Dick had passed out on the way home which honestly, Steph and Jason were glad for. He needed the rest and they needed time to think about what they were supposed to say to him. Steph held him in her lap and ran her fingers through his hair partially to keep him relaxed and partially to keep herself in check. 

What could they say to Dick when he woke up? He nearly killed someone tonight. That man was fighting for his life in the hospital by now and Dick was sitting with them looking so tiny with flecks of blood on his uniform. He was pale too and shivering even in his sleep so the shock hadn't worn off yet. 

None of them wanted to defend the man he'd almost killed, not even Bruce who was all about not killing people. If they were honest, they couldn't be sure that if it were any of them in Dick's place that they wouldn't have done the same thing and would also need someone to stop them from going too far. The issue was that it was Dick in that position. A boy who had never been trained to kill had almost done just that knowing full well it was the wrong thing to do but that won't make it any better. 

"He really went apeshit on that guy, huh?" Steph said just to break the silence.

"I don't blame him," Jason replied. 

"Do you think he'll be able to handle it? You know what he was like after Joker and Blockbuster."

"We'll be there this time," was all he replied. They knew there was a storm on the horizon but what they didn't know was if they were prepared for the fallout.

When they got home, Dick woke up but was clearly not himself. Alfred was waiting for them with a tray of tea and a plate of cookies but the boy didn't even spare him a glance. He moved through the cave like a ghost and went straight to the changing room. They didn't follow after him, hoping the space would help.

"I'm guessing you know what happened?" Jason asked the butler who nodded solemnly. "It was one hell of a shit show."

"Indeed. It's a beastly thing although I'm afraid I don't exactly have a bleeding heart for the man," he replied. Alfred had always been a frank man and they wished Dick had been there to hear it. He could do with hearing they were all on his side in theory but in practice, he couldn't go around nearly murdering the people who hurt him. "Where are the others?"

"Likely on their way home. I know Cass won't be able to stay out after this," Steph informed him. "Please tell me he developed his whole self-destructive thing when he was a teenager."

"You saw his bedroom," the butler replied. Flashes of a destroyed bedroom and a tiny boy completely out of it invaded her mind and she knew the same had happened to Jason. It wasn't an image you got overseeing. She mustered up an understanding nod and watched the entrance of the cave. Although she was definitely one of the more emotionally intelligent members of the family, she was out of her depths on this one. 

"What do you think Bruce will do?" She had to ask because honestly, she had no clue. With Bruce going to therapy and being a better parent thanks to it, she doubted he was going to fly off the handle about the moral code they all abide by but she couldn't guarantee that he'd be this gentle parenting guru with all the answers. 

"I'm not sure but I have faith it'll be a measured response. The boy has had enough punishment to last a lifetime."

One by one, their siblings showed up, each of them sporting a grim look for the conversation yet to come. None of them made any attempt to coax him out of the changing rooms he hadn't exited from, silently deciding to leave that to Bruce when he came back. Damian had gone in the direction of the room with no intent to coax him out but just to talk to him until Cass grabbed his arm and shook her head. She didn't explain why but he trusted her to be right. They hadn't heard any smashing or screaming or crying so they could assume he was physically safe in there although nobody was naive enough to think he was alright.

There was a quiet agreement amongst them that they wouldn't hold this against Dick. He'd gotten angry and gone too far but so had they at some point during their hero journeys. It happened to the best of them. Even Superman had done the same and they would be sure to bring this up after the fact to bring Dick some peace of mind. 

Finally, Bruce turned up. He got out of the car like there were ten tonnes of weight sitting on his shoulders and he already looked exhausted despite not even starting the hardest part of the night yet. His children watched him carefully and he suddenly felt even more pressure to get this right. He'd been debating how to go about it in the ride over and he still had no real clue what he was going to do. He was sure of what he wouldn't do and that was losing his temper. At no point would he raise his voice in anger or degrade his ward as he'd shamefully done in the past. He wouldn't make Dick fear him finding out about another mistake. 

"Where is he?" he asked, lowering his cowl. That was another thing he was sure of. It wouldn't be Batman handling this, it would be Bruce. Dick didn't need his boss right now, he needed his father and possibly a therapist to work through his evidently complicated emotions but he only had access to one of those right now.

"In the changing rooms. He hasn't left since we got here," Jason answered. 

"How is he?"

"Catatonic at best." 

"Right," he sighed. "I'd appreciate it if you all went upstairs for the time being. I don't think either of us would like an audience for what happens next." They glanced at one another hesitantly. "I promise, it's going to be different."

"It better be," Jason said which seemed to me the magic response to get the family moving upstairs to wait. Alfred lingered for a moment, watching him carefully and appraising him before nodding. Whatever he'd seen, it was enough to make him trust Bruce to handle this.

After a steadying breath, Bruce walked over to the changing rooms and knocked on the door before entering. Dick was sat on the bench mostly still in his uniform aside from his bloodstained shirt in his hands. He gripped onto it tightly and his eyes bore holes into the fabric like it was at fault for his behaviour. Bruce had seen the look on him so many times that he could somewhat accurately guess the thoughts racing through the boy's mind and none of them would be good. It appeared that Dick hadn't noticed his presence until he sat beside him, leaving a foot between them so as to not crowd him.

"Is he okay?" Dick asked, his voice wrecked as though he'd been crying but his face bore no tear tracks. He was simply that distraught. 

"He will be. It's not the worst Gotham General has seen." He nodded distantly. "I think it might be a good idea if we delayed your next patrol." Bruce thought he'd agree but instead, his head whipped up with the most heartbroken expression such a young face could pull. 

Instantly, they were Batman and Robin the first time around, the night when Batman decided he couldn't lose his son to the game and tried to snatch it away from him with nothing to fill in the gap. Bruce's stomach churned with guilt as he realised he'd made a terrible mistake once again. 

"What? No! You-you can't take this away."

"I'm not taking it away," he quickly reassured him but the damage was done already.

"Dad please I'm sorry! I promise I won't do it again!" Dick sobbed. 

There were few sounds in the world that could bring Bruce to his knees from sheer grief alone and hearing his child so frightened was one of them. He never intended to make him so scared like all the love he had before was now gone. He'd made that mistake before with Jason so he was swift to correct it by gathering the small boy up in his arms and shushing him gently.

"I know, I know," he assured him. "You were mad. You weren't in the right frame of mind."

"You trusted me with this, B and I messed up."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You trusted me to be Nightwing and I ruined it! I ruin everything!" he explained through ragged breaths. Bruce found himself fearing his lips would turn blue from the way he was carrying on. "But you have to let me try again, I promise I won't mess up."

"You don't ruin everything and I'm not taking your title away," Bruce insisted. His voice was stern and confident, as was he for once in his life when his child was crying. "It's just a little break or maybe some supervised and organised patrols first but I'm not taking anything away and this isn't a punishment."

"But you said I was in trouble?"

"You are but not because you're a bad person and I'm not taking away Nightwing as punishment. I-I'm not going to punish you for this."

"You have to, just not by taking Nightwing. It's all I can do to make up for it."

"You have nothing to make up for. You lost your temper, you fought harder than needed and you're sorry about it. I'm not going to punish you for reacting to seeing a man who hurt you."

"I don't understand. I'm a bad person. I should be in juvie for what I did, you can't just let me go!" 

His baby. That was what Dick was even if he had never been there to see the infancy. This was his baby boy, his son in every sense of the word that mattered. His poor baby was sobbing and near inconsolable, frightened of himself and the consequences, so much so that he couldn't possibly comprehend how it didn't make him an awful person. None of them could blame him for acting so violently but none of them ever thought he was capable of something so young. Even Bruce had realised in the beginning that letting Dick work without guidance or trying to prevent him from working altogether would only lead to bloodshed one way or another.

"You're not a bad person, you just did a bad thing."

"It's the same thing!"

"It's not," he stated. He shouldn't have even brought up any consequences at all until he was sure Dick was in the right place to understand it wasn't a change meant to punish him but to prevent this from happening again. He wished he could rewind time and when in the past he would give up there and then, he pushed on. "You are not a bad person." Dick shook his head and hid his face in his shoulder. "You're not a bad person and right now, you don't need punishment. You need out of those clothes, a shower and some downtime before bed."

"Promise you're not mad?"

"I'm not mad. Trust me, you're not the first to nearly kill someone- now I've said that aloud, I don't think that was comforting." 

Yet to his surprise, he heard a hint of laughter from his ward. 

"You're hopeless B," he mumbled. 

"Give me time yet."