capeandcowllogs | For incompetence and cowardice [DROPPED]

WHO: Dick (who is eighteen years old), Bruce (Batman)
WHERE: Caaaave
WHEN: March 3rd, late evening. After that exchange.
WHAT: Batman meets Miller's Dick Grayson because... just because. Because he's Batman!
WARNING: I can predict eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemo.
FORMAT: Paraform

Dick didn't know where the Cave was. He had been slightly surprised that Batman already had one set and then remembered that his Batman had been here first and had probably set it up. Either way - he didn't know the city at all and there was no Wayne Manor to give out any indication as to where the Cave might me.

He asked Tim about it because it was easier than asking Bruce. Tim warned him that the Cave wouldn't be what he was used to (something positive since the lesser associations he could make, the easier it would be to keep his cool) and gave him indications.

It was out of the city and so Dick took one of the bikes (he like riding a bike) Tim had apparently started gathering in his team's HQ's... equivalent of a garage, he guessed, and took of. Halfway there he was already mentally hitting himself over accepting to meet Bruce at all but he wasn't going to back away now. He'd take it as neutrally as possible. They were possibly going to exchange information, Dick was not Robin anymore so it wasn't even his boss... it was just someone who weirdly wanted to help. Yes. No need to be overly emotional about that - no anger, no... neediness if that was even a word.

And he couldn't lie to himself about the fact he wanted to see Bruce. He hadn't seen him (another him) in months and he... just wanted to. Mixed feelings of 'I don't want to need you but I do and my life if a crappy soap opera'. He was starting to get used to the soap opera... which he couldn't tell if it was good or not.

He arrived at the Cave and left his bike in a non-obvious spot and hoped that the security system would agree that he was Dick Grayson (and that it was set up to let Dick Grayson enter in the first place). It did... and then, walking down the stairs, Dick concentrated on his breathing - steady and slow. It's all he could do.

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Batman waited for him. He was good at waiting. People thought that what he did was all about the physical side of things - fighting for his life, fighting for everyone's lives. But far more of it involved staying perfectly still, watching without interfering.

The cowl was up, for the moment, the better to hide his expression. The better to let him see Dick first, to gauge his mood and reactions. He wasn't ready for this; didn't want to see a Dick he'd failed so badly. But that wasn't what mattered. He, or some version of himself, had caused this. He couldn't fix it; there wouldn't be time for that. But he could mkae it better. Under the circumstances, he was the only one who could.

"Hello, Dick."

Bruce still had his cowl on when Dick first caught a glimpse of him. Somehow it wasn't surprising at all because he was still Batman and would like to be able to judge and analyze Dick before the opposite was possible. He looked exactly like his Batman, and yes, Dick had hoped this wouldn't be the case. It would have been easier for him if they had been different enough that he could tell.

He would just have to repeat himself constantly that they are different. It could be his new mantra 'This is not my Bruce, this is not my Bruce.' Woah, he was really desperate. At least, Bruce didn't know what he was thinking.

He stayed far enough and kept a flat expression on, "You - wanted to see me." He also didn't stutter which was going to be good enough.

"I did." He walked toward him, one careful step at a time. Almost stalking him - his sharp gaze, hidden by the mask, sweeping him up and down.

But this wasn't the correct approach. The one Dick was probably used to, but not the way to fix this, not the way to mend what had been broken inside him, even partially. One possible approach, but not the one he suspected would be most successfuly.

Bruce pushed the cowl back in one decisive move; looked at Dick without the barrier and aids built into it. "Welcome back. How are you?"

Dick didn't step back when Bruce walked towards him. That would have shown weakness and he didn't need every Batman ever thinking he was weak and incompetent. One was clearly enough. He was, however, glad that he stopped just withing arm's reach. Close would have been... hard to deal with, invading but not really.

And then he pushed off the cowl and it was Bruce, a bit older, maybe, but it was still the lines of his face and his eyes. Looking at him like he may have been someone worth looking at. Dick gulped and was unable to keep looking straight at him, instead redirecting his stare to Bruce's chest.

"I'm." The question was harder than it should have been, "disoriented, I guess. I'll get used to it."

He sounded nervous, hesitant in a way not typical for the Dick he knew, but he'd expected that. Even expected the way he looked away, not meeting his gaze.

"It's a lot to take in," he commented, tone as mild as he could make it, despite the fact that he would have expected Dick to have coped better than this one seemed to be, particularly by this age. It wasn't the first time that Bruce had looked at a face that was familiar and yet not, but it wasn't the sort of thing that got easier. Not when it was someone he knew well and cared about carefully not looking at him like this.

"Have a seat."

Bruce kept acting casual, not saying anything truly interesting, talking very little. Even with that amount of talking, Dick could qualify what he was doing of 'small talk'. Bruce was probably trying to make it easier for him and was doing so very carefully, waiting for Dick to, maybe, reach out.

That was not his Bruce, and Dick should have been able to cope way better than this. It was a bit strange that being transported into an alternate universe hadn't fazed him that much and that he had coped with that part of the situation fast enough... but that Robins being around, Batman being there was a completely different matter. He had reacted so very badly to Tim... Geez, it was a wonder that Bruce wasn't glaring at him for the way he had treated him the previous morning. Although... maybe Tim hadn't talked to his Batman about it? Dick hadn't made his presence known so Tim had to have talked about him to Bruce, he just didn't know how much he'd said.

He didn't sit when Bruce offered him to, instead looking up again (because he could do thing - it wasn't his Bruce) and sighing, "Did Tim talk to you about me, yet?" Is that why I'm here?

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" Dodging the question, but he'd rather hear answers from Dick anyway. It didn't matter what Tim had told him. What mattered was the truth and the teenager who could tell him that was right here.

He didn't force him to sit; it was merely a gesture to put him more at ease. Neither of them required it. So he stood where he was, hands kept at his side with an effort, carefully relaxed and open. He didn't smile; that was too much of a lie and Dick deserved better. Bruce offered him instead the truth: an expression that said he was listening with his full attention.

"Not answering, uh?" Dick said immediately, "That can't be good." He didn't expand on the subject because that would have required begin talking about Tim and about Jason, and just about other Robins in general which was a very good way for Dick to eventually completely destroy the composure he still had.

"Did you really - want to meet me so we could talk about my life?" He frowned, not sure where this was coming from and where it would be going.

"You knew my younger self, too, right? Like everyone else here. So you know about my history before being Robin," he stated, "What do you want to know? I'm eighteen right now. I live in Gotham. I'm thinking about moving to Metropolis for College. This kind of things?" The part about Metropolis was true enough, but another factor that was influencing his thoughts process was Luthor's offer. That he really wasn't going to talk about.

"Yes." It wasn't, of course, not entirely. The important thing was to get him talking, get him used to being here and to his company. Once that was accomplished, he could ask about more sensitive subjects.

"Would you like tea? I'm afraid I don't make it as well as Alfred, but it should be drinkable." His smile was wrong: the affable, self-deprecating smile of Bruce Wayne rather than the sterner expression of Batman. Perhaps Dick would take exception to it, but it was the role he was most accustomed to for this sort of task. As Bruce Wayne, he charmed his way into affection and influence and this was a situation that called for all the charm he could manage.

It wasn't the only approach, of course. He could be harsh; overwhelm with fear, command obedience by playing on the instinct formed over long years of training. But that wasn't the approach he preferred, nor the result he was looking for. There was a way to reach this boy and he would find it.

He was really, really not going to talk about whatever Tim had told him. And that made Dick wonder how much Tim had babbled about and what he had said exactly even more. Asking would keep on being useless, though, so he shut up on the subject and let it go.

Now would have been a good time to take on the offer of sitting down because drinking tea while standing up would be weird, but he didn't want to be sitting down. And, really he didn't really want any tea either. "No, I'm fine," he answered frankly, and didn't miss how the smile was Brucie's. Bruce was totally trying to charm him right now... and he couldn't deny how wary and uneasy he was and so it was logical, in some way.

And he'd asked him a question... he could answer, really. "You knew me as a kid, right? I don't know how much I told you at that point. Anything specific you'd like to know?"

For incompetence and cowardice [DROPPED]

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