Dick Grayson one shots

Missing you P1

Bruce rarely ever got kidnapped, not surprising, considering that he was THE Batman. In fact, it was rare that people would target the billionaire when they could easily get anything they wanted from him by kidnapping one of his children.

That's why it was a surprise when Bruce went missing, especially as time when on. At first, everyone assumed he'd been kidnapped, but months passed and a ransom note was never received. This turned people's thoughts towards something much more sinister.

Eventually, all the search parties were disbanded and thoughts of Bruce Wayne drifted towards the back of everyone's minds.

There was one person however, who never gave up the search. Dick Grayson.

When Bruce had first gone missing, Dick had returned to Gotham, wanting to be there to take care of his brothers until Bruce was found. After a few weeks of finding nothing, Dick had requested that the police department in Blüdhaven transfer him to Gotham so he could continue working.

Dick barely ate or slept, spending every moment of his free time looking for Bruce, that is, until they found the body....

The Gotham police were patrolling the harbor area of the city, a place made up mostly of dilapidated old warehouses that often housed some of the less honorable citizens of Gotham.

The police force went through them once in a while to look for and remove any drug dealers, supervillains, human traffickers, and any other shady people.

Dick was the one who found the body. He walked into a warehouse alone, not seeing anything that looked too suspicious right off the bat. It was almost the end of the night shift, and he was eager to go back to the manor and continue his search for Bruce.

He started walking a slow loop of the room, shining the beam of his flashlight around and checking for anything unusual.

The smell was what hit him first, enough to make him gag.

Dick pointed the flashlight toward the far corner of the building, eyes widening when his flashlight illuminated the shriveled decomposing body. The blue eyes were open wide, and the matted black hair was falling off in patches. Flies buzzed around the body, and there were maggots crawling through and under the skin.

'Bruce...' was all Dick could think as he stared at the rotting figure in the corner. It had his black hair, icy blue eyes, and looked to be about Bruce's build.

Dick fell to his knees and vomited to the side. He knelt there on the floor for the better part of an hour. His eyes staring, but not seeing a thing.

Commissioner Gordon's hand was gently placed on Dick's shoulder, which caused him to flinch violently.

An officer walked closer to the body, examining it and taking some blood and tissue samples.

"Hey commish... could this be Bruce Wayne?" The officer asked, not caring enough to be sensitive to Dick's feelings on the subject.

Gordon walked up to the body, examining the hair, eyes, teeth, and what was left of the rest of the body.

"I think it is." Gordon whispered sadly.

Dick started sobbing when he heard this, sinking the rest of the way to the floor.

Commissioner Gordon tried to comfort Dick, holding him in a tight embrace for a while before insisting they all head back to the station. He helped Dick to his feet, noticing how Dick was shaking, whether from the Gotham cold or what he'd seen in the warehouse he didn't know.

Dick leaned heavily on the commissioner on the way out of the warehouse. A team had been called in to take care of the body, and Dick fell to his knees and puked again when he saw the white body bag being carried away.

Gordon drove Dick back to the manor, telling him he could have as much time off as he needed. Dick only nodded in response, eyes looking dead, all the happiness and joy having been drained out.

Dick stumbled into the manor and Alfred helped him to the couch where he fretted over the young adult, wrapping him in blankets and taking his temperature periodically.

Alfred offered Dick food and water, but he refused both, sitting on the couch feeling numb.

—

The body that had been found was confirmed to have the same blood type as Bruce, in addition to the similar features.

Bruce's funeral was held on a sunny day. Dick glared up at the sky, wondering how everything could be so bright when his entire world had crumbled to the ground.

The loss of Bruce was hard on all of the bat boys, but it hit Dick the hardest. Sure, he wasn't the 'blood son', but he had spent the most time with Bruce. Besides, the younger brothers had Dick to take care of them.

Dick didn't have anyone. Each day brought him deeper and deeper into his state of depression. He refused to eat and only drank what was forced into him by Alfred.

Alfred threatened to put Dick on a feeding tube, but he couldn't seem to get Dick to care.

Dick got weaker and weaker day by day. Eventually Jason took over the role of Batman because Dick had become too weak to even go out on patrol.

Nobody knew what to do with the acrobat. They understood he was grieving, but it seemed an awful lot like he'd simply given up on living, and they had no idea how to help him...

—

Dick was sitting on the couch. The others had left for patrol a few hours earlier and he hadn't had the energy to walk up to his bed. His eyes drifted closed and he didn't have the will to try and keep them open.

A few minutes later Dick's eyes fluttered open when he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. He did his best to sit up on the couch, but he eventually fell back, not having the energy to care who was coming through the front door.

Bruce walked into the manor and wasn't surprised to find that practically nobody was there. 'It is patrol time after all.' He thought to himself. He walked through the manor, looking for a sign of Alfred.

When Bruce reached the living room he saw a mop of curly black hair sticking up above the back of the couch. There was only one of his sons whom it could belong to. He walked around the couch, his breath catching when he saw the appearance of his eldest son.

Bruce knelt down in front of the couch, grasping Dick's hand in his own. "Dickie? Bud, what happened to you?"

Dick's eyes fluttered open and he looked down. The rattling sound of his breathing stopped completely when he saw Bruce's face.

Bruce was covered in grime and cuts, with a bushy beard beginning to grow on his chin.

Dick on the other hand, looked almost like a living skeleton. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were sunken. Bruce could tell his son hadn't been eating or sleeping well.

"B-Bruce?" Dick gasped, struggling to sit forward.

"It's me bud." Bruce reassured, wrapping Dick in a gentle hug.

Dick melted into the hug, sobbing into Bruce's shoulder. "B-but you were d-dead. I f-found a body." Dick managed to get out between sobs.

Bruce rubbed small circles on Dick's back. "That wasn't me Dickie... I'm here. I'm alive." Bruce sat down and pulled his son onto his lap.

Dick clung to Bruce like a child, sniffling quietly until he eventually fell asleep in his father's arms.

—

For once in a long time, Dick awoke from his sleep without having a nightmare. At first, he thought it was all just a dream, until he saw Bruce sleeping on the couch next to him.

Dick blinked his eyes and yawned. He was snuggled into Bruce's side, and Damian was sleeping on the other side of him. Tim and Jason were both squeezed onto the other side of the couch.

A small smile crept onto Dick's face, the first one in weeks. He leaned back onto Bruce's shoulder and closed his eyes once again, knowing that everything would be okay.