WHO: Dick Grayson and Tim Wayne WHAT: Breakfast WHEN: 3 February WHERE: Their apartment WARNING/STATUS: Injuries and self-patching. complete via log.
Peeling his domino from his eyes, Dick winced slightly as he caught the edge of a bruise rapidly forming on his cheekbone. It didn't feel cracked, which was good, those were just plain annoying (as well as painful). Peeling off the rest of his suit, he dumped it in the laundry basket and tiptoed through to the bathroom. It was only just past dawn so he didn't expect Tim to be up and about yet, which meant he could take a longer than usual shower and see to any cuts which needed closing. Luckily no damage had been done to his suit, otherwise he'd have to find a sewing machine from somewhere.
Fingertips snagged his old scar as he washed the sweat-salt out of his hair and he ignored the queasy flip of his stomach the unintentional touch caused. Instead he focused on cleaning the cuts scattered down the left side of his jaw and neck. None seemed too bad and when he dried off in front of the mirror the rest of him seemed okay too. A couple of steri-strips and a change into comfy sweats and hoodie later, he was in the kitchen starting the day right by making coffee and waffles.
"Morning, Tim." He called as he heard the soft tread of his little brother in the hallway.
Tim had heard Dick enter thanks to their training, it was ridiculous. Someone could drop a pin in that apartment and both boys would look over in it’s direction. He had a toothbrush in his mouth when he stuck his head into the kitchen for a moment to give a bit of a wave “Orgn” Came the slurred voice with occupied mouth. Frowning at the sight of Dick’s bruising cheek, he hurried up his routine a little to finish getting dressed as he’d only been half way dressed on the bottom part. He pulled a shirt over his head and padded his way back into the kitchen.
“I mean hi. I guess morning implies sleep happened.” He shrugged, he’d probably need those sleep meds he was taking back home again but he could worry about that later. He spent the night trying to distract himself, his arm was back in that sling so he could only really do sparring at the moment. The downside of being human was the lack of super speedy healing reflexes. While his arm wasn’t dislocated anymore it would take a little while to heal entirely. “You okay?” He asked, his eyes pinned on that bruise. “Lose a fight?”
Chuckling at the unintelligible reply, Dick finished loading their plates with waffles and berries, setting them on the island while he poured the coffee. Leaving Tim’s black, while he poured cream and sugar into his. (He needed the extra calories today, sue him.) Perching on one of the tall stools beside the counter, he sipped at his drink and smiled over at Tim when his brother joined him. “Hi, and I kind of figured you might not have slept.” Insomnia seemed to be his brother’s curse, no matter how old he was.
“Oh, this?” He gestured at his face, “It’s fine, just a bruise and a couple of scratches. Nothing I can’t handle.” Or any of the bat siblings for that matter. “I lost one round, but they cheated, throwing bottles is definitely a foul in my book.” Loading his fork, he took a bite and hummed. “The other guys look worse.”
Tim gave Dick an exasperated look. “So long as they look worse.” These would probably be conversations to worry about in any other household. But in theirs it would only be worrisome if Dick came home like that every night. Tim knew they must have played dirty to get one in on him. “What was it? Gang?” What else was around there? Tim would need to do some snooping on the local color to see what sorts of things they could get into. It’d been a while for him. He’d forgotten.
“I’ll probably have to go to medical later to get some pills.” He admitted, at least he knew there was a problem when it came to sleep and the lack thereof. Reaching for the coffee he also leaned over the counter to where the chocolate syrup lay to pour probably an unhealthy amount in along with a little milk. Their bodies were at peak condition. Whatever they ate would just burn away. Poking idly at a waffle with a fork for a minute he looked over at Dick with a little frown. “I told Peter.” He wondered if Dick remembered his thing for the spider kid. It had unfortunately just returned when he got back. In fact even one of his passwords was now Spiderman for their computer back home.
"I swear they do." Dick held his hands up in mock surrender in the wake of that look, which was eerily similar to Alfred’s. Getting a few bruises was to be expected in their line of work, but this was the first time he’d come back from his nightly trips into the city with any kind of damage. Maybe it hadn’t been the right way to channel his feelings about Barbara’s departure? He should have stayed around, checked on Daisy. "Armed robbery, gang scuffle and an ATM snatch and grab. Not all at the same time." He smiled then, because the cops had been very confused to find both would-be thieves zip-tied to lampposts just waiting to be picked up.
"It’s probably a good idea. I’m sorry if I was too gung ho about all that before you boomeranged. I was just worried, still am. Lack of sleep on top of our usual nightly activities and full time jobs has got to have some seriously detrimental effects." They lapsed into silence for a few moments, while he demolished half of his waffles, then almost choked at Tim’s next words. "Told him you have feelings for him? How did that go?"
Tim could only shake his head in fond exasperation then. Bruises weren’t too much of a cause to raise alarm for them. Others? Well they might have concerns, but who knew “Hn.” An annoying sound he’d likely picked up from Bruce as Dick explained exactly what he’d gotten into. “I didn’t think so. I mean…all at the same time would be..you’d need superman’s powers.” He gave a little smile at the comment. “You’re good, but none of us can be everywhere.” Tim knew that now. They weren’t super human or anything.
“I know. It’s fine. I wasn’t in the best spot after Conner..I didn’t have a single clue who I was beyond Robin.” It caused a lot of issues when he dove head first into things like that. Tim tended to obsess. The silence was comfortable though, Tim was fine just hanging around Dick whether he wanted to talk or not. When he choked a little Tim raised an eyebrow but then responded when he saw he was fine and took a moment to think about it. “...Messy.” Was the proper word. He shoved a bite of waffle in his mouth and chewed on it for a minute. “I still don’t have a real response.”
"You sound like B when you do that." Dick chuckled at the noise which managed to be possibly the most vexing of Bruce's mannerisms for Tim to pick up. "Can you imagine me with Superman's powers? I don't think I'd ever set my feet on the ground again." He smiled at Tim's words, glad that his little brother had finally accepted that fact for himself if he was now advising him of the same.
"I know, and I'm sorry I couldn't help more. But, figuring out who you are beyond, or after being, Robin is kind of a progression you have to make by yourself." Okay, so he might have gotten the idea for his name from Clark, but his decision to become Nightwing was his own.
"Messy and no closure, that sucks, Tim. Do you think there's anything I could do to help? Want me to talk to him?"
Tim made a face at that remark. “Guess there are worse things to sound like though.” Tim still loved Bruce, as messy as he was. He knew the man was not perfect, but he was the closest thing Tim had anymore to a father and had just found him again recently. He hadn’t been ready to let go when he suddenly found himself back in this place again-but at least he knew the man was alive. Officially. Had seen it for himself. “I’d probably have to learn how to make flight boots or something just to come see you.” He shook his head with a bit of a exasperated laugh at the thought. “..You know..flight boots might be cool.” He thought about that for a minute. Tony had the tech. Tim would have to experiment.
He held up a hand, Dick didn’t need to apologise for that. “You couldn’t have done it for me. A lot of things..happened. “ Tim wasn’t sure he even wanted to go further than that. He’d spiralled pretty heavily when arriving home.
Putting the fork down, he shook his head. “Nah..I don’t know. It seems like he likes me but..I can’t tell. He likes her too. Loves her. I don’t know. It’s a whole fucked up thing. Why do I do this?” Why did he like guys who were dead or off limits or complicated?
“Much worse, but probably better too.” Dick mused, loading another large forkful and contemplating it for a moment before stuffing it into his mouth. Their family was complicated, probably more so than most, but the love between them all was just as real as if they’d been blood relatives. Chuckling around his mouthful, he swallowed quickly and nodded, “flight boots would be really cool.”
Another nod followed the gesture by is little brother and he let out a tiny sigh. Guessing that Tim’s return to their own world had been a rough ride at first, comsidering the time he had come from. “I remember, vaguely.” He didn’t fully trust his own memories yet, not after the amnesia.
“Maybe he just needs time to figure it out. Especially seeing as he has Sabrina.” Dick nudged his shoulder to Tim’s, “we can’t control who we fall for, Tim.”