Bruce Wayne couldn't concentrate. That was unusual and very irritating. He needed to think. The attack on Mount Justice, the disappearance of Red Tornado, the appearance of several other androids, this was all very troubling. And he needed to focus. He needed to get work done.

The reason he couldn't focus was standing right next to him, about elbow high and wheezing a little with every breath he took.

Dick had refused to go home without him. All of the other members of the Young Justice team had left. Superboy had disappeared into his room, slamming the door loudly as he went. J'onn and M'agan were outside, just sitting quietly, Bruce assumed doing some kind of martian meditation. Kaldor had looked so sick that Aquaman had taken him back to Atlantis to rest for a few days. Green Arrow had convinced Artemis to go home with him and Flash bribed Wally with every food Bruce could imagine if he'd just rest for a day or two.

But Dick was still standing next to him.

The boy, his boy, looked exhausted. Between almost drowning and passing out from oxygen deprivation it was hardly surprising that Dick was probably wishing he was dead. Bruce was sure he had an adult sized headache going on in his little head and he could tell that breathing was hurting because whenever he thought Bruce wasn't looking he would wrap his arms around his chest.

"Robin," he said. Dick snapped his arms back around his sides, but he was much slower than he should have been. "Go home."

"Not yet," Dick ground out through a very tightly clenched jaw. "We gotta figure this out Batman. This is really bad."

"I know, but I can do it," he said very quietly, letting his hand drop onto the boy's shoulders. "You should rest."

"Not yet," Robin repeated.

Bruce sighed and turned back to his work. Sometimes he found Dick's chatter distracting but he wished that the boy would start up again. It felt wrong for them to be working side by side in silence. Although maybe working wasn't the word for what Dick was doing. Staring blankly at the work in front of him might have been more accurate. He managed to keep his sigh very quiet.

As he reviewed the footage of the mountain he couldn't help but be impressed with his protegee, who had demonstrated his usual ingenuity and courage but also a little something more, leadership Bruce supposed. He also couldn't help but close his hands so tightly it hurt when he watched the boy get swept up in the wave of water, or Red Tornado sucking all the air out of the room as Robin and the others feebly gasped for breath that just wasn't there. How could this have happened? How could he not have seen this coming? He was supposed to be the world's greatest detective and he'd almost let his own boy get killed because he'd started trusting someone he shouldn't.

Dick let a tiny moan escape him and when Bruce looked over the boy was swaying slightly. He reached over Dick's head to rest with hand on his far shoulder, pulling the boy against his body and half wrapping him in his cloak.

"Robin," he said very gently. "It's time to go home."

"No," Dick insisted. "I can't."

"Why?" Bruce asked. It was frustrating that the boy wouldn't just give up and rest, but it seemed somewhat hypocritical to get angry at him for it.

"What if he comes back?" Dick asked very quietly. "He knows where you are, he knows how to get to the Watchtower, Batman he knows everything. I don't want you," and then he trailed off.

Oh Dick, Bruce thought a little proudly, I should have known.

"Come on," he said, pulling the boy closer. "It's time for us to go home."

"It's okay," Dick insisted. "We need to figure this out. We need to know why."

"We will," Bruce promised. "In the Batcave. Let's go."

"Kay," he agreed.

Bruce kept his cape around the boy as they swept through the mountain together and his hand stayed on the boy's shoulder. He was seriously considering picking the boy up and just carrying him but if he ran into the others he would never hear the end of it. As it was, he shot Canary the most intense glare in his arsenal when they passed in the hallways, but she had the decently not to say anything. He steered the boy to the Zeta tube keeping Dick close to him through the scan and then into the tube.

"Take off your costume Dick," Bruce said gently, pulling his cowl over his head.

"Bruce," he started, obviously trying not to whine but feeling sufficiently miserable that it was a serious struggle.

"Now."

Dick sighed loudly but did as Bruce ordered. He undressed pretty slowly, and Bruce found himself struggling not to hurry the boy. He just wanted the boy to be somewhere safe and resting, not stumbling through the Cave with his eyes half open but finally he managed to get mostly dressed in his civies. Bruce thought for a moment of just sending the boy to bed but given how unresponsive and sluggish he'd been so far Bruce took a few steps towards the boy and scooping him up.

"What?" Dick asked in confusion.

"You need to rest now Dick," he said softly as he headed towards the stairs.

"I'm too old for this," Dick muttered, twisting around a little in Bruce's arms, as though he could get out of them.

"Not tonight you're not," Bruce said firmly. Dick stopped struggling and relaxed into Bruce's arms, the way he had when he was much younger, leaning into Bruce, resting his head against Bruce's shoulder. He caught the back of Dick's head in his hand, and held him there.

"Bruce," he whispered into Bruce's neck. "I was afraid. I thought I'd got it all figured out but then Red Tornado, and watching the others."

"It's all right Dick," Bruce said. "You did very well. We'll figure it out in the morning. I promise." It seemed that just this once Dick was going to take Bruce at his word. Bruce smiled, a little tiny smile that no one saw, into the mess of black hair pressed against his face.

"Are you okay?" Dick mumbled.

"Yes."