@bluewiinged
he’s at a loss--almost. never has bruce wayne been normal--not since two gunshots shattered his innocence decades ago. so, he wasn’t quite a normal kid--finds himself not quite sure how to handle a kid, even if dick impresses him enough in combat to make him forget his youthful age. they talk a lot of shop--about training, patrol. dick is his ward, and bruce is keenly aware that they both have covers to maintain.
but how, he’s not quite sure.
patrol doesn’t happen every night--tonight is one of those nights off, in which bruce plans to train dick in combat. he returns to the manor from work at six, finds dick sat at the kitchen counter. alfred’s busied himself making coffee--and the sight is so oddly domestic, familial. becoming a father hadn’t been what bruce intended to do, but it’s been months and the feeling grows stronger every day. if he believed in ghosts, he’d say his father jumps in his body every time he looks at dick.
“--how was your day?” he asks after pouring a cup of joe, sitting at the counter with the hot mug between his hands. it’s a calculated question, one he’d been mulling over for quite some time. bruce doesn’t know what to say that’s at least a little normal, and he has to think about it. even mundane conversation requires excessive calculation and thought--more than it should. he feels alfred’s eyes in the back of his head and opts to ignore it.
