After the conversation with Cass, there was little Dick could do. He'd convinced Tim and Damian to sleep, and Stephanie to stay, even though she felt like she didn't belong.
He could say he understood the feeling.
He couldn't go to Bruce, couldn't talk to Duke without the conversation escalating.
And frankly, he didn't trust himself with anyone right now. So, he did the second-best thing he could think of. He called Barbara.
The woman answered after the tenth ring, grunting, "You damn bats...my shift's over, Dick, what..."
"Barbara, something happened."
Silence. Then, seriously, "What happened? Were you attacked? Did something go wrong with the plan?"
"Yes...and no," he said softly. Somehow, someone had been attacked, and things hadn't gone according to plan. Just not the way Barbara imagined.
Barbara snorted, "You're not at all clear, Dick."
"Barbara, what happened was... Tim hit Bruce. Really hard. And Jason was there too..."
He explained everything to her, in detail. The argument, the fight, Jason's fury... above all, he admitted that it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Barbara listened calmly, without interrupting, until Dick finished.
Then, she asked, "How long has this been going on?"
"I... since Jason died. I was so angry..."
"And Bruce was grieving. He let you hit him because he thought he deserved it. You did it in front of Tim and he copied you, and obviously Damian and Stephanie too..."
"Look, I'm aware of my role..."
There was no judgment in her tone, just genuine curiosity, "Because sometimes it seems like you don't realize the effect you have on people. Just look at Slade."
Dick grimaced. "What's the point?"
"The point, Dick, is that you set the example, and the others followed. So far, there have never been any consequences, but it was a matter of time. What I'm wondering is... how much do you hate Bruce for continuing this for years?"
"We don't hate Bruce," Dick said, offended by the very suggestion.
But Barbara said, "To beat someone until they bleed, there must be at least some very strong resentment underneath."
"Just because Bruce is so... himself..."
"Wow, so it's okay to beat up people who are depressed, suicidal, and have undiagnosed autism. I'll tell you, that's very police-like reasoning." Dick took it as a personal insult.
"Bruce isn't all that..."
"Dick, you're smarter than that. Bruce is a textbook case. Just because you chose to ignore it in favor of using him as your own personal outlet doesn't mean it's not true."
Dick winced at that. It was sincerity he was looking for.
The reason he'd called her and not one of his friends. If he'd said something like that to Roy or Wally, they'd have been horrified, sure, but they'd have said Bruce deserved it, an opinion they'd formed mostly from Dick's ranting (and god, that was another can of worms he'd have to deal with later.)
"Now Tim and the others are worried he hates us..."
"What, it's the truth. A normal person would hate you and throw you out of the house. Damian would move in with you, and it wouldn't make much of a difference, since he's already with you most of the time..."
"...that doesn't mean I'm his father or anything..."
"...lucky for you, Bruce isn't a normal person, and he loves you very much. Anyone with eyes would see that. But what I'm wondering... do you love Bruce?"
"Of course we do," Dick tried to say, but Barbara interrupted him, "No, I'll ask again. Can you think of anything nice you've done for Bruce, instead of fighting? Like, I don't know, a Father's Day gift or something..."
"Of course..." he trailed off. Dick hadn't given Bruce a gift in at least ten years. Father's Day gifts weren't... they weren't really their thing.
First, Dick was grieving and Bruce didn't want to unleash his anger, then Dick was angry, then... um... no, there were no gifts to speak of.
He didn't remember much of anything he'd done for Bruce, always busy loving a dead father rather than the very much alive one who was still there.
"I guess not," Barbara sighed, "Bruce is a difficult man only because you refuse to acknowledge his condition and treat it accordingly. Love is a battlefield, Dick. And loving you is a fucking war. You're just lucky that, unlike me, Bruce is a better fighter."
"I... Barbara... what should we do..."
"Apologize, for starters. And start treating him with a modicum of human decency, if possible. And if that's too much to ask... I don't know, just walk away. It would hurt Bruce, but at least he might start to feel better without you around, and maybe his boyfriend..."
"Oh, you obviously don't know...he and Clark started dating..."
Not because Dick wanted it to. But because damn Superman had just taken his phone and smashed it to smithereens.
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