He's a child again

Chapter twenty-two

After his conversation with Dick, Bruce was determined to be better for his kids. He was going to be more open and he was going to be kinder. He'd done terrible things in the past and they'd plagued his mind yet it was only now that he felt the need to confront those things. That was an awful realisation but he wouldn't let those bad feelings deter him from changing. It wasn't fair on his kids that he wasn't going to address his own issues because they made him feel bad. Once Dick had dropped back off to somewhat restful sleep, he got out his phone and began researching therapists. Therapy. That was a new concept to him. He'd avoided it ever since he was younger and managed to weasel his way out of it by pretending he was better without. When his parents died, he didn't want to address the loss any further than his parents were gone. The changes were too much for him so he found it easier to rationalise everything. He was miserable for a long time after and perhaps he should've done more in those sessions but that was a while ago and there was no changing the past. He needed to focus on the present and the future. His research kept him up until the early morning but he was pleased with his findings. A therapist not too far from him who made sure everything was discreet and had many a PHD as well as co-writing some of the most influential literature in psychology was picked out. He made a promise to himself and to Dick that he'd call them in the morning when their office was open. This was rather late to change but he would change. He had to.

Dick woke up with a groan, a splitting headache attacking him the moment he was taking out of blissful unconsciousness. He panicked momentarily before remembering what had happened the day before. The bat. It took a minute to register the swing when Slade attacked him and a brief second before he felt the pain seep in. He'd felt the blood swell to the surface and spill over the edges. "Hey, it's a little early for tears chum," Bruce said, his voice having a soft rumble to it. Dick put a hand to his face and found that he was indeed crying. "What's wrong?"

"Head hurts," he replied softly. "Badly."

"You did take quite the hit. Can I quickly do a check?" The younger nodded as he began to wipe away the tears. "Follow my finger for me." Bruce moved his finger from right to left, up and down then diagonally and Dick kept up with a concentrated stare. Happy with the response, the older got up and walked to the bathroom where he fetched some extra-strength painkillers. He read through the packaging before popping out one pill and handing it over to the boy who looked rather puzzled with the gesture. "Uh B, I can't take this without water."

"Oh right. I'll go downstairs and-"

"Nah, I can drink from the tap in the bathroom," Dick suggested. He kicked off the covers and slipped off the edge of the bed, an action that was very adorable considering how high his feet were off the ground. Everything was far too big for him it seemed like he'd drank the shrinking potion in Alice in Wonderland. His clothes were too big too but that was to be expected when they suddenly had a nine-year-old in the house nearly twenty years after the first one. Well, this nine-year-old was the first one. God this was very confusing. "That's not drinking water," Bruce pointed out as he watched him toddle over to the bathroom with the pill in hand. 

"It's a water tap, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I can wash my face with the water, right?"

"Yes."

"So I should be able to drink it." The billionaire stood there for a moment. There was an element to logic there but then again, they could just go downstairs to get certifiably drinkable water. Yet by the time he'd come up with a reasoned argument, Dick had already put the pill in his mouth and chugged the water from the running tap. He tutted and moved to the drawers to find something for him to wear. "Don't tell Alfred you did that."