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Dropping the weight on the ground, Bruce grabbed a white towel from the bench and wiped the sweat from his neck and forehead. An hour ago, Alfred had insisted that his evening workout take place outdoors, as the dampness and mustiness of the cave had a detrimental effect on the lungs. So Bruce went out into the backyard to use the outdoor set of exercise equipment.
Alfred wandered around, trimming the green bushes with garden shears and pulling a few weeds from the flower beds. The surroundings were quite quiet, peaceful and fresh. And Bruce, in fact, would not mind going outside more often to exercise not only in a dark cave.
Although this calmness was caused not so much by the fact that they were in the garden, but by the unusual absence of Dick.
In the morning, the boy persuaded Bruce to let him go for a walk with friends after school. He, Wally West, and Roy Harper were going to the movies, then to the café, and then to the park. They agreed that Dick would return home by seven o'clock in the evening, do his homework, and only then begin to prepare for the patrol. Usually, Dick didn't break the rules that dad and Alfred had set for him. But lately, he's been seeing his new friends too often and coming home late for curfew.
Bruce had already warned him that constant disobedience would lead Dick to discipline lessons. And the boy corrected himself for a brief moment, returning home on time and doing all his homework.
But today, something seems to have gone wrong again.
“Alfred,” Bruce called after taking a few sips of cool water. “Call Dick and get his location. I'm going to pick him up and talk to his new friends.”
Alfred put down the clippers and sighed as he pulled his phone from the front pocket of his apron. Bruce knew that Alfred did not like the idea of such a meeting, as it would confuse all the children. But Bruce is tired of the fact that Dick does not listen to him and does not even call to warn dad about being late.
And this act of disobedience must end today.
“I'm afraid to disappoint you, sir,” the butler said with restraint, stopping next to the man. “But young master Richard's phone is unavailable.”
Bruce frowned, grabbing a towel and heading into the cave to check on Dick's location. It was now a little over seven o'clock in the evening, and it was almost dark outside. And the thought of a thirteen-year-old teenager wandering the streets of Gotham alone made Bruce start to worry and get angry.
Breaking into the batcave, Bruce sat down at his computer and opened a program through which he could trace his son's phone. His jaw almost dropped when the information that Dick had been in Gotham Harbor for half a day surfaced on the screen.
Why did he even go there?
But the answer to this question hit Bruce in the head very quickly.
Since Bruce, Oliver and Barry are now members of the Justice League, Dick and his friends also wanted more independence. These boys have been hinting to their guardians for months that they want to create their own superhero team.
But more independence meant more danger.
Bruce could not accept this offer, because he was too worried about his ward. He was much calmer when Dick was next to Batman, so that at any moment he could protect the kid from danger.
Bruce didn't say it out loud, but the thought of losing his son made all of his body hair stand on end.
And despite all the warnings that Bruce expressed to Dick about not starting solo flights, the boy still seems to use his abilities outside of working hours.
Those caves that were in the harbor were probably perfect for the kids to hide out and come up with plans to fool their guardians. And Bruce be damned if he would let Dick and the rest of the kids risk their lives for even a second without experienced people around.
“Do you have any suggestions about what the young master has been doing all day?” Alfred asked, placing a cup of hot tea in front of Bruce.
Pressing a few buttons to keep track of the kid's now-deactivated phone, Bruce took a deep breath and clenched his fists, praying for the boy to be close to home.
“I have an idea,” the man growled, his eyes following the red line that stretched from the harbor to the bus stop and then to the manor. “And if that's really what I think, then Dick will be a very, very sorry boy by the end of the day.”
“Where is he now?” The butler took the empty tray and pushed the tea closer to Bruce.
Glancing at the dot that was slowly moving from the bus stop towards the manor, Bruce cleared his throat and abruptly stood up.
“Almost here,” he replied, heading for the shower to wash off the sweat and anxiety that tingled uncomfortably under his skin.
Fifteen minutes later, Bruce was waiting for Dick in the living room, listening to the soothing crackle of the fireplace. Although at the moment this grinding sound was more annoying than relaxing. But, in any case, it helped Bruce swim out of the fog of anger that boiled in his blood at the thought that Dick was so irresponsible to his instructions.
And speaking of Dick... This alive and unharmed kid gleefully ran into the living room and dropped his backpack next to the couch where Bruce was reading the Gotham paper. His body fell into the empty space to his dad's right, and Bruce took another deep breath, calming another wave of irritation.
Was Dick going to be honest with him at all?
“Hi, dad,” the kid chirped, leaning sideways against the back of the sofa. “How was your day?”
Bruce shook the paper, then closed it and set it on the table. His penetrating gaze shifted to Dick, causing the child to frown slightly and squirm.
“Do you know what time it is?” Bruce asked sternly, ignoring for the moment how Dick's smile was getting smaller.
“The time when we should start preparing for patrol?” the kid asked innocently, rubbing his knees with his palms.
Bruce shook his head disapprovingly.
“It's almost eight o'clock, Dick,” Bruce continued to scold. “You should have been home an hour ago, or at least called me or Alfred to let me know you're late.”
Dick bit his bottom lip guiltily and looked down at his crossed legs.
“Sorry, dad,” the boy spoke as softly and sincerely as possible. “We were hanging out with Wally and Roy and didn't realize it was already this late.”
“Why is your phone off?”
“Um ...” Dick looked at the backpack and his face paled slightly. “It... Sorry, it's broken.”
Bruce arched an eyebrow, turning almost completely to face his son.
“What's happened?”
Dick's eyes began to dart around the room as the answer formed in his head. His shoulders slumped a little, and his hands continued to nervously clench his knees. Bruce was well aware of these signs that revealed the lies that the kid was hiding. Dick was bad at lying to dad, which was both a blessing and a curse for both of them.
“We were just fooling around in the park,” Dick explained, spreading his arms. “And the phone fell out of my pocket, and then I accidentally stepped on it.”
“Very interesting,” Bruce grunted, crossing his arms and giving Dick a skeptical look. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that you were in Gotham harbor today?”
There was nothing pleasant in watching all the color come off Dick's face. However, Bruce wasn't about to beat around the bush, waiting for Dick's conscience to push him into a confession. Because now the kid taken by surprise, simply had no other choice but to cooperate.
“You... How did you know about it?” Dick asked weakly, but Bruce just kept looking at him, looking angry and disappointed.
There was no point in answering the question Dick had asked just to buy time. They both knew very well that the boy's secret would sooner or later come to the surface. There was only one question left: was Dick going to accept the consequences for his lies, or was he planning to start arguing.
“I want the truth, Dick,” Bruce said coldly, not even thinking of softening. “And trust me, you won't like the consequences if even one more false word comes out of your mouth.”
From the joyful and happy mood of Dick now there is not a trace left. He was full of anxiety and confusion, but at the same time he did not look belligerent, which excluded the possibility of entering into an argument.
It was a relief, because almost all disputes between Dick and Bruce ended in scandal and tears. This conversation wasn't going to be an exception either, as Bruce would never let his son get away with such behavior. But now the choice was up to Dick: go the easy way or start to complicate things.
Licking his lips and closing his frightened eyes for a second, Dick gathered his strength and calmly admitted:
“You're right, it's connected,” his voice now expressed guilt and resignation.
And it even seemed to Bruce that Dick relaxed a little when he realized that dad knew about his secret affairs.
“The guys and I found a place, or rather a cave in the harbor, where we now spend our free time.”
“How long has this been happening?” Bruce clarified, although he guessed that this had started from the moment when Dick was late for the first time.
“A little over a week, I guess,” he said softly, tucking his overgrown bangs behind his ear. “I'm sorry I didn't say earlier.”
“Are you sorry?” Dad asked, snorting unhappily. “I would have believed you were sorry if you had told me about that cave right after you found it. But now, after a whole week of lying, I'm afraid I won't be able to trust you again so quickly, son.”
“But I...” Dick shuddered and fell silent, breathing rapidly through his parted mouth.
His face, still pale as chamomile petals, contorted in resentment and confusion.
“What did you do in this cave?” Bruce demanded, ignoring the crisis on Dick's youthful face.
Turning his head to the side and keeping his eyes on the warm fireplace, Dick sighed convulsively and fidgeted on the sofa.
“Nothing special,” the boy said dryly. “We were setting up the cave, and today we were chasing Jinx when we caught her stealing.”
Bruce clenched his jaw as he remembered his notes about this girl who wielded dark magic.
“But I didn't get hurt,” Dick added quickly, looking anxiously at his dad. “Honestly.”
Bruce believed this because there were no visible scratches on Dick, and he did not limp when he ran into the living room. But this did not justify the fact that dad had no idea where his son was and what he was doing. Anything could have happened and Bruce wouldn't have been able to get there in time to help him.
“You were chasing Jinx without a mask and a belt?” Bruce asked, rubbing his forehead with his palm and leaning forward a little to rest his elbows on his knees.
“I...” Dick swallowed, looking at his dad with wide eyes. “I took one of the old suits that Alfred kept in the attic.”
“Those suits weren't fit for patrol, Richard,” Bruce grumbled, fixing Dick with a stern look.
He honestly thought Dick knew better. But each of his uttered words only plunged dad more into shock. Therefore, he was even delighted when, instead of answering, the boy bit his lip, saving dad from another microstroke.
“You have no idea how disappointed I am right now, Dick,” Bruce concluded, turning away from the child to calm his nervousness a little.
But he managed to capture how Dick desperately lowered his eyes to the floor and straightened up on the sofa. His hands clung tightly to the soft pillows on which he sat, and his legs twitched nervously, filling the room with a slight rustling.
Bruce could understand Dick's desire for independence, but he couldn't accept it if the boy was going to deserve it by lying and running away. He hadn't taught him that behavior, and that's why Bruce was now seriously angry at Dick's choice of actions.
“Dad, I'm terribly sorry,” Dick said stifledly, getting up silently from the couch and approaching Bruce with his head bowed. “I wasn't... going to hide all the time. I just...” the kid sighed, throwing a quick glance at dad. “I didn't know how to tell you about it.”
Bruce nodded in understanding, looking at the boy with narrowed eyes for a while. It was always difficult to admit to something like that, especially when the child already knew that he was forbidden to go on patrols alone. And while Dad didn't mind Dick being friends with the Justice League's wards, the prospect of their nascent team still raised a lot of doubt.
When Robin was on patrol with Batman, he was always visible and protected. And letting Dick go alone meant only one thing for Bruce: endless concern for his life and health. Dad absolutely did not want to risk it just so that the children could prove something to their parents.
After a couple of seconds of silence, Bruce noticed how Dick's eyes began to slowly fill with tears. So, he placed his hand on the child's forearm and stroked it lightly, letting him know that he was still around.
“Please don't hate me.” Dick's voice was broken and trembling, which could not be hidden from Bruce. “I…I will accept my punishment. Please. Just don't take Robin away from me.”
Bruce sighed sympathetically, brushing the first tear off Dick's cheek with his thumb.
“I could never hate you, Dicky,” Bruce assured him a little softer, placing his hand on his son's shoulder again.
How could the boy even think about it? Bruce, of course, was a strict and demanding parent, but he always tried to make it clear to Dick that he was doing this only because he loved and cared for him. And all his rules were set solely to ensure that the boy was safe.
“You know I love you and care about you,” Bruce added calmly but in a parental tone. “But the fact that you ran away from me on missions with your friends tells me that I didn't discipline you well enough.”
“Dad, I'm fine,” Dick said, looking at the man in awe. “I just... I just knew you'd say not if I asked again and...”
“And you lied to me,” Bruce finished grimly. “I thought I had already conveyed to you the importance of following the rules when it comes to our work. But you deliberately violated them and slipped away from me on a solo patrol with your friends. What if something happened to you? How would me or Barry or Oliver know about this, hm?”
Dick's pale face was finally beginning to return to its usual light olive tone. He clasped his hands behind his back and swayed on his toes, meeting his dad's gaze with some difficulty.
“We're all well trained,” said Dick thoughtfully, trying to be confident. “Nothing would happen to us.”
“You can't know that for sure,” Bruce snapped indignantly. “In your suits, you become a target for all the criminals of Gotham. Anyone could be there to harm you or kidnap you.”
Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his voice, not wanting to raise it too much.
“That's why I always have a few spare gadgets with which I can contact you or Alfred,” Bruce continued to scold, now having every reason to be a strict and angry guardian. “Do you have any idea how devastated we would feel if you or your friends were hurt or killed?”
Dick nodded miserably, without interrupting or arguing. And Bruce knew perfectly well that they both knew what it was like to lose loved ones. Therefore, he was doubly disappointed by the not farsightedness of such a smart guy.
“I had something from our arsenal,” Dick admitted quietly, squeezing his left forearm with his right hand. “You have to believe that we can manage on our own.”
“That may be so, but that has nothing to do with this, Dick,” Dad said firmly, stroking his damp hair back. “We already had this conversation, and I told you no. You ignored me, determined to prove something by going behind my back. And it lets me know that I made the right choice. If you're so careless about my orders, I'm afraid I can't trust you to create your own team.”
Dick looked at his dad indignantly and opened his mouth, choosing his words.
“How long were you going to use that cave?” Bruce asked, ignoring the tense situation. “What did you expect?”
Dick didn't answer right away. For a while he stood silent and motionless, looking haunted and broken. Bruce was patient with this kind of dialogue. A conscious answer was always more acceptable than those words that flew out in a fit of anger and irritation.
“I…I really tried to tell you,” Dick spoke slowly and with pauses, fiddling with the sleeves of his school shirt. “But I couldn't, because I wanted to stay with my friends. I ... I was afraid that then you would completely forbid us to see each other.”
Bruce didn't interrupt, giving Dick a chance to make his point. Although his heart sank painfully at the thought that Dick was afraid to tell him something.
“I was late home on purpose so that you...” Dick waved his hands uncertainly and was embarrassed. “So that you could find me and find out about the cave.”
Bruce snorted, frowning slightly.
“Please forgive me, dad,” Dick pleaded, shifting again in place. “I just don't want to lose my friends who I can spend time with like Robin.”
Bruce sighed, closing his eyes and resting his fingertips against his eyelids. He felt a growing migraine, but all this pain paled in comparison with the one he experienced for Dick's condition. Bruce didn't want to rob Dick of the few friends he could spend time with as a vigilante, but he also couldn't let him be so reckless.
Perhaps he really should reconsider his categorical decision.
But this is only after Dick pays for his misdeed.
“I heard you, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up and moving to the edge of the sofa. “I’m sorry you were afraid to talk to me about it again. But, nevertheless, you know that what you did was unacceptable.”
Dick licked his lips and nodded slowly. Bruce noticed how his shoulders hunched in defeat and his face hung in a guilty manner.
“I know,” the boy whispered, his voice slightly cracked. “And I want to fix it.”
Bruce nodded approvingly, proud that Dick hadn't run from the consequences.
“Okay,” Bruce rumbled, still glaring hard at the kid. “You know how it works.”
Dick blushed even more, coloring his cheeks deep pink as he took a few hesitant steps closer to his dad. After a slight hesitation, he unbuttoned his school jeans and slowly pulled them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. After that, Bruce extended his hand to him and helped him lie over his knees. For Dick, this was nothing new, so he immediately shifted so that his father's hard hips did not hurt his ribs.
As the boy's upper body rested on the couch, his arms wrapped around the brown pillow, Bruce slapped him sharply and without warning on the pale olive cheeks. Dick jerked forward and gasped, more in surprise than pain.
As Bruce grimly watched the pink print of a large palm bloom on his son's bottom, he asked:
“Now repeat to me the reason why you deserved this spanking, son.”
Dick whimpered softly, clutching the pillow and tensing his body.
“Because I lied to you and…” Dick began, but Bruce interrupted him with three hard smacks on the buttocks.
“That's enough for now,” he said, letting his heavy hand slap the bottom of Dick's buttocks five more times in a row.
Dick tried to keep quiet, but his slight shudders and muscle tension let Bruce know that the lesson was being imprinted.
“Should I start another lecture on trust, Richard?”
Two more slaps joined the dad's handprints, causing Dick to lightly kick the air with his feet.
“No, dad,” the boy said with restraint, but with sadness. “I know what I did was stupid. But I couldn't...”
Bruce grunted, pulling Dick's body tighter against his stomach and smacking the boy's pink buttocks with four more strokes. Bruce wasn't being gentle. His spanks were hard and heavy, covering his skin fairly quickly in a constant layer of heat and pulsation.
“Advice for the future,” Bruce said, giving Dick a second to catch his breath. “If you would tell me right away where you really go with your friends, then you wouldn’t have to lie over my lap and cry because of your stupidity.”
Dick nodded quickly, pressing the pillow to his face and breathing rapidly.
“I'm sorry,” Dick squeaked as Bruce resumed his attack on his lower buttocks. “I didn't mean to lie.”
Bruce actually believed Dick. The boy rarely deceived his father, usually trying to be an obedient and correct child. Things like today's incident had only happened a few times, and later Dick always accepted the consequences for his wrong choices. Therefore, Bruce had no doubt that this time Dick was also sincere in his apology. After all, he was still a child. And making mistakes was part of growing up.
After spanking his squirming butt with a dozen more sharp smacks, Bruce stopped and slightly raised his right knee to start punishing the most vulnerable spot.
“What is the second reason?” Bruce demanded, noticing small crystals of tears forming in the corner of Dick's eye.
Dick shifted, tensing his body again, and took a deep breath.
“I took my old suit and went on patrol without permission,” the boy wheezed, still trying to maintain his confidence.
It was commendable, but they both knew that by the middle of the punishment, holding back their emotions would no longer work.
“That's right,” Bruce nodded, returning with harsh spanks on the seats.
Dick's pained mooing was muffled by the soft pillow. And Bruce didn't mind that until the boy hurt himself by biting his lips or his hands to keep from screaming.
“Ow!” squealed Dick, wiggling his backside as dad's pitiless hand smacked his left curve with six quick slaps.
“You knew you weren't allowed to go out alone in a suit,” Bruce scolded, placing six more slaps on his son's right curve. “But you still disobeyed me.”
“Aw! Hurts!” Dick's squeal grew more and more with each subsequent resounding slap in the face. “I won't do it again!”
Bruce alternated his seating spots with sharp, quick spanks that dyed the skin the same deep pink as his buttocks.
“It will hurt until you learn to obey,” Bruce grumbled firmly, not slowing down the pace of the harsh spanking. “Give me a third reason for your punishment, Richard.”
Bruce stopped spanking again, allowing Dick to relax and breathe for a moment. When he looked at his face, which lay on the pillow, thick tears were already rolling down it, wetting his cheeks, nose and hair. The boy's nose let out a snotty, quick sob that kept him from crying out loud.
“I wasn't s-safe,” Dick whined, wiping his tears with his fist.
“I had no idea where you were all week, Dick,” Dad scolded, examining the spanked skin. “I couldn't even worry about you properly because I thought you were just hanging out with your friends.”
“I'm sorry,” Dick cried, turning his neck slightly to give Dad his puppy, tear-stained look. “I didn't mean to worry you.”
Bruce shook his head, feeling annoyed and sympathetic. He lowered his knee, laying Dick in a more horizontal position, and again began to spank his warm and restless bottom. His hand landed on the previously spanked spots on his buttocks, covering them in a now red layer of deep pain. Dick began to writhe and squeal after every second slap. His legs jerked and swung up, tangled in his jeans.
“Oh! Dad, it hurts too much,” the boy cried, clutching the pillow even tighter so as not to swing his arms. “I'm so, so sorry. Please, no more.”
“You don't have a say in how and how long I'm going to punish you,” Bruce said with steel in his voice, though he eased the subsequent spanks a little.
His hand moved down to the seats to make them as red as the buttocks.
“I don't want to repeat this conversation again, son,” Bruce continued the lecture, hating those moments when he caused Dick to cry. “Your safety is the most important thing to me. Don't risk it again without a good reason.”
“Ouch! OW!” Dick twitched his whole body, uttering a piercing cry, turning into a hoarse cry, after one strong spank on the curve. “Please forgive me, dad!”
Bruce made sure that Dick's buttocks and seats were a uniform, angry red, and completed the spanking. Dick was sobbing, buried in the pillow and shaking all over. His jeans and underwear fell to his ankles, and Bruce reached down to remove the rough fabric. When the sneakers and jeans were dropped to the floor, Dad carefully pulled Dick's boxers back into place, then placed a hand on the top of his head and gently stroked his tangled hair.
“It's all right, chum,” Bruce said more gently, giving Dick a chance to cry. “Now you are forgiven. Take a deep breath.”
Dick hiccupped and wailed, trying to take deep breaths to calm his tantrum as Bruce ran soothing circles on his back. He got over it after a few minutes, quieting down but still sniffling through his stuffy nose.
“I thought that if you saw how we cope alone, you would change your mind,” the kid said humbly and plaintively, wiping his wet face with the sleeve of a long shirt. “But, as always, I made it worse…” he added more quietly, in a trembling voice.
“Dick,” Bruce began to say tiredly and faintly, squeezing and unclenching his hot palm. “I'm not letting you creat your own team, not because you're an incompetent or weak guy, but because you're still a child. I watch over you and keep you safe whether you like it or not.”
“I love working with you, dad,” Dick said with a slight hiccup, still over his dad's lap. “But I can also be safe with my friends in our own cave.”
Bruce sighed, marveling at Dick's persistence even with a sore bottom.
“Just give us one chance,” said Dick, trembling slightly from fatigue and awkward position. “I promise we'll be fine.”
Dad glanced at the regretful, tearful, but still confident boy, and clenched his jaw as he considered the proposal. He could discuss this with Oliver and Barry at the meeting tomorrow at the Justice League headquarters. And if they make a positive decision, then Bruce could install his equipment in the children's cave for work. He would also provide them with gadgets and spare tracking devices so he always knew where they were.
If that was indeed what Dick wanted, then Bruce was willing to take the risk. Alfred also hinted to him that until they resolve this conflict, their quarrels will continue. And dad didn't want Dick to risk his life again, sneaking behind Batman's back. And he absolutely did not like being the cause of pain and tears for his son.
“Fine,” Bruce sighed, hoping he wouldn't regret his decision. “I will present this question for discussion at tomorrow's meeting. But until an official decision is made, you will not visit the cave and act on your own. It's clear?”
Dick opened his mouth comically, probably expecting to have to argue. But Bruce's answer left him shocked and disbelieved.
Bruce suddenly wanted to smile at his son, who looked like a fish in an aquarium.
“Wait,” hissed Dick, resting his palms on the couch to raise himself. “Are you serious now?”
Bruce grabbed Dick by the armpits and sat him on his hip, maneuvering so that his red bottom did not touch any surfaces. Dick squealed in surprise, but still clutched his dad's T-shirt when he was upright.
“I'm serious,” Bruce assured firmly, wiping the last of the tears from the child's cheeks with his palm. “Did you hear what I said about the cave?”
Dick's lips twitched in a happy but still suspicious smirk.
“Um… yes,” he nodded, tilting his head in embarrassment and touching his hot skin with his palm. “I won’t go into the cave, I promise.”
“Okay,” Bruce grunted. “Because if that happens, you can be sure that today's punishment will seem like a friendly pat to you,” dad added, gently slapping Dick on the backside.
“Oh!” the boy was indignant and jumped up, frowning at the man. “But do you promise you've forgiven me for everything I've done?”
“I promise, chum,” Bruce assured him lovingly, hugging Dick tightly to his chest and kissing his tousled hair. “And I promise that I will continue to take care of you even if you create your own team. Trust me.”
Dick leaned against the contact and relaxed into his father's gentle grip.
“You don’t mean that you will continue to punish me like this even when I become the leader of the team?” the kid asked uncertainly, scratching his spanked butt again.
“That's exactly what I mean, Dick,” Bruce confirmed firmly, actually making a promise.
“Oh, no-o-o,” Dick sighed desperately, resting his forehead on his father's shoulder. “I'm almost fourteen. I'm getting too old for... for this childish punishment.”
“Really?” Dad asked with a touch of irony. “You still cry during the spanking the same way you did when you were nine years old,” Bruce reminded him, hugging his son’s sleeping body tighter. “So, it's not so childish, is it?”
“But you can't spank me forever,” Dick grumbled, blowing hot breath around Bruce's neck. “One day you'll admit I've grown up anyway.”
“I can admit that you've grown up, but that doesn't mean you don't need a steady hand, son,” Bruce muttered monotonously, running his hand over his son's forearm. “As long as you ask for it and learn useful lessons from your punishments, I will be there to teach you.”
Dick sighed dramatically, resting his head on his father's shoulder and resigning himself to defeat in this battle. Bruce kissed his son once more on the forehead and smoothed his hair back behind his ear. After the punishments, dad did not allow Dick to go on patrol, so that he would not aggravate the pain in his back, and once again thought about his behavior. So, he sat with the kid in his arms for another thirty minutes, swaying gently and stroking his back to put him to sleep.
Maybe tomorrow, he really will have to admit that Dick is growing up. But today, dad could still enjoy the pleasant weight that sat on his lap and fell asleep surrounded by safety and care.