metalogs | ( open ) and what's the worst you take

The crouching down makes sense — getting down on their level and all. It's funny to think he can pick up on these things while simultaneously not at the same time. Being this age again yet knowing what he does... it's a little difficult for him, just as it is for Dick, he's sure.

Which... Dick goes and says that to him— something he hasn't yet experienced or been through, and it has him thinking of someone else who did that to him when his life fell apart. When he lost everything important to him.

"Like Alfred did." The words are soft and there's a sadness there in his eyes that he can't seem to hide, letting his gaze drop. "I don't make things better. I make them worse. For everyone around me. Even for all of you." Which is why he's been keeping his distance since coming here. Busying himself. Doing whatever he can to just not let himself do this again.

Not be hurt again because of how powerless he ends up being.

"Like Alfred did." He can't always keep his own sadness out of his voice or eyes when the name comes up, but he manages right now. Because Bruce needs that. "Not just for you, but for all of us as well.

"But you will make things better, Bruce. Even Jason admits, usually, that there wasn't anything our Bruce could have done to stop him ending up where he did, couldn't have stopped what happened." No, the problem there was the Joker's continued existence. Something that Dick...sometimes even agreed with Jason on, honestly. "I know it doesn't look like it from where you're at. But you're going to do so much good for Gotham."

He reaches out, taking Bruce's shoulders. Wonders if Bruce had ever wondered if shoulders so small could handle the burdens that would be heaped upon them. If he'd wondered the same things Dick wonders now. "You being here. It's awkward, but it's not making anything worse for any of us." He raises a hand and waves it before Bruce can protest. "Jason might say that, but Jason is an asshole. That's not our Bruce's fault." Entirely. "That's the way he is. We kinda like him like that, even when it makes us want to punch him."

It's a good thing that Dick clarifies the point about Jason there because Bruce was a half a second away from rolling his eyes and puffing out a yeah right. But no, Jason's not as bad he maybe makes himself out to be. Bruce has experienced that firsthand here. The way he's patched him up, come to his aid, told him things that maybe had been difficult for him to. He's a bit of a punk, he's not going to try and say he isn't, but. There's more to him than that... just as there's more to Batman than Batman.

But maybe that's good to hear — that he's not making things worse for them by being here. It's not as if he had a say in it after all and this past month that he's been here has been... hard. Really hard for him. Especially with a Joker being here and everything that's going on back in his Gotham... things that still make him worry with the not knowing and being completely powerless to do anything while being here.

"I'm scared to go back," and the way he says that is so soft and so young, like the ten year old he is right now. "Alfred's badly hurt and in the hospital because of me and if I go back and lose him... then I don't have anyone."

This time, Dick doesn't fight the urge to pull Bruce in for a hug. He's an adult, sure, but he's ten years old and having all those memories doesn't make being this young easy. And especially not when he's dealing with those thoughts.

"Alfred is tougher than all of us combined," he says fiercely. And he believes it. Alfred had signalled Bruce that he was safe, knowing that any member of the family coming in would mean his death. And he did it because it had to be done. "And if he went out protecting you, he'd consider it his duty well done, but he won't. Not for a long time. Because he knows you're going to need him for years to come and that's why he's going to fight to make sure he's there. And he always will."

And if Dick is using that hug to hide teary eyes? Well, nobody could blame him.

He's pulled into that hug and he just stands there. Quiet. The thought of losing Alfred back in Gotham because he hadn't been the one to receive that envelope from the Riddler... he doesn't know what he's going to do if that happens. If Alfred doesn't pull through. There's no next of kin. There's just him... just him and Alfred, like it's been for a number of years now.

But Dick's words are a sort of comfort he didn't know he needed to hear and it's why, fighting his own pain there in his eyes, he gently lifts his arms up and presses small hands to Dick's shoulders, holding tight after a few seconds. A tilt of his head, he leans into Dick and he... doesn't realize how much he needs this right now. Just a moment to feel safe — to stop. To pretend, even for a few seconds, that everything is going to be ok.

It's one reason why Bruce needs more people. Why he needs Gordon and the others that will come into his life. Because if it had just been the two of them when Alfred died, Bruce would have broken. It's not that he didn't, really, but there were others to help take up the load when it got to be too much. Who are also reminders of all the things that Alfred helped to get right.

Bruce hugs back and Dick lets himself breathe a sigh of relief. One that lets him get his own emotions back under control. "It'll be okay. It's Alfred. He always comes through."

He really hopes Dick is right.

After a moment — once he's sure he's collected himself, he pulls back from the embrace and lets his arms fall at his sides again. It's been awhile for that — a hug. Still, there's no point in standing around and getting sad about the what ifs — he tortures himself enough as it is when he's an adult. Right now, he needs to try and figure this out and...

...there goes his stomach. Rumbling away.

Dick doesn't hold on to the hug longer than Bruce is okay with. Maybe they both need it, but he knows that Bruce will only take it for so long.

He's able to blink his eyes a few times, keep them from looking too glassy when Bruce pulls away. Dick crouches there, trying to think of something to say when...Bruce's stomach comes to the rescue.

Breathing out an almost relieved chuckle, Dick pushes himself back to his feet. "I guess that means we add a trip to the closest diner before we head back to Central? Clothes first, though." Because Bruce can't go into a restaurant with clothes that much bigger on him. "Come on. I've got an extra helmet for when I drive with Tim. It'll work for long enough to get you clothed, fed and then home."

Food would be... nice, yeah.

"I can borrow something from Tim or Dick," he says then, in regards to the whole having to get new clothing thing. "The smaller Dick, I mean." Though he figured Dick understood that since, obviously, he's very much not the same size as him right now.

Bruce borrowing Dick's clothes as his normal size would work better with this one than it would have back home. "Not going to help with eating right now. And you might need jeans, at least, because I think both of them are longer in the leg than you are right now." They hadn't hit their growth spurts yet, but still. "Let me just get a couple of things for you, all right?"

He should have known Dick would be a little stubborn there, but. Bruce can be just as stubborn and it shows in the way he stares to him before he lets his gaze drift off. Considering.

"I'll pay you back," voice soft but words firm. "When this is all... figured out." When he's not small like this anymore, which— who knows how long it's going to be. For the moment, however, he needs to eat something that will actually get his stomach to stop grumbling.

Bruce hasn't been around the younger Dick Grayson for long enough to realize that this is just how he is. He's always been stubborn.

His own gaze softens a bit once Bruce relents and he nods. "Of course. I will absolutely make sure you remember to do that." Bruce will remember on his own, of course, but Dick still grins quickly at him. "Come on. Let's get clothes and food." And if the clothing weren't a danger on the bike, Dick would just hit a drive-thru.

Giving another glance around the place he's been working on, he looks back to Dick and gives a slight nod before he goes about following after him, making sure to grab his phone and a couple things on the way.

"You have a bike?" Since he'd mentioned having a helmet and all.

"Motorcycle, yeah. It's not as good as the one I have back home, but I wasn't riding it when I arrived." Dick zips his jacket up again, reaching for his own helmet. "It's easier to keep in the city than a car would be. Though it makes grocery shopping a pain."

"No Nightwingmobile for you?" It's said with a slightly arched brow, clearly teasing, if even somewhat dryly. "We could take mine, but I don't know how we'd bring your bike with us." Take the Batmobile, he means.

Dick pauses, considering that for a moment. It would be easier for Bruce, especially the way he's dressed. "I can always get a taxi back here in a day or so, if you don't mind me leaving the bike inside. Or wherever the garage is."

"You can leave it inside. It's still a little... under construction." And the entrance has more than enough room for storing a bike off to the side.

That being said, Bruce just goes ahead and walks past Dick — pushes the door open to lead them outside and blinks his eyes a little as he does; he wishes he had some sunglasses on him. Looking back to Dick, eyes squinting some, he gestures for him to bring the bike in, offering to hold the door open for him as he does.

Dick notes that squint, which is kind of adorable. And something they all do because they work at night.

He brings the bike in quickly, moving it off to the side so that it's not in the way of people coming in. He also puts his helmet in the lock box, along with the smaller one. Just to keep everything safe.

Then he heads back out, waiting for Bruce to lock the door. "Where's the car?"

Taking a moment to lock up, he heads around the side of the dorm, expecting Dick to follow him, dirt and debris crunching beneath his shoes as he goes. It's a little ways around the place — not exactly at the back, but more off to the side where a smaller wing of the building is. It's damaged a lot worse than the rest of the place and obviously the part of the dorm that's going to need the most work on, but. They can step inside at least, granted Dick's mindful of the debris still around here.

At first glance, it seems as though Bruce has taken Dick to an empty part of the building, but. As he walks in closer towards the shadows, they suddenly move and fall away, revealing the Batmobile in hiding there and yes, it's very year two just as his suit is, but. It's heavily modded, packs quite the punch, and has quite the engine power on it.

Walking around to the driver's side, he opens the door and slips into the seat, turning on a few things as he does.

Well. That's...not what Dick was expecting. He raises an eyebrow as the shadows part, walking forward carefully.

"Take it that's what you got when you came through the Confluence?" It's such a Bruce power to have, though.

He resolutely doesn't gawk at the car. Because while he hasn't seen this exact car, he's seen pictures of a similar one. One Bruce used not long before Dick himself came on the scene. "Can your feet even reach those pedals?"

"It knows when it's me," he says rather nonchalantly, scooting forward some in the seat and taking a look at things. "I don't know how else to explain it. But it's from here, yeah." Because the Batmobile definitely can't do any of that back in his Gotham. There's a certain sort of... connection between the shadows the Batmobile hides in and the shadows Bruce can seemingly manipulate. The Batmobile isn't Kitt by any means, but. It's not as if Bruce is constantly keeping the shadows on either, so. He's still figuring the whole having powers thing suddenly out anyways.

Clicking a few more things, he looks over to Dick. "No," said flatly. "I was just making sure we're good to go." At that, he crawls his way over the seats and for the passenger one, dropping himself down into it with a slight huff, eyeing Dick a little after.

"You know how to drive it?"

Edited 2023-08-02 23:05 (UTC)

"I haven't driven this one, but I've driven a Batmobile before." Not going to mention the last times, he'd been Batman himself. No need to let Bruce know that THAT passes on as well. At least, sometimes.

He climbs in, adjusting the seat slightly before starting the engine. The hum of the engine is different than he's used to, but there's nothing wrong with that. He puts it into gear and drives out of the garage area. "You're the local. Where's the nearest shop that would have what we need?"

Settling back in his seat, he looks out the passenger window as they start to move, looking and feeling so small there in the Batmobile.

"The city center typically, but you can't just go driving this around there." And not be Batman, he means. He's still keeping a relatively low profile here in terms of what he does and where he is. Bruce Wayne might not mean anything here and there may be a handful who know who he really is, but he's not looking to make that public knowledge.

Looking over to Dick, he watches him. "Jason told me to ask you about a batchannel." You know, before all of this happened. "He said it was for group gossip."

"Fair. We'll park a bit away and walk." Because that's the sensible thing. "Just need to get close enough that we don't have to go too far." They can. But not until Bruce has better clothing.

He glances over to Bruce, then back to the road. "Nobody's told you about the Batchat yet?" Because that's absolutely what it's called in his phone. Though there are subsections of the Batchat. "It's basically just a massive text thread with everybody added on. We use it when something needs to get out fast, or there's something to just talk about to everybody." Pause. "Or gossip. There's a fair amount of that going on, too. TJ brought it from our world, probably. I have it silenced a lot of the time because I do like to sleep occasionally."

Staring down to his feet, it's strange to see they can't even touch the floor of the vehicle. He's just... so small. The explanation of the batchat gets him to look over, however, and he's thoughtful for a moment before he looks back ahead.

"I'm sure there was a lot of gossip about me when I showed up." Given who he is to all of them and his age compared to the Bruce they all know.

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