Chapter Text
Dick hums happily as he enters the Batcave, skipping giddily, excited to finally see his baby bird. It's been three months since he saw Tim, having been away on a Titan's mission since. He had gotten into another argument with Bruce prior about Dick going on dangerous missions with the Titans, as if Bruce didn't do the same with the League.
Honestly, Dick doesn't know what the man's problem is. Bruce has been like this since he adopted Dick, and it seriously pisses him off.
Dick tilts his head in confusion as he sees no one at the batcomputer. He sees the lights open in medbay and lights up. He sneaks over there, wanting to scare whoever's in there.
"You're going on a mission with Young Justice," Bruce's voice states, not asks.
Dick frowns and quietly walks over, using his training to lighten his footsteps. He sees Tim lying on a medbay cot as Bruce flutters around medbay like a worried hen. In Bruce's hand was a bottle of Gatorade. Under the fluorescent lights, Dick could see from where he was standing that Tim had really bad eye bags and was really pale.
Tim's voice is raspy as he answers, "Yep, why? Got a problem?"
Bruce takes a moment to answer, his body tense, "I- I have some concerns about the mission."
Dick's brain bluescreens. When the Fuck does Batman stutter, scratch that, when does he voice his concerns like that?
3 months ago
Dick screams, "I AM A GROWN ASS MAN, DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM NOT A CHILD! WHY DON'T YOU TRUST ME?! YOU ALWAYS DO THIS!"
Bruce stares dick down, he had changed out of the bat suit and is in his undersuit. "You do not know how to take care of yourself. You broke your arm and 4 ribs last time."
Dick sneers, crossing his arms over his chest, "You're such a hypocrite, Bruce. You're no better, running off with the league whenever they call."
Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That is because I have decades more experience than you. I also have responsibilities as a founding member of the Justice League."
Dicks rolls his eyes, scoffing at the excuse, "I call bullshit, I'm only like 15 years younger than you, Bruce."
Bruce corrects automatically, "14 years."
Dick waves his hand dismissively, "Tomayto, Tomato."
Bruce rolls his eyes, cutting straight to the point, "You are irresponsible, Dick. You do not know how to take care of yourself, much less another person on your team."
Dick fumes, red clouding his vision, "That is such bullshit! I was the one who was taking care of Damian while you were getting your shit together-"
Dick can't remember the rest of the argument, but why the fuck does this remind him of that day? Oh, right, because it's essentially about the same thing except Bruce isn't being a bitch and is actually communicating with Tim.
So Bruce can actually communicate without being demeaning or trying to gaslight people, huh, and yet he refuses to do it with Dick. He sounds unsure, so it must be new.
Tim hums softly and says patiently, "What concerns do you have, B?"
Dick sees Bruce swallow before saying, "The planet you plan on gathering samples, there is not much information gathered in that galaxy. I do not think it is safe."
Tim says matter-of-factly, "Hence why my team is going to go. There won't be much information if no one goes to find that information, B."
Bruce sighs softly, sitting at Tim's bedside, "Tim, I am genuinely worried, not that I don't trust you or your team, but you guys will be going blind. What if something happens and you cannot reach anyone?"
Tim takes Bruce's hand, "Bruce, will it make you feel better if I take someone from the League?"
Bruce stares at his hand in Tim's, looking amazed that Tim would initiate contact. He then relaxes, purses his lips, tilting his head in thought before nodding, "I suppose that is better. Who will you be taking?"
Tim pauses, brows furrowing slightly before tilting his head, "Will one of the Green Lanterns be alright?"
Bruce hums thoughtfully, "Yes, but which one?"
Tim says absently, playing with Bruce's hand, "John Stewart. Hal pissed me off last week, and I don't like green gardener."
Bruce quirks an eyebrow in amusement, "Guy Gardener? And what about Kyle Rayner?"
Tim sighs dramatically, "Potayto, Potato. And I just like John better."
Bruce smiles softly, ruffling Tim's head, "Very well, Tim. Please give me more details before you leave at a later notice."
Tim nods lazily, waving him off. He lets go of Bruce's hand as Bruce stands and hands him the Gatorade bottle.
Bruce scolds, "Also, no more all-nighters. You've been awake two days already. Drink your Gatorade and go to sleep."
Tim rolls his eyes but nods.
Dick quickly climbs into a vent, metal is biting into his hands as he grips it tightly. He watches as Bruce walks out of Medbay and settles into the chair at the Batcomputer.
Dick can feel his heart beating in his throat, his heartbeat in his ears. He can't focus, his hands feel clammy, and it feels like he might vomit.
Why, Dick thinks numbly. Why didn't Bruce fight him on this?
Why would he argue with me about the titan's mission but not Tim over this?
I've known him longer; I was his partner and son longer.
He knows I can handle myself.
Haven't I proven it?
Dick feels something warm drip from his hands, but he can't focus as he thinks.
Why.
Dick stares at Bruce for what seems like hours, replaying that whole conversation dozens of times. His lip trembles and his hand shakes as he watches his little brother have the relationship he so desperately wishes for.
How long has Dick wished for Bruce to actually communicate his worries normally? For Bruce to trust Dick's abilities and team? For Bruce to just stop manipulating him when he doesn't agree.
Why is Tim different? And why does he feel so angry about that?
Shouldn't he be glad that Bruce isn't pulling that shit with his baby brother?
Great, another thing to tell his therapist, sorry, Wally.
