Dick

Dick was sitting on a rooftop, binoculars in hand as he used them to peer through the window of your small, shitty apartment. He'd been doing this for weeks now - ever since he found out you were Red Hood, and where your apartment was. He'd sit there and watch as you got ready for bed, just to keep an eye on you, in that shitty building. He didn't mean it to be creepy, he really didn't, he only realized a week in what he must look like. Sitting there with binoculars staring into a window. A total creep. But he just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

And tonight... Well, he noticed something new once you were getting into bed. You'd stripped down to boxers like usual, but then you reached for the base of one of the rods on your cheap ass bedframe. For a moment he thought you were just adjusting it because that bed had to absolutely suck, it was so low quality. But then he realized that you had pulled up a metal ring that glinted in the low light - a pair of handcuffs, one cuffed to the bed.

He watched in growing horror as you fastened one wrist into the open side and laid down, even though you were alone. Pulling your blanket up one-handed like it was the most natural thing, clearly used to doing this. There was no one else who stayed in that apartment, and you were a good fighter, and neither made sense here anyway. Why would you cuff yourself while asleep?

He lowered the binoculars, eyes looking over the building, still settled on your window. His arms hung over the ledge of the rooftop he was hanging out on. He leaned on the half-wall heavily. "Oh, little wing... What have you been through?"

Dick was back in Gotham for the first time in a few years, having finally made up with Bruce after their big fight. It was a quiet night but he decided to give his dad some help with the patrol and reacquaint himself with the city, given how often it changed. He lived in Bludhaven most of the time now and usually did his patrols there, but since he and Bruce made up, he'd been visiting more often. Bludhaven was as bad, if not worse, as Gotham, but he figured it was fine for a few nights especially since he called his friends to keep an eye out.

Suddenly, he bumped rather harshly into a man he hadn't seen coming - shockingly, considering how tall the guy was. Seriously, how had he missed this man who was about the same height as Bruce, and built to match?! He looked dangerous too, the way his gaze shone out from under that hood was pure anger. But fuck, somehow he was still handsome, in a way Dick was entirely unprepared to handle. This guy had the most striking green eyes, and for some reason he felt weirdly familiar, even though Dick couldn't place him.

"Sorry!" Dick said, holding his hands up in a show of peace, instinctively trying to settle the man who was clearly on guard. "Didn't see ya coming there. Must've gotten a little rusty on my situational awareness, I'll have to work on that. You alright?"

Dick's safehouses were supposed to be, well, safehouses. They were few and far in between, especially in Gotham, for him alone. Well, him and whoever he brought to them - but the point is, they were meant to be private, with only him knowing the location of every one. So when he heard a rather loud knock at the door, he was startled enough to shake him out of the exhaustion he'd felt - who the hell was at his door?! No one should know he was here, let alone where this specific safehouse was in the first place - he'd literally never brought anyone to this one before.

He pulled on some sweatpants to be somewhat decent, given he'd been lounging in his boxers because he'd just finished patching himself up. "Coming!" he called as he tugged a hoodie over his head, making his way to the door like this was a regular place of residence and not a vigilante hideout. He got to the door and pulled it open with a mildly miffed expression. "Who is it? How'd you even get here?"

The room was dark, but it was perfect, Dick thought, as he sat there, waiting for you to wake. He'd spent so long studying your likes and dislikes, learning what was still true and what had changed since he last saw you. And now you were home, in a room he was certain you would love, nothing to hurt you anymore. No more being Red Hood, no more fighting, no more cold and lonely nights in that stupid apartment.

It was a large room - one with an attached bathroom - ornately decorated, hidden away in his home. Not in the Manor, but in his apartment in Bludhaven. The bed was large with silken sheets, he'd stocked the dresser with appropriate clothes, there was even a reading corner. He'd gotten all of your old books back and moved them here, along with your posters and any blankets you liked, like the one you were wrapped in currently. The floor was covered in thick red carpet to keep you from hurting your feet, there was a TV with all the softest furniture. Everything to keep you safe.

The bathroom was equally ornate, with a large Jacuzzi tub - you didn't have to worry, he'd never make you clean it. There were small rugs to stand on so you wouldn't drip everywhere, not that he minded if you did. They were mostly there so you wouldn't slip and fall. The room had your favorite shower gels and shampoo and conditioner, and the softest towels money could buy hung on a heated rack. There was nowhere better suited for you, no place where you would be happier than this slice of heaven he had made for you.

But that wasn't even the best part - the best part was the control, the safety. There were straps on the bed to keep you from fighting, soft fur and padding of course to keep them from hurting you, but they would secure you regardless. Every sharp corner had been made round so that you would be safe, with no way to hurt yourself in his little paradise. The door locked only from the outside, you had no control over whether you could leave or not. Of course, he wouldn't lock you in all the time, he wanted to spend lots of time with you, but you wouldn't be able to run from him.

"Here we go, home sweet home," Dick murmured, adjusting the last few touches as he smiled down at your sleeping face. He brushed the hair out of your face, tightening the strap around your head just slightly. He didn't need to use any locks here, you couldn't work the fastenings with those mittens over your hands anyway. Oh, his precious baby brother was just so cute like this, wrapped up safe and sound and snug where he could watch over you.

The room itself was large - well, technically it was three rooms, with an attached bathroom and playroom. The main room, the bedroom, had a small kitchenette in the corner, with the bed - rather, crib, in the opposite corner. The crib was big enough for two, filled with blankets and pillows and stuffed animals and dolls, with a mobile hanging down above. The rocking chair and book shelf next to the bed called to bedtime stories, and the dresser was stocked with appropriate clothes for his baby.

The bathroom had a Jacuzzi tub - not that he'd ever make you clean it, or even let you bathe on your own, you were too little for that. It was stocked with your favorite body washes and shampoo and conditioner, and the softest, cutest towels money could buy hung on a heated rack. Soft rugs made sure you wouldn't slip getting out, and a large bin of bath toys waited for you when you wanted to play, and plenty of luxurious bath robes. And of course, there was a changing table stocked with obscenely thick diapers for when his precious baby brother needed a change.

The playroom itself had multiple areas, decorated for multiple kids to have fun, so you could have playdates. There was a drawing table, a reading corner with plenty of beanbags and soft chairs and tall bookshelves, and an area full of sleeping bags and pillows and blankets and indoor tents for sleepovers. There was a playpen and a chest full of toys, and a little nap area, and a table for eating food during the day. And of course, everything in each room was baby proofed so you wouldn't hurt yourself or damage things on accident.

And then there was you. He'd dressed you in one of those beautiful, Nightwing-branded poofy diapers, put a pacifier in your mouth and strapped it in. A Wonder Woman onesie covered your delicate skin, your hands and feet covered by mittens and booties fastened tightly shut. He loved you so much, he'd do anything to keep you safe like this, warm and soft and sweet where there was nothing wrong ever. He sat down in the rocking chair next to the bed, watching over you and waiting for you to wake up. Nothing would ever hurt you again.