Chapter Text
Peter had told Dick about his powers in passing—going into detail at a later date and explaining how he had been bitten by an experimental spider during a field trip to Oscorp—his universe version of LexCorp, but between the fact that he was struggling with the Lazarus pit effects and he actually had a kid—who was a teenager but still his kid no less—and insisted that he was an adult, that Spider-Man didn’t need a babysitter, he had all but forgotten about the fact that the kid had behaviours like a spider. Which were added to the ever growing list of his son’s endearing but anxiety and heart attack filled qualities.
The first adorable quality Dick had noticed was that his kid was simply adorable. He looked like a mini him but instead of being the handsome kid and playboy at fourteen with all the girls in his class having a crush on him—which again was why it was so unsurprising when Babs had called him telling him he had a son who could be about half his age or so. Peter was cute instead, he had fluffy black curls, baby fat that clinged to his cheek—and made him look like he was in his tweens instead of teens—and doe eyes to match his cheeks and sweet polite attitude.
Obviously that had been the first thing he had observed when he met the kid in the alley but it came to heads in a many ways, especially when Dick would sit and think of all the horrid things Peter had gone through or someone who was so young and looked younger. The kid looked ten for god’s sake—eight if you were to asked grandma down the apartment hall near the stair well—and he was short. He was just under 4 and half feet. Apparently he had a grow-spurt after the bite but with the fact that the kid had come into this universe with his powers already within him and still being thirteen. Dick didn’t see him hitting a grow spurt anytime soon. Which had annoyed Peter, even more so when Dick had brought a booster seat after a missed call with a truck and its trailer that had almost smacked into the side of his bumper if it wasn’t for Peter yelling to him to ‘BRAKE!’ Mere seconds before the collision.
He couldn’t be blamed on it, especially when he realised how loosed and redundant the seat belt was for Peter when it had snapped onto his cheek from the brut force of the stop, doing the harm instead of preventing it.The whiplash had caused a small nasty bruise and laceration that hadn’t stayed longer than two days but still gave Dick a feeling of panic, worry, and guilt. Even with Peter’s reassurance Dick couldn’t help himself. Not when he had been scolded by a coworker from station for not having had a booster seat in his car after retelling the story and showing them a picture of Peter for reference—a photo he had on his wallet after a week of getting the kid— which they had assumed he was younger.
The seat had led into a disagreement—from the annoyance, anger and embarrassment of all of it—which had escalated into disagreement, a fight, and then a tantrum from Peter who had the influence from the Lazarus pit. It caused his apartment door being slammed and broken off the hinges and a sob from Peter after he had broken it. Dick had obviously been more worried about his son than a stupid door but peter had felt guilty over the door and frustrated from both the seat and his lack of control over his emotions (but if you were to ask Dick, he would praise peter on his fully control of being about to not only stop himself from committing violence but would vocalise his need even when his eyes were glowing bright green) and ended up crying on Dick’s shoulder, mumbling apologies while Dick whispered reassuring word into his ear. After that, the night ended with an agreement that Peter wouldn’t use the seat unless they were going somewhere far away, so that it would calm Dick’s nerves during those long drives. During normal and quick drives Peter would have sit in the back middle seat where Dick could get a good view of him—the seat being the only one with just one strap going across his lap which meant the incident wouldn’t happen again—But it did mean that Peter would have to use his powers to stick to the car seat just in case.
Dick knew he was being overprotective, he knew it. But with the image of the bruise permanently stuck inside his mind he couldn’t help himself. Even if he knew it meant dealing with an upset and quiet Peter for the rest of the ride to Gotham and its nightmare fuelled traffic. But his nerves wouldn’t calm down—the fact was the kid had already gone through too much, for god’s sake his son had bathed in the Lazarus pit and Dick hadn’t been able to protect him! So sue him and his nerves for making or at least trying to get Peter to use the seat. Especially on Sunday nights when they would drive from the apartment in Bludhaven to the manor and back for family dinner.
In honesty Dick should’ve expected something from his chaotic adorable web-head of a son when he hadn’t thrown a fit the other Sunday night as they drove back home. Dick had thought Peter had just tired himself out from playing with his uncles to argue, which in his defence the kid did end up falling sleep halfway through the drive—Dick had taken a lot of pictures of the scenes before carrying the kid to his bed.
But now he stood in the entrance of his apartment looking at his kid, who clearly had no idea that Dick was coming home early and much less clue that he had entered the house.
“Kid?” Dick mumbled in confusion with a tilted head as he see Peter who had crawled up the wall of their closet that sat in the halfway, and was trying to shove what seem like a car seat shaped item into the darkest and farthest upper corner of the closet.
“Dad! Hi!” Peter said surprised as he tries but fail to stick the item onto the roof of the closet when he realises that he doesn’t have his web shooters on. Instead he drops down which also gives Dick a heart attack from the three feet drop—he can hear Bruce mumble “karma”—Peter slams the door shut. Taking off his ear bud, that had muffled the sound of his father’s foot steps, and turning to face his father with an innocent smile and small hand wave.
“Hi kiddo” Dick said as he walks over to his kid, ruffling the kids hair. His other hand opening the door to peak inside and confirm his suspension, once’s it’s quickly confirmed, he shut the door and knees down to look at Peter.
“Anything you wanna tell me?”
“I don’t need it” Peter snarks, the kid being on the defensive, he's ready for an argument that has become almost constant to their daily lives for over the last few weeks. It’s upsetting his kid.
Dick hums in acknowledgment because he knows it, he knows, but was he being a bad parent by standing his ground with the car seat? Or more accurately by standing with his nerves and worried? He was being protective but was it too much? It was upsetting his kid and—
Dick sighs and shakes his head, deciding to push the worries and thoughts away. Instead he looks at his kid and gives him an amused smile.
“So which one of your uncles gave you the idea?” Because that just seemed to make the most sense.
“Damian hid Tim’s coffee after they got into a fight, grandpa had to step in when they started to get physical” Peter said, obviously taking inspiration from Dick’s siblings from last night. Dick laughs, amused, he ruffles his hair again making sure to tuck the front fluffs of hair out and behind his ears—Peter hates having the hair in front as it pokes his eyes from how long it’s gotten.
“Your uncles fight a lot, huh?” Dick said teasingly, knowing well that Peter like watch the two bicker like a cat and dog. Peter laughs in response as he pushes his dad’s hand away from his hair.
“…how about a movie night? You can get your blankets—we both know you run cold, don’t argue about it—we can watch Star Wars okay?” Dick said standing up and leading Peter to his room to collect his blankets before he can question Dick’s decision.
Because Dick was thinking that maybe the car seat could stay inside the closet for a while longer, maybe it could become a distant memory that would jumble into the memory of the close call and ‘what ifs’ that plague his mind.
He wanted his kid to be safe and happy, but then again there wasn’t much safety in having a family full of vigilantes and heroes. His son was happy and safe right now, that was all that mattered