So Dick won't deny that he's got a lot in common with Bruce.

It's not like he flaunts it, but the man did raise him. He picked up some proclivities. He has a dangerous temper, when it's ignited. He can be prone to brooding, if he lets himself. He's protective to a fault. He likes to think he's tempered these things, but he won't deny they're in there, nor where they came from.

So he probably shouldn't be surprised that he's like Bruce in other ways? Bruce is his dad. Like father like son. Surely then Bruce will understand when he finds out about this, right? Well, now he's getting ahead of himself. He hasn't even... done anything yet.

But he's got a pretty good idea of where this is likely to go, doesn't he?

Okay, from the top. Patrol, duh, the usual Nightwing activities. It's not the worst part of town - Red Hood's claimed those - but it's not a great area, either. Which means a lot of the nightly duty is just keeping an eye out for street crime and gang problems. The Falcones mess about in this area. He's learned what to expect.

What he didn't expect was for the scuffling down an alleyway to not be that sort of trouble, but instead lead him here - to a kid, alone, in the middle of the night, rifling through a damn dumpster. Look, he knows homelessness is a problem. But it's winter, and Bruce has all the shelters funded and open, and... just...

Yeah. Like he said, he's got a pretty good idea where this is gonna go, doesn't he? Because he really is a lot like Bruce. And he can't just leave a lonely orphan in an alleyway.

He keeps his steps light, cautious, unintimidating. Makes a point of letting his boots crunch in the dirty snow lingering back here, waits for you to look up, holds up his hands calmingly. And puts on his best concerned-but-reassuring, lopsided little grin. "Hey, kid, you okay? What'cha doing back here by yourself?"