Robin one shot part 3!

Please be something manageable

So I'm following this person on Instagram who uses R Patts Batman and gives him a Robin and I find that this is probably the cutest combo of emo dad and clowncore son so imagine that whilst reading this 

also the person on Instagram is called @allineedisonedream and this idea is aided by @femalepeterparker on tik tok

Bruce decidedly didn't like this. Dick, his ward and usual livewire personified, hadn't left his room in a good while. He didn't come down for breakfast. He didn't come down for his morning training. At first, Bruce assumed that he'd gone too hard on patrol and was feeling sore so he'd been sleeping in. The darker part of his mind said that he was hiding an injury that was currently brewing an infection of the century. Instead of checking on him properly, Bruce decided to just keep an ear out whenever he passed Dick's room. He heard music which at first he'd seen as a good sign until he realised it wasn't the regular music Dick played. It was from his sad playlist, although it was named something much sillier in typical Dick Grayson fashion. That almost made him knock on the door and ask if things were okay but that thought alone was all too intimidating so he decided to simply give some space. So he was listening to Kate Bush? Everyone listened to Kate Bush! At least, that's what Gordon said when he mentioned the behaviour offhandedly. The only time he really needed to worry was if he heard a Mitski song or any of the following: lights are on, softcore and/or freaks. Those were cries for help according to Gordon who had been educated by his daughter but Kate Bush was appreciating classic eighties music so he didn't find the need to go in and check. 

When it got to around midday and there was still no sign of his ward, Bruce realised that he couldn't keep giving the kid space. Dick hardly slept in, instead deciding naps were somehow better than a full night's sleep and dropping out of nowhere to sleep in the most unsafe of places. The most notable of those places was somehow on top of the giant penny which Bruce was still trying to figure out the logistics of.  If the kid wasn't sleeping then what was he doing? Crying probably given that by the time Bruce had worked up the courage, the sad songs were still playing just as loudly as before. The older thought to himself as he rested his hand on the door. Maybe he should've brought some food up as well considering he hadn't been down for breakfast nor left his room. He wished Alfred could give him a hand but he was pushing for the billionaire to take on parenting challenges rather than handing them over once it wasn't all fun and games. He let out a breath, chewing his bottom lip with anxiety. What would he have wanted when he was Dick's age and so upset he couldn't leave his room? His first instinct was to say to leave him alone but that wasn't what he wanted. It was part of how he was feeling. What did he want? What did he wish would happen as he sat there unable to move? For someone to come in and help him, talk to him for a little bit even if he didn't do enough talking to uphold a conversation. Dick was such a sociable bubbly kid who craved hugs and affection so it wouldn't be silly to assume he'd also want that. That intimidated him. He wasn't a conversationalist and physical affection was terrifying. Part of him didn't even want to go inside if he made a mess. "Get a hold of yourself," he muttered to himself. Dick needed him right now and he was Batman! Batman! He could do anything including finding out what had caused his ray of sunshine ward to draw in on himself and figure out a way to fix it. He pushed down on the handle and opened the door.

Inside the room, Dick was on his bed staring up at the ceiling. It was clear he had prepared to leave his room at some point that day because his pyjamas were folded at the bottom of the bed and from what wasn't underneath the sheets, Bruce could tell he was wearing his clothes today. It was a bright colourful graphic t-shirt that always clashed with the billionaire's own minimal dark style. So there had been an intention to leave the room but from the time it took to wake up and then get dressed, something had happened that made him go back to bed. His phone lay on the bedside cabinet, playing music. There wasn't anything around the boy to signal that he'd been doing anything other than sitting there staring at the ceiling. When the door opened, Dick's eyes slowly moved from where they bore a hole in the paint to where Bruce was standing awkwardly. He watched silently, not greeting him in any way. "Hi," Bruce greeted as the room remained quiet aside from the music. Dick didn't return his greeting. Thinking maybe he'd sort of zoned out from listening to the music, the billionaire walked over to his phone and put the music on pause. When that didn't elicit a reaction, he sat on the bed and faced him. He wasn't sitting too close to Dick but he was close enough that if the kid needed a hug he could make the first move. So they sat there. In silence. Turning off the music was decidedly not the right move to gain a reaction because he was still being stared at. "C'mon, you know I'm bad at conversations," Bruce prompted. He was feeling how painfully important it was for someone else to do the communicating when he spoke with others as he once again wasn't met with a reaction. "Dick?" he called. The boy blinked, confirming he hadn't just died after rolling his head towards the door. "Would you like something to eat? You missed breakfast." Dick continued to stare. He thought for a moment, wracking his brain for something that always made the younger happy.  "We could go out for ice cream?"