Hello, everyone! I'm really happy that I was given so many prompts! Unfortunately, I'm still slowly but surely trekking my way through the Young Justice fandom, so I wouldn't have been able to complete every prompt I was given. Even so, you guys are awesome and thank you so much!

This is a response to Pheonix09's idea of Dick having a nightmare. With that, I added some Bat-twine, schmoops, and a sprinkle of Alfred (because hell yeah, Alfred). Hopefully, I've done this prompt justice.

If you have any other Daddy!Bats ideas, please don't hesitate to mention them!

Enjoy!

The First Fall

Bruce heard Alfred gracing the first landing of the Batcave before he saw him. The butler's steps were as sure as ever, belying the disappointment and muted concern Bruce knew for certain lingered after Dick had been put to bed. Almost idly, Bruce tapped a few keys on the computer console in front of him and leaned back in his chair as the video feed brought up the audio of the hall outside Dick's room. Aside of that simple gesture, Bruce had done no other work since he and Dick had returned home an hour ago. He was still in his suit, sweat caked at the back of his neck and at the small of his back; his cowl was abandoned on the desk beside the stairs Alfred now descended down.

"Master Bruce." Alfred spoke to him quietly, like he had done when Bruce was much younger and impulsive and couldn't resist the urges to punch holes in his wall on the nights his dreams became too violent. Bruce leaned back further in his chair, closing his eyes so all he heard was Alfred's steps approaching and the soft buzz of the feed's audio.

"Sir," Alfred said, as if he believed Bruce hadn't heard him speak the first time, "I've seen to Master Dick's needs. Are you in any need of assistance as well? Perhaps with the cleanliness, or lack thereof, in the Cave?"

Bruce took a deep breath, held it, then pushed himself to his feet and began to peel off his armor and suit. "Nothing else tonight, Alfred. I'm going to bed."

"Master Dick asked for you before he retired for the night."

"Mm," Bruce hummed flatly, kicking off his boots.

"Master Bruce." Though Bruce wasn't even facing the butler, he was still pinned by Alfred's suddenly sharp gaze. "Above all else, it is your decision on whether or not the boy's training continues, but if I may be frank, I'd rather he didn't follow you across Gotham's rooftops so frequently after tonight. A half-year's training is not nearly enough to prepare him for-"

"Understood, Alfred," Bruce sighed, "Goodnight."

Robin swung his legs out over the edge of Nameless Industry Building Number Bajillion and tugged his Bat-twine free from his belt for examination. He might leave his clothes and toys out every once in a while at home, but when he was out with Batman, he liked to keep his tools as neat as possible, if only to please his mentor.

Beside him, Batman stood guard over the city, his eyes dark behind the cowl and searching for the taillights of the "dark mauve Corvette with license plate number HT PNGWN" belonging to a trio of thieves who had robbed four establishments in one night. Gordon had been all but inescapably frustrated when Batman and his young ward appeared on the rooftop next to the Bat signal before being debriefed. Since then, the excitement had died down enough that young Robin was feeling the oncoming brushes of boredom while they waited around for a sighting.

"It's a big city," Batman had told him, "and with no leads from the police…"

"… it would be cumbersome for us to search everywhere," Robin had finished obediently.

And so there Robin sat and there Batman stood in a companionable silence. Robin was content with slowly unwinding his Bat-twine, undoing any knots he came across with an efficiency Alfred would be proud of. Aside from the current lack of action, Robin found that he was alright with being bored, since he was being bored with Gotham's greatest detective and hero. Batman had long since told him to cut it out with the hero worship, but every time Robin glanced over at his mentor's cloak and cowl, he couldn't stem the swell of delight in his chest. It was the fourth day of his first week as Robin, after months of exhaustive training; and just recently, Batman had clapped him on his shoulder when Robin managed to bring down a goon with just two well-practiced blows.

He was doing really well.

"Batman!"

Dick never called for him mid-dream, so Bruce climbed out of bed and made his way briskly down the hall when he realized the boy was awake. Hearing nothing from inside Dick's room, Batman hesitated a moment outside his door, thinking Dick had simply fallen asleep again. But then, he heard a second, plaintive call of his name. Deciding against knocking, Bruce nudged the door open and was instantly met with… an empty room?

"Dick?"

There was a snuffle and the rustle of blankets; what Bruce had thought was only Dick's abandoned duvet on the floor was a bundle of said abandoned duvet and boy. Dick struggled out of the material, whimpering softly as Bruce crouched down to help him. Once freed, Dick squirmed into Bruce's hold, breathing wetly into his sleeve.

"I've got you," Bruce said soothingly, lifting both the boy and the blanket from the floor but not yet returning them to the bed. "You're alright."

"You caught me," Dick sobbed, "You caught me."

"I did," Bruce affirmed, "And you're alright."

"Please, don't put me down," Dick begged into the already-damp spot he'd created on Bruce's sleeve. Bruce shushed him.

"I won't."

Yikes, a bigger knot. Robin furrowed his brow behind his domino mask and worked his fingers into the folds of the Bat-twine, determined to loosen it. As he twisted and tugged, he felt the twine give just enough that he could see how the original knot had come about. Oh, he sighed inwardly. There was a slight fraying just within the knot and the loose threads of the twine had been caught together. That was troublesome. Weeks ago, Robin had watched Batman unravel new twine Mr. Fox had shipped to him, and was well-aware that none of Mr. Fox's supplies were supposed to break. Or, that's what Robin had believed, anyway. Now, he was daunted by the sight of the frayed twine, but he feared whatever Batman might say about. In any case, what were the chances of the twine breaking any time soon? He probably had another fifteen uses of it before it became a real problem.

Robin went on sorting the Bat-twine, stopping his work only when Batman murmured, "Target in sight."

Turns out, the twine had much fewer uses left in it than Robin anticipated. Only five minutes later, as Batman performed a rather admirable leap onto a neighboring building's rooftop, Robin felt that he wasn't really up to trying to jump across a seven-foot gap above a hundred-foot drop and instead opted to lasso his Bat-twine around the building's antenna. He jumped, swung, and… missed?

There was a whistle in his ears, and then suddenly a snap that made his heart clench around its adrenaline. Then, he was falling.

"I'm not a good sidekick, am I?" Dick murmured later, sitting in Bruce's lap and leaning on his shoulder. Bruce adjusted his position in the armchair. "I didn't tell you about the Bat-twine."

"If that's all you haven't told me about, you're ten times more honest than I was with Alfred at your age," Bruce said, and Dick stared at him incredulously.

"You lied to Alfred?"

"Well, when you make it sound like a crime…"

Dick's expression made it obvious that Bruce's past actions had been absolutely heinous.

"Alfred said I shouldn't take you out with me for a while," Bruce said, opting to change the subject. Dick made a quiet, dismissive sound, then shook his head.

"No, I want to go with you."

"You'd go against Alfred's wishes?" Bruce was teasing.

"Only a little. Only since it's not lying," Dick said hurriedly. "I just want to go with you. Please?"

"Fine, fine," Bruce said, patting the side of the boy's head to encourage him to relax. "But go to sleep. I'll stay here for a bit."

"Alright." Dick pressed his cheek against Bruce's shoulder and wound a hand into the fabric of his shirtsleeve. As he drifted off, Bruce held onto him and decided a few months more of training wouldn't hurt Dick in the slightest.

"Batman!" was the first thing he thought to shriek, his lack of training suddenly evident in the fact that he couldn't even stem his panic to think of what tools he could use to save himself. All his body could seem to do was make him scream and flail his arms out uselessly.

The fall didn't last for long. There was a sharp jerk around his ribs as he was suddenly plucked out of the air in Batman's firm grip and deposited on the hard, solid ground of a building's concrete roof. Dick's legs lost their ability to keep him standing. Though he wasn't bursting into tears or keening in fear, Batman seemed to realize that leaving his ward and continuing pursuit of the criminals was out of order. As he scooped Dick up into the folds of his cloak for security, he radioed in to Gordon with the new leads.

"You're alright," Batman said, after switching off the communication link, "I've got you." He secured Robin and stepped to the edge of the roof to look out over the city. Blocks away, sirens wailed.

END

It's kind of a drabble, but please read and review!