|The D.C Collection | Imagines, One-Shots, Preferences, and More |

From The Nest | Dick Grayson x Batmom

Description: He looked like a circus performer, and that's what makes Mary Grayson knock on the door of your mind again.

Words: 2182

Notes: Honestly, this is the cutest thing I've ever written. Definitly my favorite Dick Grayson fic that I've done.

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Dick grinned at you boyishly, taking hold of your wrist and bouncing on his feet,"C'mon, c'mon!" He urged eagerly, pulling you down the hall,"You walk so slowwww." He whined.

"I'm coming, Dick, give me a second!" You laughed. You allowed the nine-year-old to tug you, mid-shoe finding frenzy, into Bruce's office. While you pulled on some flats Dick wound the clock's hands to the time that would open it. When he swung the clock on its hinges and open, you were greeted with the smell of petrichor, and the hum of water descending from the cracks in the cave walls and onto the rocks below. Dick shot down the steps, and you quickly stumbled after him.

"Dick! Don't run! These stairs are slippery and you might fall." You warned in the motherly tone, which echoed off the limestone and dolomite. When the sentence came to your ears for the second time you felt a little guilty. In the six months since Dick had moved in with you, Bruce, and Alfred—four since he discovered the Batcave and began training—he had bounced back well. Better than Bruce had after the death of his parents, and better than you did every night Alfred hesitated to say that Bruce was on his way back safely. He was smiling more and more now. Both of the men you lived with had stated repeatedly that the cause wasn't Bruce, maybe Alfred, but mostly you.

But that was... wrong. Dick Grayson deserved to smile, he really did, but you didn't deserve to be the one to make them appear on his face. Mary Grayson did. She still does. Even if it's sad, broken smiles as Dick strokes an old family photo. You weren't Dick's mother—as much as you wanted to be, you weren't. All you can do is kiss him goodnight and hug him to you when he's upset. All you could do is hope Mary Grayson is the one giving you those bursts of parental instinct. And if she was anything like her beautiful, beautiful son, then Mary Grayson wanted Dick to have a mother even if it wasn't her.

"I'm fine—" You then hear the sound of something scraping against concrete (Dick's shoe), and then suddenly Dick's arm is in your grasp and he's almost tripped. With an awkward chuckle, he smiles at you in the dim light."... Sorry."

"Be careful, please." You flashed him a smile and helped him settle to his feet. The moment he had control again he was sprinting off to the Batcomputer, pulling you along by the hand and eagerly babbling on.

"Okay, just sit right here and I'll be back in a few." Dick spun the Batcomputer's chair around for you to sit in, and gave you a thumbs up as you sat down. He raced off and turned the corner of the display cases, disappearing behind them with a grin on his face. It took you a moment to notice a presence behind you.

"Bruce." You smiled slyly, briefly glancing over your shoulder. You were met with the exaggerated lines and curves of Bruce Wayne's torso.

Bruce uncrossed his arms and quirked something to soft to be a smirk, beginning to unravel the loosening bandages on his hands and wrists,"How did you notice I was here?"

"What kind of question is that?" You snickered. You shook your head incredulously,"You can't sneak up on me, darling."

Bruce leaned against the arm of the chair, turning enough so you could rest your head against his scar-riddled stomach. You hummed as he began to stroke your hair. He smelled of a sweat-dulled cologne you couldn't name but recognized instantly, and the scent sent your stomach into a dance of wild excitement, your heart into euphoric delirium, and your mind a muddled puddle... all in one swing. You were worried maybe you were falling too hard for Bruce Wayne. He didn't seem as concerned.