Dick Grayson one shots

Rules

DickieGotMeOnHereBO1 jokingly(?) asked for this over a year ago, so here we are today

Living and dealing with a family of vigilantes was difficult at the best of times and nearly impossible at others. Being the most sensible of the lot Alfred often had to find ways to keep order. And so his list of unwritten but strictly followed rules were born.

Rule 1. No capes, suits, or weapons in the manor

Dick was exhausted.

He was sure if he allowed his eyes to slip shut he'd be fast asleep before he knew it. That, however, couldn't happen. He still had a report to wright, so he couldn't be dozing off. He had to prove to Bruce that he could handle his new longer patrols or they'd be taken away just as quickly as they'd came.

Bruce came to a halt in the cave, the sudden stop nearly sending Dick slamming into the dashboard.

Dick took a deep breath, blinking his eyes a couple of times before clicking the button that would release his seatbelt.

"You did good tonight Robin," Bruce said, giving him the small smile he was becoming accustomed to.

Dick grinned back. "You really think so?" He asked, his fatigue lifting for a moment.

Bruce nodded, the smile still on his face.

Dick wrapped his mentor in a quick hug. "I'll do a good job on the report too!" He said, hopping out of the car and nearly running over to the computer.

Bruce chuckled, settling down to write his own reports.

— a few hours later —

"I'm heading upstairs chum," Bruce said, ruffling Dick's unruly hair. "Don't forget to change and wash off before you come up to bed."

Dick hummed, frowning at how much longer it was taking him to write up his report. His grasp of the English language had improved considerably since he started living with Bruce... but it was nowhere near where it needed to be to speed through reports like Bruce did.

He found his eyes drifting closed for seconds at a time as he neared the end of his report.

His mind wandered, thoughts running through his head and turning into micro dreams...

He snapped his head up as it dropped, blinking rapidly and shaking his head. A trail of random letters followed his completed report. He quickly deleted them, rubbing at his face as he dragged himself over to the elevator.

Elevator music.

That's what this was missing, Dick's sleep fogged mind came up with.

He resolved to bring it up to Bruce later.

Making his way to his room, Dick collapsed into the unbelievable softness of his bed, stretching across the fluffy white sheets before curling up with his head on his pillow.

—

Shaking. Someone was shaking him, frantically calling his name while fingers pressed against his neck.

Dick startled away, breath coming in panicked gasps as he scooted himself into a corner and huddled there, lip trembling as tears threatened to fall.

Bruce fell to his knees by the bed, taking deep relieved breaths. "It was just your suit, thank goodness..." he mumbled, resting his head in his hands.

Dick sniffed, letting out a quiet whimper.

Bruce looked up, holding his arms out for the boy in the offering of a hug.