There's something so terribly secretive about fathers and pain. Fathers are open wounds, and Bruce isn't the exception of the rule.
But he's very, very good at disguising it. He's a haunted house and refuses to let them in, and a part of Dick, a part of him that both smiles and cries when he sees Bruce interact with his siblings, wishes he could overpower that strength.
"You have to leave it alone. We don't talk about it."
" But we should."
" That's now who I am, chum. Tati's sorry."
So Dick does. What a good little bird he is.
But Bruce's secrets weren't dormat and docile and obedient. They'll come out of someone's mouth if not from his. Dick just didn't expect it to happen like THAT,
Oliver and his dad always had the most curious relationship. It heavily reminded Dick of Jason and Tim, in some ways.
They liked having Oliver around. Uncle Ollie was saucy and witty and railed Bruce up considerably. It was the perfect moment to be a fly on the wall, studious and smirking,
"You're the most unstable Individual I've ever encountered. And I have lunch with Harley on Fridays."
" 1) Rude for not Inviting me. 2) I'm not the one who tried to kill himself at 8."
Pin drop.
Jason's voice hasn't been so small since he was a kid, " ...What?"
Oliver, entirely unaffected by dropping this hard of a bombshell, sips his tea, " Yeah, why do you think your old man stays away from Robinson Bridge?"
A suffocating hush falls over them. Bruce gently puts Damian down, promising they'll finger paint later, and walks away with eyes downcast.
Oliver blinks, looking at a face palming Roy, "Uh...This is the part where you laugh?"
But looking around their frozen grimaces puts understanding in him. " ...Yeah, never let me improv again."
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