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

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.

There's a long pause while Dick concentrates on the road. Because it needs all his concentration. Obviously.

"Imagine Alfred shows up," he says after a moment. "But it's not the Alfred you know. It's Alfred only a year or so after he came to work for the Wayne family. Or maybe Alfred from when you were a toddler? How would you react?"

Bruce"s expression changes from thoughtful to a little somber when Dick mentions Alfred and, rather than answer, he turns some to look out the passenger window. Staring. Watching as things go by them.

After a moment, he presses his back against the seat, legs dangling some, staring up to the ceiling of the vehicle he'd worked on in private... that he was still wanting to work on.

"I'm glad you all have each other here," he says then, finally, softly. "Probably makes being here easier."

"Partly," Dick agrees, looking around and finding an alleyway that the Batmobile will fit into. This is about as close to the center of town as he wants to get with the vehicle, after all. "But I also worry a lot about everybody. I'm not sure if that's a big brother thing or if it's a me thing. But it could be both."

Pulling himself up straight some, he looks around - notices the way Dick is taking the Batmobile down an alley, then turns some in the seat to look over to him better.

"You don't have to worry about me," a beat, staring dead ahead at Dick. "When I'm not like this." Because... ok. He gets it right now. Yeah.

That gets a snort as Dick puts the car in park, giving Bruce an amused half grin. "Yeah, no. That's not how it works, Bruce. People are going to worry about you no matter what, no matter how competent you are at what you do." He shakes his head. "That's one thing I've learned over the years. You don't get to decide who worries about you or not. It's just a thing that happens because they care."

It's just a thing that happens because they care.

Those words have Bruce think back to that moment in his under construction 'Batcave' here. After twisted versions of Thomas and Martha Wayne had come for him and he'd taken Jason back there to patch up... to just get away and collect himself for a couple moments... when he'd found himself holding a sobbing Jason there against him on the stool after telling him how he wouldn't give up on him. The things he felt in that moment as he gently held him... as Jason gently broke down... he keeps that to himself - doesn't even think to bring it up to Dick, but. It makes sense, he thinks. What Dick says about it just happening and Bruce's expression shows that he understands.

With the Batmobile parked, he pops the door open and slips out the passenger side, looking at the way his makeshift shorts dangle there around his smaller legs.

"I just need a pair of pants and shirt... mostly."

Edited 2023-08-04 21:01 (UTC)

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