#bruce might seem ooc. i've been reading a lot of wfa so this is very much a “what if bruce actually went to therapy” sorta vibe

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #17

part 1 || part 2

xxx alternate prompt: regret

"Hey," Bruce says. He's standing casually in the middle of the room, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other lifting in an awkward half-wave.

Dick forces his expression to stay pleasant as he thanks the nurse again and shuts the door behind her. The smile is gone when he whirls to face Bruce, and apparently his anger is even more evident than he realized because Bruce looks a little taken aback. He straightens up, taking his hand out of his pocket.

"Dick--"

"What are you doing here?" Dick practically snarls.

"Barbara asked me to come. She's worried about you. All of us are, you--"

"So you're here to see me," Dick interrupts. "Because you're worried about me. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not the one who's in a hospital bed, Bruce."

Irritation flashes across Bruce's face, his jaw setting stubbornly. "He doesn't want to see me."

"Did it even occur to you to ask? He thinks you hate him!"

"I don't hate him. He knows that."

"Oh, does he? Because after the surgery on his arm, he seemed pretty convinced that you do."

Bruce's brow furrows. "Heavy pain meds can make people say all kinds of things."

"Don't give me that!"

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Dick, I didn't come here to argue. You're obviously tired, and I know what happened was stressful, but--"

That's what does it. All the emotions that he's spent the past few days shoving down come hurtling, violently, to the surface. And once they hit the air, they explode.

"Stressful?" He barely keeps from shouting the word. "Stressful, Bruce? I was under there with him for over two hours trying to keep him calm and alert until they could get to us!"

He closes his eyes, body tensing as the memories come. The sounds of debris shifting around them, the scratch in his nose and throat as concrete dust rained down. The constant, overbearing sense of dread, knowing that any wrong move would bury him and Jason under literal tons of concrete.

His voice is quiet when he speaks again, but sharp.

"He lost consciousness maybe ten minutes before the paramedics could reach him. He was really out of it for the last bit, started rambling. Just – nonsense, mostly. But do you know what the last thing he said to me was? He said, Tell Bruce I did good. He thought he was dying. I could see it in his face. And those were the final words he picked. He wanted to make sure you knew that he'd saved those kids."

Bruce's expression wavers. "I – I'm sorry you had to go through that. Both of you. But you can't really think that it's my fault that he want in there."

Dick lets out a frustrated groan, burying his head in his hands. "Is that what you think? That I blame you, Bruce, and that's why I'm pissed? You are so self-centered sometimes it's actually mind-blowing! Obviously Jason going to save those kids and getting caught in the explosion wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault! But not visiting? That absolutely is. I know that there are a lot of times when he pulls away, Bruce, or when he pushes you away, but you let him."

"He's an adult." There's no conviction in Bruce's words. He sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "I can't just make him stay around if he doesn't want to."

"No, but you could try." He takes a deep breath. "When he first came back, a lot of the anger and hurt and resentment was because he felt like you didn't fight for him. We both know those wounds haven't fully healed. How helpful do you think it is if you keep making him feel that way? You won't succeed every time. Maybe you won't ever. But you could try."

Bruce is quiet. "Dick," he says softly, and it looks like he's searching for the right words to say. He must not find them, because he doesn't say anything else. There's guilt on his face, now, and shame.

Good.

"Are you gonna come see him?" Dick asks.

Bruce flinches. "I – can't."

Dicks scoffs. He doesn't know why he expected anything different; Bruce is standing in a hospital waiting room in a Tom Ford suit for god's sake.

"Really, Dick, I can't, I have--"

"Yeah, no. I got it. I thought you were dressed a little too nicely for a hospital visit," Dick says, turning on his heel. "See you around."

Jason is still asleep when Dick gets back to his room. Haley is there, too, and she pretends to be busy checking something when Dick walks in.

"You okay?" she asks as Dick throws himself into his chair with a sigh.

"Yeah," Dick says. He doesn't sound convincing.

"Okay," Haley says. She doesn't sound convinced. "Hey, uh. Guests are normally only supposed to eat in the cafeteria, but I could bring by some ice cream later."

Dick forces up one corner of his mouth. "Ice cream sounds good. Thanks."

He shifts in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position and eventually settling for the one that's the least uncomfortable. Blowing up at Bruce had drained him, burning through the last of his meager reserves. When he falls asleep, it's entirely against his will.

-

He's awakened by a knock, gasping awake as he sits up in the chair and tries to orient himself.

"You have my ice cream?" he says.

The door opens, and it's not Haley that's standing there, but Bruce, who offers a wan smile.

"I don't have any ice cream, unfortunately."

Dick doesn't respond, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away.

"He's asleep."

"Yeah. Do you mind if I sit?"

Dick resists the urge to roll his eyes and shrugs with one shoulder. Bruce steps into the room, gently shutting the door before sitting in the chair next to Dick. Neither of them look at each other. There are a few tense, silent moments, and then Bruce speaks.

"I was at a city council meeting." He pauses, waiting for Dick to respond. When Dick doesn't, he keeps talking. "I'm going to be funding a project to try and make sure that something like what happened at Riverview doesn't happen again. There's a lot of old housing that needs to be updated and--" He falters, then sighs. "Anyway. I'm not here to talk about myself. I just wanted to let you know why I couldn't come before...You're right, Dick."

That startles Dick enough to look up. Bruce is staring down at his hands.

"Sometimes...sometimes when he's struggling, or when I am, I look at him and all I can see is my own failure. I'm fully aware of how outrageously unfair that is, and that just makes it worse."

It's hard for Dick to keep being made at him when he's being this vulnerable.

"I hate feeling like that," Bruce continues. "It's so much easier to be angry."

"But not really," Dick says. He's not sure how he would describe Bruce and Jason's relationship, but easy is definitely not on the list.

Bruce sighs.

"No, not really. It's just a different sort of difficult. A more comfortable sort, I guess."

"Yeah," Dick says.

The next silence is a little less uncomfortable than the last one had been. Again, Bruce is the one to break it.

"I want him to stay at the manor for his recovery. I've already talked with a PT who's willing to come to him. And I think he could use the extra support, and the company. Not my company, I'll stay out of his way as much as possible. It's a big house, so it shouldn't be too hard."

Dick rolls his eyes, letting out a small snort, and Bruce looks over sharply.

"You don't think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's a great idea. It's just, calling Wayne Manor a big house is a little like calling Lake Superior a big pond."

Bruce looks visibly relieved. "Oh. Good. So you'll talk to him?" Dick could slap him. Apparently Bruce can see that in his expression because he quickly says, "I'll talk to him."

"Good," Dick says. He stretches, his back popping in several spots, loudly enough that Bruce raises an eyebrow. Dick responds by cracking all of his knuckles. "Are you good to stay here for a few hours while I go get a shower and a decent meal, maybe a bit of shut eye?"

He says it casually, but it's a huge act of trust on Dick's part. Bruce seems to understand that, because he looks a little startled. And then he nods.

"I can do that."

He's just on his way out when Haley rounds the corner, a small cup of ice cream in her hand.

"Oh! Did you need something from the vending machine? Because the vending machine guy comes tomorrow and the one on this floor is running low on the good stuff. I would try the one near pedes, down on the second floor."

"Actually," Dick says, "I'm going home for a bit."

Haley beams. "Really? Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! You could use a break! You want this to go?"

Dick smiles. "No, I'm okay. But the guy in the fancy suit in there? He could probably use some ice cream right now."

"You got it. Go get some rest."

"I will."

He does.

xxx