Chapter Text
Bruce didn’t know what he’d been expecting when his oldest son came back from the country.
“Hey Bruce!!!” Dick passed with a shoulder-pat. “Miss me much? Oh, great, waffles.”
This… wasn’t it.
Shoving his emotions back into a box, Bruce joined his son in the kitchen, watching carefully. Ready to apologize or accept a halfhearted hug, he’d missed several details, initially. First of all, Dick never touched him like that, if at all. It was always a hand on the arm. A shoulder-nudge. A hug of some kind. Never a “pity pat”. Secondly, his gait was… wrong. Dick looked happy enough as he exchanged news with Alfred and slung his bag over a chair and sat down to bicker over waffles with Stephanie. His steps did not match up. Dick walked with a bit of weight in his movements; a hint of lag that Bruce would normally associate with exhaustion. Weariness. Defeat.
Bruce placed his hand on the doorway, opening his mouth to speak. He was stopped by the flash of angry green eyes. Jason walked into the room, pulled Dick into a rough hug, and glared at Bruce behind Dick’s back in a silent warning.
Bruce took a second to memorize the novelty of Jason giving hugs before he ventured to speak. “Chum.”
Dick pulled away from Jason’s hug to glance over, wariness in his sharp blue eyes.
Bruce dipped his chin, unsure. “I’m glad you’re back. You were missed.”
Surprise registered on Dick’s face before being replaced with hesitant hope. He glanced at Jason, sharing a vulnerable look that Bruce couldn’t even begin to decipher, and muttered, “Good… Good to be back.”
************
Dick stared at Damian as the boy pulled on his cape, confused. “Where are you going?”
“Tt. Patrol. Idiot. Where else would I go?” Damian slid behind him on the bike, arms tightening around his middle. “Honestly.”
Dick’s heart warmed. “I missed you, too.”
Damian’s arms squeezed tighter.
************
Dick blinked groggily at the foot of his bed. “Cass.”
The girl cocked her head, otherwise frozen in the crouch she’d probably held for hours. Her dark hair glowed a little in the early-morning light. “Brother.”
Dick glanced around for a moment, bemused, then back at Cass again with a squint. “Are you babysitting me?”
“Baby,” Cass agreed cheerfully. “Sleep.”
Dick rolled over, sighing into his pillow. A strong emotion curled in his chest. It felt good. “Close the curtain, will you?”
The room darkened a second later, and Dick, knowing no one would wake him with Cass nearby, slept.
************
Dick cursed softly as one of Two-Face’s goons landed a painful punch to his shoulder. He flipped away to get his bearings, but he was trapped, and he’d lost his grapple. Of course this stakeout had to head south.
“Wing?” Hood’s voice grunted.
Nightwing ducked a few more punches, breathless, and lashed out with his crackling escrima. “Hood?”
“What’s your status?”
“Help,” was all Nightwing managed, taking a nasty blow to the ribcage. Dammit. Why were there so many of them?
“I’m on the way,” Hood bit out.
“ETA two minutes,” Red Robin put in.
Dick lasted as long as he could, throwing a punch at every opening. When two thumps sounded behind him, he sagged in relief, pressing his back to Red Robin’s for support & spinning around to give Hood the room to shoot.
They came.
************
Dick woke up on his sixth night back in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe. It was fine. It was just a dream. It was fine.
His body moved of its own accord, slipping from his bed, padding down the hall, and peeking into Tim’s room.
See? There he was, safe. Sleeping. Not dead or mad or lost. Sleeping.
Dick slowly entered, closing the door behind him, and crawled onto the bed. He did his best to stay silent, but when he carefully wrapped himself around the warm bundle of his brother, a choked sob filled his chest.
The bundle shifted, twisting sleepily. “Dick?”
“Sorry,” Dick whispered softly. He moved a hand to Tim’s wrist, swallowing as he pressed the pulse-point there. “Can… can I stay?”
Tim rolled over, tucking himself into Dick’s arms with a sigh. “Course… w’re brothers.”
Dick hugged Tim close, his throat thick. The younger man sounded so tired, and not because he’d just woken up. He was weary. Worn.
“I’m sorry,” Dick managed to whisper.
Tim wrapped an arm around his back, sliding his hand through the hair at Dick’s neck. “I know.”
“Tim… I never…”
“Dick,” Tim puffed softly, breaths proof of life against his collarbone. “I know. I forgive you. Go back to sleep.”
Dick shoved his nose into his little brother’s hair, closing his eyes. It wasn’t okay; not by a long shot. But Tim was cuddled in his arms and gentle fingers stroked through his hair and soft breaths evened out against his chest. And it was good, he decided.
Not nearly perfect… but safe.
************
“Dick.”
Nightwing flailed his arms, startled, and was yanked away from the edge of the building before he could fall.
“Idiot,” Hood hissed irritably, setting him on his feet. “You can’t even stay balanced. Why are you on patrol?”
“I’m…” Nightwing blinked rapidly. “What?”
Hood stepped back, one hand on Nightwing’s shoulder to steady him. “Why are you… You’ve been awake for like three days straight. What are you working on that you can’t ask for help?”
Nightwing felt himself still. “I didn’t think…”
“That was obvious.” Hood grasped both shoulders now, gently shaking him. “You’re overworking yourself, you dumbass. Haven’t you learned your lesson?”
Nightwing blinked again as his vision spun, then stumbled as Hood yanked him towards the edge of the roof. “How did you know… What’re you doing?”
“I knew cause Oracle is keeping an eye on your sleeping patterns for us, and I’m taking you home. Bludhaven can survive a night without you.”
“I don’t…”
“You’re gonna shower, eat, and sleep, and then you’re going to tell me what you’re working on so I can help.”
Nightwing swallowed thickly, refusing to betray the emotion swelling in his chest. “S… sounds good.”
************
It didn’t take long for Dick to realize that his family was making a real effort to ease the constant weight on his shoulders. That was natural, of course… He’d been out of contact for a while, and now that he was back to working regular stints in Gotham, it tracked that they’d be acting this way.
The strange thing was… It didn’t wear off. Three weeks passed with passing shoulder-pats, invitations to movie-nights, and incoming backup at the smallest hint that he needed help. Dick sometimes woke up to find progress on one of his cases or folded laundry on his couch. When he was at the manor, he was almost always tailed by a sibling or two for no reason at all.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured quietly, shifting. He’d just been dragged away from his work at the Bat-Computer by Tim, who had plopped him down into one of the beanbags & fallen asleep right on top of him. Dick was effectively trapped.
Bruce glanced up from the gear he was cleaning at one of the tables, his expression soft. “What?”
“This.” Dick gestured vaguely, avoiding his father’s gaze. “Them. You.”
Bruce grunted quietly. “We’ve… taken you for granted. We didn’t think about it until Jason came in to yell at us for half an hour, which---”
Dick glanced up, surprised. “He yelled at you? About ME?”
“For half an hour,” Bruce reminded him, sighing. “But he shouldn’t have had to.”
Dick wasn’t sure what to say to that. He dared to meet Bruce’s eyes. No stoic disappointment or worry or frustration stared back. Bruce just looked… sad.
“I’m sorry, Dick,” the man murmured, carefully choosing each & every word. “This is a hard life. No one should lead it alone.”
Dick ducked his eyes again, carding his fingers through Tim’s hair to keep from crying. “Me burning out wasn’t your fault.”
“It was, in a way.” Bruce took a deep breath, gentling his tone. “You are an amazing young man, Dick. You can do almost anything I can, and many things I can’t. But I am older. I have more life-experience. Adult or not, I am your father. I… should have realized… that’s all.”
Dick dropped his head back into the beanbag, his thick throat preventing anything more than a whisper. “Thanks.”
“Aw, hell,” Jason’s voice grumped. “You made him cry, Bruce? I leave for a day---”
“I was apologizing,” Bruce rumbled uncomfortably.
“He was,” Dick confirmed in a croak.
Jason heaved a long-suffering sigh, and then he was at Dick’s side, brushing a rough but well-meaning hand through his hair. “I see you’ve been trapped.”
Dick closed his tear-filled eyes, sniffing. “He wouldn’t let me keep working.”
“Hypocrite. Looks like both of you need some rest. Learn what a healthy sleep-schedule is, huh?”
Dick hummed in agreement, soothed.
The hand paused in his hair. Then, gruff but quiet, “We’re here now, Dick. We’re trying. Don’t do this to yourself again.”
Dick took a deep breath, moving his free hand up to grasp Jason’s wrist. The pulse was reassuring under his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… physically comfortable… here. His siblings were letting him touch them; they were listening to his advice & accepting his help.
They were setting an example for him to join.
“Jay,” he whispered sleepily. “I love you guys, too.”