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Larissa had taken to the boy quickly, which Bruce was happy about. The decision to take Richard Grayson in had been a large one he hadn’t told her about. Things in their lives had been changing rapidly. He was back out as Bruce Wayne, no longer hiding away from the public eye. Bruce was now under more scrutiny from Gotham than he ever had been before.
Meaning that she was also put out to the public. The younger woman had made it clear to him that she would not be kept a secret. That she could handle it. Bruce had only nodded at her, and they moved on. Their lives became public even quicker than Bruce thought, but the pair was good at putting on a show.
With the addition of Dick, Bruce managed to keep the little boy out of the public eye for as long as he could. Letting him mourn and adjust to life in Gotham. To adjust to becoming Robin.
He had left early that morning, barely sleeping at all between wrapping up his patrol and having to get up. Larissa hadn’t even stirred when he left. Meeting after meeting had been put onto him. It was Bruce’s fault, pushing them off until he couldn’t anymore.
For the first time in a long time, Bruce wondered how things were fairing at home. Larissa had taken to a lot of Dick’s daily care. Getting him ready for school, dropping him off and picking him up, helping him with homework. She was doing well, better than he could ever do alone. Not that he would ever be alone, Alfred had taken to the boy too. The older man’s eyes held a certain warmth to them as he led the boy around. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slightly as he fought off a headache.
Wayne Tower stood tall, a welcoming sight for the first time in a long time. Traveling to different meetings wasn’t exactly something Bruce liked to do, but it helped soothe all the burns he had started to make in his absence as head of the company. The entrance to the underground car park opened easily. His head nodded to the worker with ease as he zipped under the building. Bruce’s fingers moved his sunglasses off his face, putting them in the glass holder with the same movement. Fingers then moving back to run through his hair.
The texture of the gel causes his fingers to open and close. Icky, is what Larissa called it, and in that moment he couldn’t help but agree. Yellow lights ran through the tunnel as he drove down, the Stingray moving with ease. Bruce pulled into the spot. The smooth drive finally came to an end as he put the car in park. Tugging the keys from the hole he opened the door, stretching as he stood up. Bruce grabbed folders in his front seat before making his way to the elevator.
Bruce started to pull at his tie as the whirl of the tower’s elevator came to life. It brought him up quickly, allowing him to enter the living space of the tower with ease. His eyes shifted briefly as he moved towards the main living area. Alfred was seated at the table, his fingers filtering through staff letters and mail.
“Good afternoon Master Bruce,” the older man hummed, head turning as he caught sight of Bruce. Eyes fluttering down briefly towards the manilla folders.
“Alfred,” Bruce greeted, voice soft once more, no longer needing to hide behind the thick mask of Bruce Wayne CEO.
The younger man idly handed them to Alfred when he stood. Taking his jacket off next, letting the older man pluck it from his fingers. Bruce’s head tilted slightly, his eyes squinting slightly as he looked towards the stairs.
“If you’re looking for them, they are upstairs,” Alfred said gently, hand patting Bruce’s shoulder gently. “Master Dick is not feeling well,” the butler hummed, “and Miss Larissa is not very happy about it.”
Bruce simply nodded, eyebrows pinching slightly at the thought of Dick being sick. “Thank you, Alfred,” he said while moving away from the older man, moving to walk up the ornate staircase towards the bedrooms.
If Richard were sick that would explain the silence. The little boy was a ball of sound. Asking about everything and anything he could. Larissa had told him that all eight-year-olds were loud and eager to explore as well. Bruce bit his tongue when the words ‘I wasn’t’ bubbled up in his throat. But Bruce was not normal.
The upstairs hallway was dimly lit, the lamps along the walls bathed the area in a warm yellow light. Bruce’s tie came off as he strained his ears to see what room they were in. The sound of a muffled television show came from his room. Breathing in a sigh he pushed the oak door open easily, blue eyes shifting over the dark room. A blue sheen of light bathed the room, illuminating the two lumps under his covers. On silent feet he entered the room, padding over to the large bed slowly, the door closing behind him softly.
Larissa lifted her head gently; her hand was gently rubbing the little boy’s back as he curled into her chest.
“He’s not feeling well,” she said softly as Bruce sat on the edge of bed. Her palm moved to Dick’s sweaty forehead.
Dick only shuffled closer in his dazed sleep. His breathing comes out in soft congested wheezes. Bruce leaned over slightly. His hand shooing away his girlfriends to feel Dick’s forehead for himself. Richard was warm. Too warm to be normal. Frowning slightly, he pulled away gently, hand moving to turn on the beside lamp. He ignored the way Larissa closed her eyes against the light.
But he could see the eight-year-old better. He was flushed, sweaty, and drooling slightly.
“He’s sick,” Bruce stated, blue eyes flickering up to Larissa’s own eyes.
The blonde blinked at him, head tilting as she flatly spoke to him, “No shit Bruce.” Her hand brushed back Dick’s hair, slicking it back off his forehead as she sighed. “He hasn’t left my side all day. He threw up earlier,” Larissa frowned looking up at Bruce. “Poor thing has been shaking since you left. We went to the doctor. Stomach bug.”
Bruce nodded. It made sense. Other children at school surrounded Dick, and much more public transport now. Yet as he looked up at Larissa his eyebrows twitched. She was angry. Her narrowed expression gave that away, but Bruce was unsure of why. She could not be mad at Dick for getting sick. He was just a boy, and Bruce didn’t believe that the boy got sick on purpose.
“You’re angry,” he stated.
“How perceptive Bruce,” she answered rolling her eyes slightly as she looked at him.
“Why?” Bruce asked softly, watching how her fingers gently rubbed over Dick’s cheek.
The little one groaned lowly, rolling onto his stomach as he got comfortable again. Bruce and Larissa watched him carefully, hawklike eyes making sure the little acrobat was comfortable before looking at each other again.
“You let him run around with you last night,” painted nails scratched Dick’s back lightly. “It was pouring out and he doesn’t have sleeves on his stupid suit,” Larissa’s nose crinkled as she frowned up at the larger man. Her hand moving from Dick’s back to flick Bruce’s forehead.
Catching her wrist easily, Bruce kissed her knuckles, “I kept him out of the rain…for the most part.”
Bruce had kept him from the rain. Instead, Bruce went to talk to Gordon about a few cases popping up in Gotham. Richard hadn’t been interested in talking to Gordon. Instead, he bounced at Bruce’s feet while trying to be good. Officer Martinez had kept Dick interested in a hand-held video game. Allowing Bruce uninterrupted time to help Gordon. Bruce looked down at Larissa, rubbing her palm softly while he sighed gently.
“For the most part,” she rolled her eyes. “Go get the medicine from Alfred while I wake him up,” Larissa said softly. Sitting up in bed she stretched her spine arms stretching up. “He needs to cool down, and I doubt he will want to move to the bath.”
Nodding softly Bruce leaned over Dick, his hand cupping the back of Larissa’s head as he pulled her closer. His lips pressed against the forehead softly, a little thank you for watching over Richard.
“You aren’t getting out of trouble by being sweet,” she stated leaning in to kiss his cheek anyway, her smile pressed into his skin.
…
“’rissa,” Dick whined, his dry throat making his voice raspy.
The older woman was crossing the room, a tub of vapor rubs in her hand. “Right here Dickie,” Larissa said softly, pushing her hand under his shirt to rub the menthol salve against his chest.
Richard sniffled pouting up at her as she adjusted to him, making sure he was comfortable against the pillows. “I got to go with Bruce,” he whined lamely yet not attempt to get up.
“You are going nowhere,” she hummed at him, wiping her hands against her pants before she wiggled Dick’s sleep shirt down. Cool hands pressing against his head forehead.
“Gotta go,” he coughed, head turning as it rattled his chest spitting up mucus as Larissa held a tissue to his mouth. “What if he gets hurt? I got to help him,” Dick panted, head spinning as she wiped his mouth.
The blonde woman was shushing him, a wet washcloth soothed over his head and neck as she helped him lay back down against the pillows.
“Bruce will be fine,” Larissa whispered, fingers combing through his hair as she kissed his forehead.
“’rissa,” he tried lamely, eyes already closing.
It was hard to fight off her caring tone. Dick couldn’t even move if he wanted to. His limbs felt heavy, arms too sluggish, and tried to push himself up. Her bed was nice and cold too, soothing his heated skin, and on top of it all, her hand was rubbing his head. The soothing motion of her fingers brushing through his hair had him sighing. Dick really couldn’t find it in himself to argue with how nice she was being.
He lay in the center of the bed, tucked in loosely while she kept running the washcloth over him. Wiping over his forehead, down to his neck, and even his arms. Her hands messaging his before the washcloth sloshed in the bowl of water. Although he couldn’t bring himself to argue, he could muster up a pout. Lower lip jutted out as she dotted on him.
Sleep came easy to him, after illuding him the moment Larissa woke him to get into the bath. He grunted lowly; eyebrows pinched together as he slowly woke up again. Eyes bleary looking around. The lights had been turned off, well mostly, the city lights that poured in through the window had to be the best nightlights he had ever gotten to experience.
Looking to his right he noted Larissa was sleeping too. Curled up protectively next to him, in his left hand an old bucket. Richard panted, whining lowly as saliva filled his mouth.
It happened quickly, his stomach turning as he launched up into a seated position. His eyes closed as he threw up into the bucket that was being held in front of him.
When had that gotten there?
“It’s alight Richard,” a low male voice hummed, a large warm hand settled against the back of his neck as Dick sobbed.
Bile stinging his throat as he retched, stomach heaving with force as he threw up again until he was dry heaving. The warm hand on his neck pulled him back gently, as a thumb swiped over his cheeks. Clearing the tears as they fell.
Larissa was awake too, Richard noticed. Her hand pushed the washcloth over his mouth as quickly as she could, wiping leftover vomit from his chin as Bruce cradled his head and face.
“Rinse your mouth,” Bruce coached lowly, shifting only slightly to press the lip of a water bottle to Dick’s lips.
The littlest one swished and spat into the bucket like he was instructed to. His nose crinkled at the smell of vomit which only caused his stomach to turn again. The black-haired boy heaved once more the bucket was gone and was replaced with a large metal pot instead.
It rested on Dick’s lap as Larissa got up from the bed. Disappearing somewhere. Dick reached out blindly, hands grabbing onto the first thing he could get ahold of. Which happened to be Bruce’s wrist. The older man had shifted so his sleeve brushed under Dick’s eyes, trying to soak up as many tears as possible. Everything hurt. His stomach. His head. His throat: Richard couldn’t even keep his eyes open.
“It’s okay,” Larissa’s voice came back, her hand gently soothing over his tummy as he sobbed. “Richard you’re alright,” she whispered, free hand resting on his back.
“Hurts,” he wheezed leaning into Bruce’s hands like they could take the pain away.
The older man shifted him. Letting go of his face to push the pot off his legs and pick up Dick. Richard flung his arms around Bruce’s neck, hiccup into his shoulder as Bruce laid down with him. Long legs stretched out on the mattress as Larissa joined them.
Together they laid down, Larissa’s worried gaze hidden from the little boy while the two adults tried to calm him down.
“Breathe Richard,” Bruce whispered into his ear rubbing his back softly.
Bruce’s presence was nice. The older man was strong and calm, like a lighthouse in a stormy sea. Dick rested his cheek against Bruce’s chest and whined, trying to match Bruce’s breathing. Wet tear-stained eyes point towards Larissa, who was humming at him. Her index finger was soothing over his cheek.
“There you go,” Bruce said gently, hand cradling his head to his chest before sweeping his hair off his forehead. The rough pads of his fingers caused Dick’s eyes to flutter shut.
Larissa laid her head against Bruce’s free shoulder, the backs of her fingers kept up the soft rubbing to Dick’s cheek, a calming motion that sent Dick back to sleep in just a few minutes.