Dick Grayson one shots

Golden boy P2

Alzenia466 at long last the chapter you've been waiting for

Dick hadn't intended on staying at the manor, it had been made abundantly clear how tentative his place there was after all...

He'd found out that Alfred was sick through the family group chat that he'd been added to and removed from more often than was good for his personal feelings of belonging.

Bruce had encouraged Jason to come visit, but said nothing to Dick.

Though slightly hurt by the lack of invitation Dick walked down to his local grocery store to get ingredients for a Romani soup his mom used to make for him when he was sick, one of the few things he could reliably cook without needing a recipe.

He realized it was sad that he felt like he had to bring something in order to be welcome in his childhood home, but pushed the thought aside.

After arriving at the manor and passing the pot of soup off to Jason Dick was about to leave, too anxious in the moment to ask Bruce if he could visit with Alfred for a while.

Luckily Damian came to his rescue. "Pennyworth has been asking to see you," he said, grabbing Dick's arm and pulling him along toward the butler's room.

Jason met them at the stairs with a bowl of the soup Dick had made, passing it over before turning and going his own way.

Dick's hands trembled as he followed after Damian, silently hoping he wouldn't see Bruce on his way up there.

His luck, unfortunately was never that good.

Bruce sat next to Alfred's bed with a book in hand, relaxing with a slight smile on his face... a smile that vanished the moment he saw his eldest.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but eventually decided against it, instead standing and leaving the room with a nod to his two sons.

"Master Dick," Alfred greeted with a smile.

Dick returned his smile. "How are you feeling Alfie?" He asked.

"Oh it's nothing but a common cold," Alfred reassured. "I'd be up and about if your siblings didn't insist on bed rest... poetic justice I suppose."

Dick laughed, sitting down in the chair Bruce had just vacated. "I brought you some soup," he said, passing the bowl of the steaming liquid to the butler.

Alfred took a sip and let out an appreciative hum. "Quite delicious Master Dick. Thank you for thinking of me."

Dick's smile broadened, and he relaxed slightly.

—

A pang of sadness struck through Dick's heart when he checked the time. He should get going. He didn't want to overstay his welcome after all.

"I better head home Alf," he said, standing and grabbing the butler's empty bowl to take down to the kitchen.

"Nonsense," the butler countered. "It's late and you look like a long drive wouldn't do you much good."

Dick chuckled. Alfred, ever the perceptive grandfather figure. "I don't think Bruce wants me here," he replied.

Alfred looked like he was considering jumping out of bed, possibly to have a word with the billionaire.

"I'll be fine," Dick insisted.

Alfred huffed. "If you insist... though I do insist upon your visiting again once I'm well so I can repay you for that marvelous soup you brought."