[ This isn't what Dick wanted or expected it to be.
He probably should have seen that coming. It's Bruce, after all.
It shouldn't matter, that Bruce thinks he somehow wanted this, anything like this, but somehow it does, and it has him shaking his head, lips pressed into a frown, as if it leaves a literal bitter taste in his mouth. Of the many things he wanted, that he wished would happen, seeing Bruce brought down like this was never one of them. What he did ask for was seemingly impossible both then and now.
Being angry about it would be so much easier. And he is, it's just not the main thing that he's feeling right now, now that he's here in Bruce's kitchen again. ]
No, it's not.
[ He sets the coffee aside, leaning forward, eyes intent on Bruce's face. ]
This doesn't end the way you think it does. I'm not going to let that happen.
[ Dick's eyes are focused on him, Bruce doesn't have to look at him to know it. His life's been built on having eyes on him. Cameras shoved in his face. People wanting to shake his hand or ask him for a favor because their venture was the next Big Thing. So he knows when someone is looking. Even if he isn't.
He sips his coffee and stares at the newspaper still folded neatly between them. The man in the picture's face is creased, the brand peaking out from the fold. Dick could say this isn't what he asked for. Maybe the brand is a step too far. But it's in the spirit of the request. He wanted Bruce to do something. And he had. It had only shifted into something dark and ugly.
The kind of man he hadn't wanted to be. But this is who Gotham needs.
He finally looks at Dick and it feels like he's seeing him for the first time. He had never imagined they would ever be on opposing sides of the mission. But here they are, close enough to touch. Close enough to fight. ]
I think it's going to end exactly the way I mean for it to.
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no subject
He probably should have seen that coming. It's Bruce, after all.
It shouldn't matter, that Bruce thinks he somehow wanted this, anything like this, but somehow it does, and it has him shaking his head, lips pressed into a frown, as if it leaves a literal bitter taste in his mouth. Of the many things he wanted, that he wished would happen, seeing Bruce brought down like this was never one of them. What he did ask for was seemingly impossible both then and now.
Being angry about it would be so much easier. And he is, it's just not the main thing that he's feeling right now, now that he's here in Bruce's kitchen again. ]
No, it's not.
[ He sets the coffee aside, leaning forward, eyes intent on Bruce's face. ]
This doesn't end the way you think it does. I'm not going to let that happen.
no subject
He sips his coffee and stares at the newspaper still folded neatly between them. The man in the picture's face is creased, the brand peaking out from the fold. Dick could say this isn't what he asked for. Maybe the brand is a step too far. But it's in the spirit of the request. He wanted Bruce to do something. And he had. It had only shifted into something dark and ugly.
The kind of man he hadn't wanted to be. But this is who Gotham needs.
He finally looks at Dick and it feels like he's seeing him for the first time. He had never imagined they would ever be on opposing sides of the mission. But here they are, close enough to touch. Close enough to fight. ]
I think it's going to end exactly the way I mean for it to.
[ He sets his mug down and moves to get up. ]
Go home, Dick. I'm sorry Alfred wasted your time.