Dick Grayson one shots

How far will you go

Not me ending this with Bruce telling a bold faced lie... that's okay though. Here's mini Grayson for you

"Master Bruce, I do believe your presence is required at master Dick's school," Alfred spoke calmly through the phone.

Bruce sighed through his nose. "If it was those bullies again Alfred, I swear I'll move my funding and my child to another school," he mumbled, tugging his coat on and reaching for his keys.

"I've been told master Dick attempted to flip off of the play set," Alfred replied.

"Is he okay?" Bruce asked, his steps growing faster as he nearly ran down the stairs to his car.

"He will need a trip to the ER, but he prefers to take it with you rather than ride in an ambulance," Alfred said.

"I'll be there soon," Bruce said, ending the call as he hopped in his car.

—

Dick was curled up on a chair in his school's front office when Bruce got there. Tears traced their tracks down his scraped cheeks. His head was wrapped tightly with gauze, a spot of blood leaking through just below his hairline.

It was his wrist that looked to be the bigger problem however. It was mangled, hanging at the wrong angle even as it was wrapped in crimson tinged gauze.

Bruce knelt in front of the acrobat, holding his arms out to gently wrap him in a hug.

Dick's shoulders shook with his sobs as he clung to Bruce with his good arm.

"Shhh, I'm here now. It'll all be alright," Bruce reassured.

"Mr. Wayne," one of the secretaries greeted. "If you could sign these release forms really quickly we can get Richard checked out for the day."

Bruce balanced Dick on one hip, signing the forms with one hand.

"Oh..." the secretary said suddenly. "Your suit..."

Bruce looked down at the blue suit now smeared with blood, snot, and tears. "He's more important than a suit coat," he said, cradling Dick to his chest as he walked out of the building.

Dick whimpered when Bruce shifted him in his arms again so he could get him settled in the car.

Bruce climbed in himself and selected some music he knew Dick liked. Hopefully that would distract him a bit until he could get some pain relief. "Why didn't you let them take you in the ambulance bud?" He asked, knowing by the way the injuries looked that the younger needed immediate care.

"I-I wanted y-you," Dick mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

Bruce hummed in response. He wanted to ask what his son had been thinking doing a flip off of something like that... he'd leave that conversation until Dick had some pain medication in his system.

Unsurprisingly, Alfred was waiting for them just outside the ER doors.

Bruce flicked on his car's hazard lights and slowed to a stop in front of the butler.

Alfred opened the passenger door and unbuckled Dick's seat, grateful the younger was still small enough that he could carry him if needed.

Dick whined, pressing himself as close to Bruce as he could with the middle consul in the way. "D-don't take me a-a-away," he cried, tears once again rushing down his cheeks.

"Master Bruce, it would seem I would be better suited parking the car," Alfred said, giving Bruce a look.

"Right," Bruce said after a moment, putting the car in park and hopping out. He moved to the passenger side, surprised when Dick reached for him not unlike a young child might.

Bruce held his son tightly, carrying him into the ER.

—

Among the perks of being a billionaire was the lack of waiting time in the ER. Bruce had been funding it for years for that very reason.

Dick ended up needing a corrective surgery on his Right arm for a broken wrist and ulna as well as some surgical glue to close the cut on his forehead.

He fell asleep in the car on the way home, the casted arm cradled close to his chest, his good arm reaching over to grasp Bruce's hand.

Bruce sat in the car for a few moments after pulling into the garage back at the manor. He looked down at his son with a sigh. "What am I going to do with you?" He mumbled, gently untwining Dick's hand from his and stepping out of the car.

He carried the acrobat up to his room and tucked him gently into bed, smoothing the unruly curls off of his forehead and placing a kiss on his brow.

Dick shifted. "-ove you Bruce," he mumbled, his eyes flicking open for just a second.

"Love you too Dickie," Bruce replied easily.

—

"Dick," Bruce started when they were both sitting at the dining room table for dinner later that night. "You never told me what happened to your arm," he said, going for a nonthreatening approach.

Dick was silent for a moment, a nervous flush coloring his cheeks. "I... I tried a flip on the playground, but I over rotated and landed on my arm," he replied carefully.

Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly. "Dick. You don't have to put on a show to impress those snotty kids in your class," he said.

Dick scowled. "I wasn't doing it to impress people," he mumbled.

"It doesn't really matter why you did it, it was reckless and you ended up getting hurt," Bruce replied sharply.

"I get hurt all the time." Dick countered, raising his voice slightly.

"Getting hurt as Robin is different Dick," Bruce tried to explain.

"No it's not," Dick countered. "People notice just the same."

"No," Bruce replied, raising his voice more than he'd intended. "This injury could've been prevented. You know you're not supposed to use Robin's training when you're not on patrol. Do you realize how much worse this could've been? You could've landed on your head, could've broken your neck."

"Don't you think I know that?!" Dick shouted, tears welling in his eyes. "I watched my parents fall in the same way and they never got the chance to get lectured about it. I did it to protect you! My teachers all think you're beating me because of all the bruises I come home with despite Robin's training." He took a shaky breath. "My parents taught me that flip... a-and... and I thought if I could just prove to my teachers that I'm clumsy or reckless enough to get all those injuries on my own... then maybe... maybe they wouldn't try to take me away from you... I... I can't lose another father."

Bruce could only sit in silence for a long moment before he pulled his son into his arms. "You don't ever have to worry about protecting me like that bud," he said quietly, rubbing circles on Dick's back. "You won't have to worry about losing me any time soon."

Dick let out a shaky sob. "Promise?" He asked.

"Promise," Bruce replied.