Characters: (child!)Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne
Notes: For Aefled who when I asked, “Have any Dick angst ideas?” buried me under a mountain of pain! I included a little stuffed friend from the very first fic of yours I read, I hope that’s ok!
Summary: Dick is having a rough time during one of his first nights living at the manor.
The screaming is so loud when Dick wakes up he fears he’s gone deaf, the ruffling of the tangled sheets he pulls away remind the young boy that it was only another nightmare. He draws his legs up sitting cross legged and holding his stuffed elephant on his lap while carefully examining the shadows in his new room.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Elinore.” He tells the toy as they slip off the bed and quietly approach the door.
Out in the hallway it’s no better, the lights are dim and the shadows seem even more sinister than the one’s in his room. He holds tightly to Elinore and continues down the hall to the stairs. Somewhere in the house a clock begins it’s hourly chime and Dick leaps in fright, the stuffed animal slips from his arms and tumbles down the stairs.
“Elinore!” He shouts and without a second thought he’s sliding down the handrail of the stairs.
He jumps off at the end landing on his feet and hurriedly looks around for the lost toy when he walks into a large pair of legs. He glances up as Bruce Wayne stares down at him, in his hand is Elinore.
“What are you doing out of bed?” The older man asks.
Dick looks elsewhere as though hoping a suitable answer will form out of thin air, “I wasn’t scared or nothin’! I… I just wanted a glass of milk.”
Bruce hands him the toy back and leads him to the kitchen. Dick follows closely behind and only snags Bruce’s heels once during their short trip. Bruce pours him a glass of milk and gives it to him but Dick only gazes up at him.
After a moment of silence he speaks up, “Um, it’s cold.”
Bruce eyes him a moment before taking the milk and placing it into the microwave. A few seconds later a warm glass is given back to him.
“Thank you, uh- Mr. Wayne.” He nods.
There’s another pause and finally Bruce speaks again, “Is there something else, Dick?”
“No, it…” The glass shakes in his hand and the words come spilling out before he can stop them, “My room is too big and they keep screaming and I want them to stop but I can’t make them!”
Dick’s vision blurs as his eyes grow wet, he tries to the blink the tears away but only more come and now he’s shaking. The glass is taken from his hand and soon he finds himself being held in Bruce’s warm arms. He holds Elinore close to his chest and shuts his eyes while being carried to his room. He’s hiccuping and coughing by the time Bruce is settling him back in bed, the next thing he knows a tissue is pressed to his nose and he blows into it with the last bit of energy he has. Dick doesn’t remember hitting the pillow or falling asleep but he briefly remembers a hand combing back his hair.
When he wakes the next morning and sees the glass of milk on his nightstand he softly smiles holding up his stuffed elephant, “I think we’ll be ok today.”