[Burns are nothing. Claw marks-- they've both taken worse than that, probably everyone in the family has, and sometimes he thinks Damian is even tougher than Bruce. Or, maybe just more stubborn.
But Alfred's fretting, in his own Alfred-y way, and it draws Dick's attention to the actual problem-- or, the most problem of a problem, and his eyes go wide behind the mask as his mouth goes flat.
Shit. Damnit. That's bad. That's bad and it's his fault, his fault for being on Apokolips in the first place and had to call the family to get a frikkin' ride home.
But he doesn't say anything; stiff as a board, arms at his sides and still curling his posture down when Damian's limping towards him, ready for the scolding that he usually gets from his elders every time he screws up. So like, every other week.
He forgets that underneath the scary face and scorn that Damian is a huge sappy cat, and he only remembers as such when he's suddenly buried in the smell of singed nomex, hissing on reflex at the momentary pressure on his ribs.
It made it really hard to still be angry. And for a moment Dick just lets his arms hang at his sides with an absolute grump on his face, but still he hugs him back-- he's getting taller now, getting bigger, his muscles filling out more spaces on his bones. Not exactly a gangly teenager, but with limbs just long enough for him end up only slightly less awkward than a puppy to small for his paws.]
no subject
But Alfred's fretting, in his own Alfred-y way, and it draws Dick's attention to the actual problem-- or, the most problem of a problem, and his eyes go wide behind the mask as his mouth goes flat.
Shit. Damnit. That's bad. That's bad and it's his fault, his fault for being on Apokolips in the first place and had to call the family to get a frikkin' ride home.
But he doesn't say anything; stiff as a board, arms at his sides and still curling his posture down when Damian's limping towards him, ready for the scolding that he usually gets from his elders every time he screws up. So like, every other week.
He forgets that underneath the scary face and scorn that Damian is a huge sappy cat, and he only remembers as such when he's suddenly buried in the smell of singed nomex, hissing on reflex at the momentary pressure on his ribs.
It made it really hard to still be angry. And for a moment Dick just lets his arms hang at his sides with an absolute grump on his face, but still he hugs him back-- he's getting taller now, getting bigger, his muscles filling out more spaces on his bones. Not exactly a gangly teenager, but with limbs just long enough for him end up only slightly less awkward than a puppy to small for his paws.]
You're the one who lost a foot.