Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/812935.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      DCU_-_Comicverse, Batman_(Comics), Batman_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Dick_Grayson/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Dick_Grayson, Bruce_Wayne, Alfred_Pennyworth
  Additional Tags:
      Hurt/Comfort, Romance, First_Time, Fluff, Angst, Daddy_Kink, Possessive
      Behavior, Slow_Build
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-22 Updated: 2014-03-07 Chapters: 6/? Words: 28486
****** Of Long-Denied Emotions ******
by WorldsUnreal
Summary
     ~Revised~
     Something inside Bruce screamed. It was a voice, whispering into his
     ear. And that silent voice wanted so desperately. Wanted the light
     Dick brought with him to never leave.
     Very silently, the whispers told him that, for once, he had made the
     right decision.
***** Of Storms and Warmth *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi there! For an introduction I would like to say that this story
     will be quite long. Not sure how long, but it will be long. I will
     try to fit the plot into the current DCU without changing anything
     too important. So, this will not be set in an alternate universe. I
     will also try to make the characters as accurate as possible, but
     forgive me when I get carried away sometimes!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Chapter One
 
                             Of_Storms_and_Warmth
                                        
It was one of those nights again. Lightning flashed in a blinding burst of
white before the loud crack of thunder rippled through the Manor’s antiquated
walls. Rain poured in heavy torrents as wind howled into the abyss of the
night. They hadn't even bothered with patrol. The streets of Gotham, usually
teeming with crime and violence, were empty. The Gotham police force had
nothing to report, and there was nothing Batman and his boy wonder could do.
But to be very honest, they would much rather stay in the warm comfort of the
Manor than to go patrolling in such a storm.
Bruce was settled for bed, and for once in a very long time, he was allowed the
luxury of sleep. But he couldn't. Instincts honed by years of spending his
nights fighting crime kept him on edge. He was constantly agitated, even when
he assured himself there was nothing he could do that night.
The only other time he could remember sleeping well was half a year ago, when
he first took the orphaned circus boy in. Of course, he had still spent
countless hours giving the boy his training and following leads that could
bring them to Zucco. And yet, those were the times he had been able to sleep
peacefully; without being startled awake at odd hours in the morning by the
same, recurring nightmare.
He wasn't sure what made the nightmares stop. Maybe it was because he knew that
what he was doing could spare the boy from years of anguish and hate. Maybe it
was because he knew that he could. 
That, first and foremost, was why he let the boy fight alongside him. Because
Bruce understood. He understood the pain and injustice of it all.
He could still remember the night they finally captured Zucco as clearly as if
it had only happened the night before. 
"It's good to see you content with your acomplishments for a change, Master
Bruce." Alfred had said when they came back in the wee hours of the morning.
Then, quieter, almost whispering, with a gloved hand gently placed on an
armored shoulder, he added. "It's high time you finally accepted."
Dick was all smiles and Bruce, well… Bruce gave Dick a pat on the back and
smiled slightly at how happy the boy looked. He knew then that he had made the
right choice. Dick had needed this.
But as he thought back now, it wasn't exactly Zucco that made Dick's smile as
bright as it was. He could still recall the way Dick’s blue eyes looked up at
him with such- such-
He couldn't put a word to what he saw in Dick's eyes that night. He never
could. 
Later on that same night, Dick came back down to the cave, already in his
pajamas. With bare feet, he silently padded through the cold and damp cave to
where Batman was sitting. The boy told him that he wanted to stay by Batman's
side as Robin; that he would never allow anything bad happen to anyone else
ever again.
Bruce’s first thought was to tell him no. The life he had chosen was filled
with hatred and violence. He would never, ever, allow the innocent young boy
share his terrible burden. He told Dick that. Dick looked almost pained.
For a moment, Bruce cursed himself. Told himself he had been stupid, naive. He
should never have brought the boy into this. Should never have given him the
option. Should never have taken him home to the Manor. He had been selfish. And
stupid. It was a mistake.
He hated himself just a little bit more for it.
"But Bruce- Batman, it's not a burden! I can't let you do this alone…. Not
anymore." Dick's blue eyes were wide in the gloom of the cave, and his small
hands looked so delicate as he tentatively placed them on the Bat’s armored
arm. Bruce remained silent for a while, thinking about that night he swore
above his parents' grave that, for the rest of his life, he would fight against
the force that took them away from him. The oath came from a mind plagued with
pain and despair. Bruce could not bring himself to imagine the bright and
innocent boy treading through the same path he was, even after everything. 
Dick was not like him. And he prayed to whatever gods may be that he never
would be.
It was a mistake. 
But he had heard the silent sobs at night. He had heard the choked cries as
Dick startled awake from troubled dreams. He had seen the pain and yearning in
Dick’s eyes whenever he thought nobody was looking.
So how could he ever forget how the boy smiled when he gave him a new home in
the Manor? When he gave the boy the mask and cape?
Dick needed this. He knew Dick needed it. But that didn’t make it right.
"Dick, I care for you. The life I have chosen for myself is not a happy one. Go
to school, graduate, find a woman special to you and marry her… Have a real
life, Dick. This is not for you." Something inside Bruce screamed. It was a
voice, whispering into his ear. And that silent voice wanted so desperately.
Wanted the light Dick brought with him to never leave.
Very silently, the whispers told him that, for once, he had made the right
decision. 
"It's not always like that. It- I-" Dick looked down at his bare feet for a
moment, then up again. "I want to do this. I need this as much as you did- and
still do." Dick's blue eyes were glimmering with the strength of conviction,
and Bruce could not help but stare into them. For a moment the dark knight of
Gotham, the man who was always three steps ahead of everyone and anyone, was
rendered speechless by those blue depths of Dick's eyes.
By Dick's beautiful innocence.
How could he ever taint him? How could he ever allow anything to corrupt this
boy?
After a pause, a smile lit up Dick's face and he added, "Our parents will be
proud of us, I'm sure of that."
Hearing that, Bruce enveloped the young boy in a tight embrace. For the first
time in a very long time, he allowed himself to be happy. Allowed himself to
hope that, one day, Dick would forget and leave it all behind. That one day
this boy would finally be happy again.
He could make that happen. He could try. 
Yes. He could try.
Dick hugged Bruce back just as tightly. He felt so small and fragile underneath
the Bat's thick armor. In that instant, Bruce knew that he would always, always
keep the boy safe. He would never let anything hurt Dick. Not again. Not ever
again would he let anyone get hurt. 
Never again.
"Yes, Robin, they will be very proud." Bruce whispered, barely audible. The
young boy sighed happily before he fell asleep, content and happy, in Bruce's
arms. Bruce held him like that for a while. This young boy, only 11, had
somehow managed to find happiness in what was left of his world. Something
Bruce himself had never quite been able to do. 
Bruce had carried him off to bed, and told Alfred not to wake him up the
following morning. Alfred complied, but not without telling Bruce that, he too,
should probably sleep a well-earned rest. Bruce did. And that was the night he
slept peacefully, dreaming dreams filled with Dick's brilliant smile and the
way his laughter echoed through the Manor's desolate halls.
But that had been months ago, this night wasn’t the same. Bruce was staring,
completely awake, at his ceiling. He wasn’t looking. He was elsewhere.
He allowed the memories to linger, before another flash of lightning brought
him back to reality.
He sighed, and thought about the room across the hall. Dick was probably asleep
by now. He found himself wondering about the boy’s dreams. Silently, he prayed
they would be happy dreams.
Just then, a particularly loud crack of thunder ripped through the night sky.
Bruce couldn't help being reminded of the night it all happened. The way his
father tried his best to protect his family, and failed. The hollow, deranged
eyes of the man with the gun. The dark crimson of his parent’s blood as he
watched their lives ebb away.
He felt a familiar twinge of pain twist in his chest and sighed once more.
He also remembered, in painful clarity, the look on Dick's face when the
trapeze snapped. The raw horror when his parents fell. Farther and farther away
from the safety of the platform, all the way to the hard and unforgiving
ground.
There was a storm that night in the circus, too.
He had watched Dick's parents fall, and he watched Dick's desperation as he
tried reaching for them. They both knew what it meant when their bodies would
hit the floor. Yes, he knew.
But he still hadn't done anything. He had just wacthed, like everybody else.
Dazed. Helpless.
He had failed Dick then. He could have seen it coming. He could have prevented
all the tears Dick had shed if he had just paid more attention. If he hadn't
been so ignorant,  he could have-
Suddenly, the door to his bedroom opened. Distracted as Bruce was by his
thoughts, he didn't hear the footsteps that came before the small whisper of a
voice.
"Bruce?" It was Dick. He sounded small and… hesitant. Bruce immediately sat up,
expecting trouble.
"Dick, what's wrong? Did the commissioner call?" Bruce looked over at Dick and
saw that, at least, he wasn't bleeding or hurt.
"Nothing's wrong, you would have known long before I have if there was." Dick
gave a slight smile that quickly disappeared. "Bruce, it's just that." Dick
swallowed, trying to find the right words. "It's raining really hard and
there's thunder and lightning and- you see, Bruce….."
Worried now, Bruce approached his ward and knelt in front of him. He searched
the boy’s blue eyes, they had always betrayed how he truly felt. But this time,
Dick quickly turned his face towards the floor. 
"What is it Dick?" Bruce tried as gently as he could manage. He wasn’t good at
this, but for Dick, he would try. For Dick he would always try.
"I- I can't sleep." Dick admitted sheepishly, and looked at his hands in
embarrassment. Bruce can now see that Dick's face was tinged pink, and that his
cheeks were damp. It finally came to Bruce that Dick had been crying.
He placed his thumb lightly on  the boy's soft cheek to wipe away the tears.
His hand was big on the boy's delicate face, and his finger was rough on the
boy's tender skin. Dick looked up at the touch. His eyes were wet, and even in
the dim of his bedroom, Bruce could see that he had been crying for quite a
while. 
Not for the first time, Bruce felt guilt settle deep inside his gut.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Bruce tried again, desperately looking for a
way to make the sadness in the boy's eyes go away. He hated seeing Dick so
distraught. Dick was meant to be happy.
Dick tried to say something, but he couldn’t seem to say it out loud. Just
then, another bolt of lightning flashed right beside Bruce's room and Dick
almost jumped at the loud crackle of thunder that followed. His blue eyes were
wide, and his lower lip trembled slightly.
"Bruce, I-I'm- scared." Dick's voiced cracked, obviously trying to hold back
more tears. Bruce, among all people, knew that the boy wonder would not cry
unless something very terrible happened. Bruce wrapped his arms around the
shivering frame in front of him and gently stroked his back reassuringly. He
murmured soothingly until the boy seemed to calm down a little.
"Bruce, can I… can I sleep here tonight?" Dick asked in a tiny voice, sounding
so bizarre coming from the otherwise fearless Robin. Before Bruce could say
anything, Dick piped in again with a new note of urgency. "My mother used to be
there during storms like these. She- she told me she'll always stay. She told
me she'll always be there- but- she’s- she’s-" The end of the sentence was
intruded by a violent sob. Bruce could feel warm wet tears against the back of
his neck as more and more sobs wrecked through the boy.
"It's alright Dick. I'm here." Bruce lifted the boy up into his arms and
carried him over to his bed. Gently, he settled the boy into the warmth of his
blankets. Dick immediately curled up into them, trying to make himself as small
as possible from the crashing thunder outside.
When the boy started shivering again, Bruce pressed him tightly against
himself.
Dick had his face buried in Bruce's chest as his sobs slowly died down, all the
while Bruce slowly smoothed the boy's hair and whispered comforting nothings.
He just wished he could promise Dick so much more.
After the boy's breath finally evened out, he looked up at Bruce with
shimmering blue eyes.
"It's alright Dick." Bruce said again for the thousandth time that night as he
gently brushed a stray tousle of hair from the boy's face. Dick's troubled eyes
finally cleared and his pink lips curled into the sweetest smile yet- Bruce
thought he felt something inside him melt a little.
"Thanks Bruce, you're the best." Dick said in a half-whisper and closed his
eyes to drift into long-awaited sleep, still curled up in Bruce's arms.
Bruce said nothing for a while. Watching Dick's chest rise and fall steadily as
he drifted into peaceful dreams.
The smile was still ghosting on his lips, the blush still gave his cheeks a
pinkish shade. Bruce stroked the boy's dark curls, his eyes never leaving him.
Bruce felt his senses dull slowly as he settled into sleep, strangely at peace
with his ward curled up at his chest.
He knew then, that he did manage to find happiness in what was left of his
world after all.
"Thank you Dick, for staying with me."
Chapter End Notes
     So, what did you think of the first chapter? Please review and tell
     me what you think, and what you would like to see in the future. I
     can't continue without knowing what you guys want, now could I? I'll
     update as soon as I know what to write about. Thanks a lot!
     F.Y.I. you can also read this story on fanfiction.net in case
     something happens to this one, same title and username (but with a
     space between the words) :)
***** Of Dinners and Uncertainty *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks to all those who bookmarked and gave this story kudos! This
     chapter will be where the plot really begins. So... enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Chapter Two  
 
                          Of_Dinners_and_Uncertainty
                                        
The next morning was greeted by a reluctant dawn. The sun hid behind a
persistent layer of grey clouds and for some reason, the morning birds have
failed to awaken. Bruce opened his eyes cautiously to the dim light filtering
into his bedroom; instinct telling him that something was amiss. He had this
dreading feeling telling him that he had his guard down for too long. Was he
drugged? Poison Ivy? As the fuzziness of sleep gradually resided, he recalled
that he didn't even bother with patrol last night.
Stirring farther from sleep, he noticed that a soft cheek was pressed into his
neck. And that his face was buried in sweet-smelling black curls. Last night's
events came back to him all too fast, and he sighed in understanding. Bruce had
subconsciously assumed that last night was nothing but a dream. One of those
rare, beautiful dreams he sometimes had. Dreams that he must always wake up
from, and then it would hurt just a little bit more to stare into his bleak,
empty room.
But as he felt the whisper of breath stir the skin underneath his ear and a
small lithe form pressed into his chest, he knew that this time he wasn't just
dreaming.
He pulled Dick’s small frame tighter into his, the young boy muttered something
sleepily in response but didn't wake. When Dick was asleep like this, Bruce
could almost pretend that nothing was wrong with the world. He could pretend
the pain didn’t exist.
Bruce lifted his hand gingerly to push a stray strand of hair behind Dick's
ear, the boy sighed softly at the touch and nuzzled his face into Bruce's neck.
In the solace of his room, Bruce allowed himself a little smile.
When the first of the morning birds finally began their song, Dick stirred and
opened his eyes sleepily. For a brief moment, Dick's breath hitched in
realization that he was not in his bedroom.
"Good morning, Dick." Bruce said in a low voice that could have qualified as
nothing but the rustle of leaves in the morning breeze, hadn't the room been so
quiet. Dick moved back a little to stare at Bruce with wide baby-blue eyes, the
same color of the small flowers that grew on the outskirts of Gotham. But
Dick's blue was softer and inexplicably more radiant at the same time. Bruce
couldn't help but notice how prettily they were framed by a thick frizz of dark
lashes. He quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind and recomposed
himself.
"How are you?" This made Dick's cheeks flush a little and he quickly averted
his eyes away from Bruce.
"I'm alright now." Dick muttered without looking at the older man. Bruce
searched the boy’s eyes for a moment longer. Only when the boy’s cheeks
darkened even more did Bruce move on.
"How about some breakfast? I think Alfred said he wanted to make his special
muffins today." Bruce knew how much Dick loved Alfred's muffins, not that
anyone would give up a chance to eat them. The initial turmoil in Dick's
features softened into a wide grin, the boy was more than willing to be
distracted by muffins. The usual, happy and sunny Dick Grayson was back.
"You bet I do." Dick made a move to get dressed, only to realize his room (and
his clothes) was in the other side of the manor. Alfred disapproved of seeing
him walk around the manor in pajamas. It's distasteful and inappropriate, he
would say and Dick was really not in the mood to get an earful of etiquette and
manners. For a second, Dick considered the possibility of climbing out of
Bruce's window and then climb back into his own bedroom, but that thought was
soon interrupted by a knock on the door followed by a polite: "Master Bruce?"
"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce said as he moved his arms away from Dick and sat
up. Dick went on to stretch luxuriously as he blinked the last remains of sleep
from his eyes.
"Master Bruce, I'm afraid that I can't seem to locate young Master Dick."
Alfred said through the door, a slight note of worry tainting his heavy English
accent.
"Don't worry, Alfred. Dick is here." Bruce's tone was nonchalant as he walked
over to the door and opened it. Alfred stole a quick glance at Dick who was
still yawning sleepily on Bruce's bed before returning his attention back to
his older charge standing before him.
"I see, thank you sir." Alfred paused for a professional moment, then turned to
face Dick and continued. "Master Dick, would you fancy some breakfast? I have
prepared muffins by my great-aunt's homemade recipe." Alfred's voice was
neutral and as formal as ever, but Dick could see amusement in his eyes.
"You know I do, Al." Dick grinned at Alfred, who smiled back knowingly.
"Then I must insist that you shower and change before coming down, Master
Dick." As if in defeat, Dick sighed and slowly made his way to the door,
pouting all the way. Alfred definitely knew how to get what he wanted, although
Dick still thought using muffins as bait was a little unfair. Bruce ruffled
Dick's dark hair on his way out. Dick only huffed a little, but then proceeded
to flash him with one of his lopsided smirks.
"I'll see you downstairs, Master Bruce." Alfred retorted. Bruce was going to
say something back, but a twinkle in Alfred's eyes made him stumble on his
thoughts. It was the same odd twinkle Alfred gave him when Bruce first
mentioned taking Dick in as his official ward. He couldn't understand it then,
and even more so now. It was a sly, knowing twinkle that made Bruce a little
more than uncomfortable. He wasn't used to knowing less than the people around
him. Bruce always knew everything of anything. But Alfred's thoughts were
always an entirely different story.
"Sure, Alfred." Bruce managed to recover a split second afterward, no one would
ever have noticed the delay. At least no one but Alfred.
"Come, Master Dick." Alfred made an ushering gesture at Dick, and the young boy
followed obediently. Bruce frowned slightly in frustration. Alfred knew
something, something he obviously didn't. There was no hope in forcing it out
of the old butler, so the only other thing to do was to push it to the back of
his mind and wait.
 
===============================================================================
 
The day was quite uneventful. Dick went to school, Bruce went to meetings with
undoubtedly rich and important people, and Alfred stayed at the Manor to do
whatever he usually did.
Gotham city was too quiet. Bruce was beginning to suspect that something major
was being planned, or worse, that Arkham’s insane were contemplating the city’s
termination. But then again, Bruce was known to be quite paranoid; or
rather, cautious as he preferred to call it himself. 
Bruce was skimming over some files in his lavishly designed office when his
phone rang. Even before he picked it up, Bruce knew it was Alfred. The only
people who had Bruce's private phone number were Alfred, Dick and Fox. Judging
by the time, Dick would be at school and Fox would be in a real-estate
conference, which left only Alfred. 
Alfred very rarely called him during that time of the day. Could there have
been news from the commissioner? Or from Dick?
"Master Bruce, I do hope I am not interrupting anything?" Alfred's voice came
through the phone's speakers.
"Not at all. What is it?"
"As you are most likely aware, there seems to be no apparent criminal activity
around Gotham as of late. At least nothing the local police force couldn’t
handle without needing the assistance of a certain.. law enforcer. From there,
may I be so bold to ask if you could spare some time to join us for dinner
tonight? I have taken the liberty to prepare a proper dinner for both Master
Dick and yourself."
"Of course, Alfred. I would love to. I think I can even make it back before
six." Bruce was a little surprised by this. Alfred didn't call to invite him to
dinner every other day. Bruce was quite certain there wasn't anything special
that day, and it wasn't like Alfred to act on whims.
"What's the occasion?" Bruce asked in a trained tone. The words didn't betray
Bruce's burning curiosity, but still had the intensity to push anyone to an
answer. But Alfred knew Bruce all too well.
"My apologies, sir, but I believe that one does not need a specific occasion to
enjoy a decent family dinner. Besides, everbody needs a chance to unwind
oneself every once in a while." Alfred was unrelenting when he insisted and
Bruce saw no reason to argue.
"Alright, I'll be there."
"Very good. Master Dick will be more than pleased to know that you can join
dinner for a change. Good day, Master Bruce."
"Thank you, Alfred" Bruce narrowed his eyes in thought as he hung up. It was
true that Bruce didn't join his young ward at dinner very often in the past six
months, but Dick had always told him that spending time with him as Robin was
way more fun anyway. And from what Alfred had been telling him, it seemed that
Dick never really bothered to eat what Alfred would call decent dinners. Most
of the time, Dick would settle for a couple of sandwiches before returning to
whatever he was doing earlier. 
A thought suddenly struck Bruce. Dick was alone most of the time, and when he
was with Bruce it was usually spent in dark alleys or dusty warehouses. 
Bruce sighed. He may be an expert at a dozen foreign languages, another dozen
martial arts, criminology and everything else he would ever need to fight
crime, but he was at a complete loss when it came to... more personal matters.
Alfred had often reprimanded him for his inability to settle down. Whenever the
gossip pages were filled with news over Bruce Wayne’s break up yet again,
Alfred would sigh wearily, but even Alfred had given up the notion of pointing
it out. And during parties, when Bruce had two or more women draped across him,
from a distance, Alfred would give him looks.
Bruce had always tried to avoid intimacy. He knew well enough about the danger
he could place anyone into. He remembered all too well what nearly happened to
Julie Madison. He couldn’t afford a social life. He had to do this alone.
In his defense, he wasn’t being selfish.
But then it came back to Dick. Had he been selfish then?
Was he neglecting Dick?
Bruce remembered how utterly alone he used to feel in the beginning. All alone
in the darkness of reality, crying cries that would never be heard. Calling for
mom and dad who would never answer again. Desperate to hear voices that are
gone forever.
His mother's tender and loving gaze. His father's deep and gentle
encouragements. Never again.
The world had suddenly seemed too bright, too loud, too harsh for someone like
him. For someone so lost in a sea of hurt and pain and despair and darkness.
The night he saw his parents bleeding on the cold hard ground, the world
shifted right before his eyes. He realized that it was all just a lie in the
face of a painful truth. A lie to keep the demons away. A lie that failed
nonetheless. The demons were there, always had been. Always would be.
The world as he knew it was gone. Ghosts and lost souls haunting, claiming
every dark corner. Voices whispering, demanding a second chance they would
never get. Eyes watching, waiting for him to fall. The world was cold. The
world was loathsome. The world was heartless.
The world did not care.
Everybody suffered and everybody hated.
The world was ugly.
He suffered and he hated.
But Dick… Young, brilliant Dick. Dick with his bright blue eyes. Dick with his
sweet smiles. Dick with his warm, generous hugs. Dick with his unwavering
trust.
Dick was beautiful in his own, unassuming way.
This world was no place for him.
Dick would get hurt one day. And when it would happen, Bruce would not be
there. He would be helpless. Again.
Dick would get hurt, Bruce knew that, but the worst thing was that he also
knew, deep down, that when Dick would get hurt, it would be his fault.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Late that afternoon, Dick came home to be greeted by Alfred. School had been
boring. He had to pretend to listen to block-headed teachers telling him things
he already knew. The school Bruce had placed him in might have been the best
all-boys-school in Gotham, but it was still nothing compared to the training
sessions he had with Batman. Dick had to force himself to stay awake every
passing minute. The only reason why he still attended school was probably for
the sake of public formality.
What would people think if they hear that the Prince of Gotham’s ward got less
than the very best? As if they actually knew what was best for him. As if they
knew anything about him. Dick still remembered all the diplomatic business
Bruce had to get through to prevent themfrom making a big deal about his
adoption.
It was always theyand themjudging and making everyone’s lives miserable.
 Dick was frowning as he walked in.
"Long day at school, Master Dick?" Alfred asked kindly, taking his school bag
from him.
"God, Alfred," Dick made an exaggerated sigh, "you can't even begin to guess
how many times I almost fell asleep today. I swear, Al, those teachers know as
much about their subjects as the kid next door does."
"With all due respect, young sir, we do not have any immediate neighbors."
Alfred gave Dick a smug look, and Dick couldn't help but giggle. He felt much
better already.
"Sure, Al, you always know best anyway. By the way, what's that I smell?" Dick
sniffed at the air as a strong waft of something smelling terribly good drifted
in his direction. Dick was suddenly reminded of his mother back in the circus
and he wondered why.
Sniffing again, Dick looked over at Alfred. Despite everything, the butler
looked very pleased with himself.
"What you are smelling, young sir, is tonight's dinner. I have taken special
care to prepare a dish usually enjoyed in travelling circuses. I presume you
are familiar with this particular one?" Dick sniffed at the scent again,
and damn. Alfred's good. 
This was exactly what the cook at Haly’s circus made during festivals and
events. 
It was relatively simple compared to the food Dick had recently been eating at
Bruce’s parties. It consisted of baked chicken submerged in a thick, saucy
gravy. 
Dick smiled as warm memories flooded over him. It was his 8th birthday again,
celebrated in a warm beach town on the East Coast. Then it was his parent’s
wedding anniversary, and then the circus’ grand opening in Manhattan. It was a
big night for all of them. Manhattan was a big city and the first one they had
been in for a couple of years.
"Alfred! This is exactly what we had during big events back in the circus! How-
How did you ever know?” Alfred just cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I have my ways, Master Dick. More importantly, I'll be happy to inform you
that Master Bruce might even be able to join us for dinner tonight."
"That's great, Al." Dick beamed up at him, it was not very often that Bruce ate
his dinner (or any of his meals, frankly) at home.
"Indeed. Now, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I have dinner to prepare."
"Sure Al." Dick flashed him another grin before the butler dipped his head
slightly and went off.
It was just a little before five and there was still plenty of time before
dinner. Dick was definitely not in the mood for homework or any school-related
work. It had been a slow and lazy day, what Dick needed was some time in the
manor’s gym.
The gym Bruce had installed for him had everything an acrobat could ever ask
for and more. The walls of the gym were covered with bullet-proof mirrors and
the floor was matted with shock-absorbing matting. Bruce had told Dick that
these mats would still prevent him from getting hurt even if he fell from a
three-story building. Apparently, their armor used the same technology as the
mats did. Courtesy to Wayne Technology, of course. 
Aside from that, the gym also had a total of two trapezes, two pairs of
parallel bars, three balance beams, a myriad of other equipment and even a
large uneven structure used for parkour practice. Dick knew that Bruce had more
than enough money to buy him anything he could ever want (hell, Bruce even had
enough money to compensate Batman's existence), but he still felt a little
embarrassed whenever he saw this gym.
Dick was relatively new to the world of politics and money, and he was still
far from being comfortable around it. As a circus boy, the only pricey gifts
Dick got were from his fans, and even then, the most expensive gift he had ever
gotten was one of those exquisite flower bouquets. 
Dick marveled at the gym again. It was big, and very fancy. 
He began stretching out of habit; his pliant body bending and arching
gracefully. Standing completely straight on just one hand, he delicately arched
his back to lower his feet unto the ground. He stayed like that for a second
before he swiftly coiled back to perform a perfect somersault. As he felt his
palms touch the matting, braced and somersaulted backwards. Dick smiled as he
landed back on both his feet, feeling a familiar thrill flood him. His father
had thought him that move when he was six. It had been, and still was, one of
his favorites. 
There were many other floor exercises Dick could go through, but what he really
needed at that moment was to be 20 feet above the ground, hanging from a
trapeze.
There, high up in the air, was where he belonged. Looking down at the blur of
the crowd, wind rushing beneath his feet as he jumped, hands outstretched for
the next bar, constantly in motion. Whenever Dick was flying, he was free, he
was alive. He was, Dick Grayson.
Dick looked down at the morbidly empty gym and sighed. The cheering crowd was
no longer there and the platform waiting ahead of him was empty. His mom or dad
were no longer waiting for him on the other side, ready to catch him.
It suddenly felt terribly wrong to be up there all alone without the rest of
his team. It felt wrong to be there without his mom and dad. He missed the
circus, he missed performing, he missed being a Flying Grayson. But that didn’t
really matter much. What he really missed was being with his parents.
Dick closed his eyes and felt the edge of the platform with his toes. With a
shuddering intake of breath, he jumped. Swinging and gliding once more; but
alone nonetheless. Whenever Dick turned to grab the next trapeze, he expected
to see a hand reaching out. But, of course, it wasn't there.
Despite the constant reminder at the back of his mind that something was
missing, Dick felt a familiar giddy rush. There was an odd sort of comfort in
the way he could almost pretend he was back at Haly’s, practicing on his own on
a warm summer day. Everything was exactly the same, the rush of wind in his
face, the firmness of the bar underneath his hands, the adrenaline pumping in
his veins.
Dick couldn't help being happy whenever he was doing what he was born to do. To
fly.
"I remember the first time I saw you up there." A deep voice startled Dick the
moment he had his feet safely on the platform again. He turned to see Bruce
standing in the corner of the gym. He was just standing there, almost
completely motionless. Despite the ornate suit Bruce was wearing, he looked as
intimidating as he would be in cape and cowl.
How long had he been there? From this far away Dick couldn't make out Bruce's
expression, but he could still feel the intensity of those deep midnight-blue
eyes on him.
His voice was hard, but Dick thought he could hear just the slightest trace of
a smile there. Dick grinned back.
"Well, the Graysons are known to fly, you know." Dick climbed off the platform
and jumped when he was about five feet off the ground. He landed elegantly on
both his hands and proceeded to do a couple of flips. Dick stopped right in
front of Bruce, still grinning. He did enjoy showing off to Bruce. Besides, he
was used to an entire tent full of cheering people. Although on second thought,
having the Batman himself watch him was not an entirely unappealing idea.
"So I've heard." The corners of Bruce's mouths turned up slightly into an
almost-smile as he petted the boy's damp hair. It was a rare occasion to see
Bruce like this, but it  would be a lie to say Dick didn't like the way Bruce's
big hand felt in his hair. It made him feel… safe.
Too bad it was gone only a moment later. Dick felt his guardian's eyes watching
him again and he looked up to return an equally blue gaze. Deep midnight-blue
locked with radiant baby-blue. His guardian still had that unusual light-
hearted vibe about him, and it would be a terrible shame not to play along.
"You're home early." Dick asked with a smirk, looking up sideways at Bruce
playfully. "What's up? Did you miss me?" Bruce's expression was unreadable as
he eyed Dick silently for barely longer than a heartbeat.
"Come, Alfred would be serving dinner soon. He would like to see you showered."
Bruce's deep blue eyes softened just the tiniest bit as he held out a hand.
Still smiling, Dick took Bruce's hand happily into his own and walked back
alongside his guardian.
When Dick felt fuzzy warmth spread through him that caused his heart to flutter
and his cheeks to flush, he really did wonder why.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Alfred sounded the dinner bell at precisely 7 o'clock, just as Dick had started
to get really hungry. Dinner was simple, unlike some of the 'proper dinners'
Alfred occasionally made, but it reminded Dick of all the happier memories he
had of the circus. It was laid out exactly as it used to be; the main course,
the rolls that served as a side-dish, the colorful fruit salad, and even the
orange soda Dick had always loved. Alfred was meticulous in his perfection.
"Is everything as wished, young Master?" Alfred inquired as he saw Dick looking
around with a wide-eyed expression.
"Alfred, this is… This is exactly how everything used to be! I know you have
your ways, Al, but… they must be one heck of a method to find things out!" Dick
was rewarded with a smug look.
"Indeed they are, sir. Besides, I strongly believe that you do deserve a meal
that you associate with some of your happier memories." Alfred's eyes were warm
as he gestured for Dick to sit down. Dick was still eyeing at how Alfred had
perfectly replicated the meal when he saw movement from the corner of his eye.
"Good evening, Master Bruce. Good to see that you had managed to make it for
dinner. As you can see sir, I have prepared something rather special tonight."
"It does smell very good, Alfred. What is it exactly?" 
Dick looked up at the rumble of Bruce’s deep voice, only to be startled to see
that Bruce was looking directly back at him. His mind suddenly went blank with
the intensity of Bruce's gaze. 
Dick just stared back, too flustered to do anything else. With every moment
that passed as Dick gazed into Bruce’s dark eyes, his heart thumped faster and
faster. 
Dick snapped back when he heard Alfred clear his throat politely and began
speaking again from the other side of the table.
"Before you, sir, is a meal prepared and enjoyed only in a travelling circus.
The cook under the employment of Haly's Circus prepares this very meal
specially for festivals and the occasional events of wedding or anniversary."
Alfred shot Dick a tiny smile before continuing. "I have reason to believe that
Master Dick is especially fond of this dish."
Dick beamed up at Alfred, then Bruce.
"Bruce, you won't believe that this looks and smells exactly the way I remember
it."
"Sure I will, Dick." Bruce's voice was effortlessly calm as he took a seat
across from Dick. "I am quite aware of what Alfred is capable of making."
Taking the hint, Alfred bowed slightly.
"Bon appétit, Masters." With that, Alfred left, probably only to wait in an
unseen corner. Somehow Alfred always knew exactly where and when he was
expected to reappear.
For a brief moment Dick wondered if Alfred would have made a good crime fighter
with his skills as a butler. He imagined Alfred jumping from roof to roof in a
suit alongside Batman and Robin, apologizing in his British accent every time
he took a thug down. Dick couldn't suppress a grin at the thought of that.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Dick had already filled  his plate and was pushing a spoonful of chicken and
gravy in his mouth.
"Oh nothing." He said hurriedly. "Just another one of my crazy ideas."
"Mind telling me about them? I always found your ideas very amusing, Dick."
Bruce sounded as if he was in an extraordinarily good mood, and Dick couldn't
help but smile.
"Well, have you ever noticed how Alfred always knows about everything going on
in the manor, and how he can always tell exactly when he's needed?" Dick
lowered his voice a little, almost whispering what he said next. "Don't you
think he could put those skills to use out there?" Dick motioned with his thumb
to the general direction of the batcave.
"I suppose he can, Dick, if he isn't always so insistent about caring for the
manor's well-being so consistently." Bruce was obviously not serious, and Dick
was honestly very surprised to hear Bruce crack a joke. To top that, Bruce even
smiled with it. One thing he had learned about Bruce in the past six months was
that the billionaire never joked, unless he's playing the spoiled playboy
façade, but that didn’t actually count.
"Or making one heck of a dinner for us." Dick added and took a massive bite off
of a roll; Bruce smiled a little more at that.
"How's school, Dick?" The sudden change in topic put Dick off guard and he
didn't get the chance to think about what he was going to say, so he blurted
out the first thing that came to mind.
"Great. My classmates are always very nice. I think most of them like me quite
much."
"That's good to hear. Your teachers also tell me you're catching up very well."
Dick remembered how bored he was that afternoon at school. Those dusty men and
women who called themselves teachers barely qualified for their title. There
was an actual chance that they could be quite smart, but that fact was drowned
out by one thing: They. Were. Boring. The only teacher Dick thought who was
worthy of his respect was the man right in front of him. The Batman himself.
"I do have the best mentor anyone can ask for. How do you think I got an A for
Civil Studies and Spanish?" Dick grinned, and on second thought added, "And for
gymnastics?"
"Dick, I couldn't have possibly helped you anymore in gymnastics than I do now.
I just hope you didn't show off too much."
"No Bruce, that's not what I meant." Dick could barely suppress a giggle when
he saw Bruce blink once. "If it weren't for you, how else did I manage enough
self-control not to earn myself an A+?"
The rest of dinner continued in the same manner. Bruce asked Dick questions
from one side of the table, and Dick chattered happily from the other end.
Occasionally, Bruce would even throw in a joke. Dick would just say something
witty back and giggle some more at seeing his otherwise gloomy guardian in such
a good mood. All in all, dinner was spent in light-hearted ease.
It was a rare occasion where they could both sit down together and relax over
an excellent dinner. Alfred is a genius, Dick thought as he watched the
immaculately dressed butler take away plates to make way for dessert. He's
probably the only man alive who knows how to give Bruce such a good mood.
Dick was just telling Bruce exactly why he should be allowed to watch late-
night movies on the weekends (provided they didn't have to go on patrol,
obviously). He really didn't want to miss watching a rerun of The Sound of
Music that Friday night. Bruce was effortlessly striking every single one of
Dick's arguments down.
Bruce’s persistent smirk made Dick all the more determined to convince Bruce,
even when he decided quite some time ago that Bruce was, as always, right and
that going to bed was probably a much better idea.
Dick was heatedly thinking up a new defense argument when Bruce shifted in his
seat. Dick looked up to see that the smirk had disappeared and his eyes took on
uncanny glint. The next thing Bruce said threw Dick off-balance.
"Say Dick, would you tell me more about your friends?" His tone told Dick
nothing and Dick wondered whether Bruce genuinely wanted to know or if he had
just found another way to win the argument. Dick searched eyes that felt as if
they were boring holes into his skull, but found nothing, again.
"My friends? Do you mean the ones at school?"
"Yes."
"Well… Everyone's really nice and kind. They asked a lot of questions at first,
which was honestly a little more than annoying, but that quickly passed. Most
of them tell me they really like spending time with me and sometimes-"
"I meant a little more specific." Bruce interrupted with the exact same
lusterless tone and expression. "Is there anyone in particular you spend more
time with?"
"Uh, well… there's a boy from gymnastics I always end up having to help. And
another one that I always end up getting paired up with in class projects.
There's one more that always gets seated next to me." Dick paused to recall the
hours he spent at school. "I also know an older boy who comes by every lunch
break to eat lunch together with me. I'm not quite sure from which class he is,
but he told me he goes to another school that's right beside ours." Bruce
narrowed his eyes a little, and by then Dick was flipping all kinds of
questions in his head. The look Bruce had meant danger. It's the same one Dick
recognized from when they're following a lead as Batman and Robin. What exactly
was Bruce getting at?
"The building beside yours is a Highschool. How much older is he?"
"Geez, Bruce. I can't tell just by looking at him. He's very nice to me, so
don't worry." Just then Alfred came with a bowl of ice cream. Dessert looked
absolutely delicious and Dick couldn't stop himself from digging into it
immediately. After swallowing and realizing that Bruce was still waiting, still
staring, Dick continued uncertainly. "Around 4 to 5 years? He probably looks
older than he really is."
"Why is that?"
"He told me he's the captain of the football team, which is not as impressive
as he thinks it sounds." Dick sniggered a little despite the heat Bruce's eyes
were giving off. "He's quite big, not nearly as big as you are, but it still
makes him look a whole lot older than he is." At that, Bruce narrowed his eyes
even more, not even attempting to hide the dark suspicion boiling in them.
"The primary and Highschool buildings are quite a distance away. Did you ever
ask him why he bothers?" This was not Bruce, this was the Batman talking, as
direct and efficient as any living man could ever be. And efficient it
definitely was.
"Yeah, once, a couple of weeks ago." Dick said in between mouthfuls of creamy
vanilla ice cream. It was hard not to feel a little suffocated when Bruce was
looking at him like that. He just hoped vanilla ice cream was enough of a
distraction to keep a straight face. "It was raining quite hard and there was
wind too, but he still came. I thought that was kind of silly of him, so I
asked him why he wouldn't have preferred to eat lunch with his other friends
that day."
"What did he say?"
"His answer was just as silly. He told me that a little rain would never keep
him from coming to see me. Really, Bruce, the only thing he does when we eat is
talk about how well he did on his last game. He couldn't possibly be some kind
of criminal. He probably just likes me." Bruce’s eyebrows puckered into a kind
of frown and he looked down in thought. Seeing his chance, Dick seized it.
"What's with the sudden questions, Bruce?" The brooding figure quickly snapped
up and Bruce almost instantly returned to his earlier easy mood.
"I was just wondering how you're doing socially, Dick. It's not always easy to
fit into a completely different lifestyle in such a short time."
"I guess so. I don't really mind change that much. I'm quite used to it. Living
with a travelling circus did mean you had to move from city to city every other
week." He wasn't looking at Bruce when he said that; he was much too busy
licking the last remains of the creamy substance from his spoon. After a pause
he added, "Don't worry about me, Bruce".
He shot the older man a reassuring smile as he spoke. Bruce didn't say
anything. His midnight-blue eyes burned with something Dick couldn't quite put
his finger on.
 
Chapter End Notes
     So, what did you guys think of a Dick P.O.V? Love it? Hate it?
     Please shout out all your burning comments and/or questions in the
     comment section :)
     Knowing what you guys would love to hear will help a lot with making
     the third chapter.
     P.s. Julie Madison was Bruce's love interest in a Batman limited
     series called Dark Moon Rising.
***** Of Rich Men and Crimes *****
Chapter Notes
     First of all I have to thank all those of you who commented and gave
     kudos! I really appreciate that!
     This is the chapter where you'll finally see Bruce and Dick as Batman
     and Robin. So, I'll hope you'll enjoy this!!
     P.S. This takes place on the same night where chapter 2 left off.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
                                Chapter Three 
                            Of_Rich_Men_and_Crimes
                                        
The shadows were long in the biting cold of the starless night. It was quiet,
interrupted only by the occasional static crackle of dying street lights.
In a lonely corner of the city, where the darkness was almost impenetrable and
the air reeked, the shadows stirred. The slightest tremble in the still air was
followed by a fleeting flash of silhouettes. And just as fast as it came, the
disturbance in the seemingly unyielding stillness was gone. The silence draped
back over the shadows and the icy wind was left to howl to its contentment.
Somewhere in the depths of the city’s streets of corruption and sin lay a
crumpled body, alone and cold and as still as the night that surrounded it.
The shadows stirred again, slowly this time, to reveal the dark, towering form
of the Bat. The figure's eyes were cold flints of white as it made its way to
the fallen figure on the ground.
Two fingers clad in heavy black leather pressed into ghost-pale skin pulsing
with a stuttering heartbeat. The gloved fingers cautiously moved upward to turn
the head. Cold sweat dripped over tensed muscles, twitching every now and then.
The gloved hand was steady as white slants narrowed to examine the face it
held. Wide and unblinking eyes stared unseeingly at whatever was in front of
them, pupils shrunk to make them almost entirely grey. Tears brimmed out of the
swollen lids as lips silently mouthed the same word again and again.
"Why?"
The crouching caped figure straightened and activated a device attached on its
belt. Help was on its way.
Something was done to this man. Something terrible.
This man had a name, Donald McGlenn. A rich businessman, undoubtedly corrupt.
He was well known in the city’s poorer parts to be a very easy sugar daddy.
Just last week he was seen in one of Bruce Wayne’s parties with his arms draped
around two exotic beauties.
Bruce had grown tired of him bragging about his newest sport car collection,
but Bruce had still seen him kiss and grope the women in his arms every once in
a while, disgustingly unashamed of the noises they’d make.
What was a man like him doing here? Where was his army of bodyguards he had
spent thousands of dollars on? What has happened to the flock of dames he
usually carried around like pets?
The Bat looked up at the tell-tale red and blue lights accompanied by the wail
of sirens. That would be the commissioner with an ambulance. McGlenn needed
medical attention as soon as possible, his heart beat was beginning to falter.
Gordon would know the necessary protocol from here.
The dark form quickly melted back into the shadows before Gordon's men arrived,
his work was far from finished. He waited a moment longer to listen as the men
murmured surprised whispers to each other. It wasn't difficult to recognize the
man who was currently being dragged into the ambulance.
“Oh my God.”
“That’s McGlenn. What did they do to him?”
“This city's sick, man. It just is.”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” That was the commissioner's firm commanding
voice, trying to reassure his men. “This must be the work of one of those
lunatics. I’ll check with Arkham if any of their patients are missing, and I’ll
tell them to double check if Mr. Crane is where he’s supposed to be.”
At first glimpse, it did look like the work of Crane. But he knew that the
Scarecrow specializes in fear, and this man was not afraid. He’s in shock. It
looked more like he had been tortured. Was McGlenn hallucinating? No, it did
not look like it. But they couldn't be sure until they could do a complete
inquiry.
But the motive? A personal vendetta? A mad obsession? He’ll have to find out.
Just as he was about to touch his intercom, it beeped once.
“Robin to Batman,” A clear voice spoke through the speakers. “I went around
twice now and still found nothing. The streets are practically abandoned. Same
luck on the North side?”
“Something came up,” His voice was low and serious. This was the no-joking-
around voice he used when it’s all business. “Meet me back at the Batmobile, we
need to discuss this.”
Robin must have gotten the hint, because his previous goofiness was gone. “Be
right there. Robin out.”
The ride back to the Batcave was spent trying to explain the unusual lack of
crime the latest incident that came up. Robin had suggested a few scenarios
where McGlenn was blackmailed and lured out of his mansion to pay it off.
Afterwards he was injected with a strong drug to cause his current predicament.
“We’re not sure if it’s going to be anything permanent yet.” The boy continued.
“If it is, then that’s a sure fire way to keep the man from talking.” Robin’s
story was rough and frayed around the edges, but it was not easy to conclude
anything from so precious little.
“If they wanted to silence him, they could have just killed him.” The Bat
pointed out. The biggest mystery of this whole thing was its motive. No crime
could be solved until a motive was found, unless it was the work of a madman.
But McGlenn was an idiot and the enemies he had only ranged from jealous ex-
girlfriends to irritated party hosts. Nothing as dangerous as the other cases
Batman had dealt with.
 Robin looked over at his mentor. His eyes were hidden behind his mask but his
lips were pouted in frustration.
“Do you think this is somehow connected to the fact that Gotham is so quiet?”
The Boy Wonder piped in. The city has indeed been much too quiet for the last
two days. Batman mentally listed all the possibilities for such circumstances.
None of them seemed to be relevant for what happened to McGlenn.
“We’ll have to wait for what the doctors say of his case to be sure.” Batman
reached into his belt to hand the boy a glass vial. “A blood sample, in case he
was drugged.” The boy scrutinized the dark liquid as if he would get an answer
just by looking.
“I want you to run a complete analysis on the sample. Double check with
Scarecrow’s fear toxins and any other kind of chemical that activates the
stress-inducing regions of the brain.” They were just speeding through one of
the cave’s hidden entrances and Robin was already beginning to unbuckle
himself.
“Consider it done, Batman.”
As soon as the Batmobile came to a halt in the gloom of the cave, Robin jumped
out in a red and green flurry. The boy’s yellow cape billowed behind him as he
bolted to the cave’s laboratory with the vial tightly clutched in his hand.
Robin was a fast learner, he only had to brief the boy once on how to run a
blood analysis before he was doing it almost perfectly on his own.
Batman remained where he was for a moment until the yellow cape disappeared
around a corner. He admired Robin’s boundless energy, even when the night was
as cold and forbidding as it was tonight, Robin’s enthusiasm was unyielding.
There was nothing to admire about Gotham’s winter nights, they were cold and
lonely. And yet, the young boy had looked at Bruce with shining blue eyes one
day and told him happily that winter was on its way. He had asked his ward
whether he enjoyed the cold, only to watch the boy shake his head.
“Not exactly the cold, no.”
“Then what is there to look forward to?”
“Curling up next to you with a mug of hot chocolate.” Dick had smiled up at him
with such warmth, such candor, it was enough for Bruce to look forward to
winter too, for once. With Dick.
The cowled man sighed and focused back on the task at hand. He still had to
look into McGlenn's activities during the past two weeks, then he would sweep
the city once more, just to be sure. But first, he would check in on the
commissioner.
The Batmobile’s boosters fired in a red and orange blur as the car sped away
into the night.
 
===============================================================================
 
“Donald McGlenn seems to have walked to where he was.” A policeman was saying
in the commissioner’s office, “At least for a mile or so, judging from where
witnesses saw him last. He does not show physical signs of injury or sexual
assault in anyway.”
“Did the doctors get anything out of the man?” Commissioner Gordon was pacing
his office, irritated by the absence of evidence. No fingerprints. No missing
money. No injuries. No letters. No tell-tale phone calls. No motive. No
nothing.
“No, sir. The man is incoherent. They say he’s been traumatized pretty badly.”
“By what, Saunders. By what?” Gordon paced a couple more times before he sat
down on his desk and began rummaging through files busily. McGlenn was a public
icon. This incident could provoke all sorts of unwanted attention from the
media. If the police couldn’t get to the roots of this fast enough, people all
around Gotham would go crazy.
The last thing Gordon wanted was a city-wide panic frenzy.
“You’re dismissed, Officer Saunders.”
The young man walked towards the door before he anxiously looked back his
superior.
“Would you like a cup of coffee, sir?” He tried.
“No thank you, officer. The only thing I need is what this man has to say. Only
if they can get him to talk.” The last part was said more to himself as the
young officer peered uncertainly at him from the doorway.
“Understood. Thank you, sir.” The door closed with a click, and Gordon was left
alone with his thoughts.
The overworked commissioner read over files he knew would tell him nothing
more. It was pointless, but he knew that it was preferred over doing absolutely
nothing. God forbid when they would come to that. A case slowly growing cold
was every cop’s worst nightmare.
“Anything I can do to help, commissioner?” A deep voice came from a dark corner
somewhere behind the his desk.
Startled, Gordon spun around quickly to see a looming figure emerge. Gordon had
these uninvited meetings with Batman often enough to get used to them, but it
still gave him the creeps every time.
 “Not much that we haven’t done already.” The commissioner shook his head
before he spoke again, “I’m beginning to think that maybe this man wasn’t even
assaulted. Maybe this is just one of his latest stunts to get some media
attention. Well, if that’s the case, his plan working just fine.” The
commissioner’s rants were cut short by the other man’s deep voice.
“This was with him when I found him.” The Batman’s gloved hand pushed a
crumpled piece of paper in the commissioner’s direction. There were some words
scribbled on it.
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been
“This must be someone’s sick idea of a joke.” The commissioner looked up into
the hard lines of the cowled face.
“Maybe, we’ll have to see. How’s his condition?”
“He’s not improving. We have relocated him from the emergency room to a
psychiatric ward. They tell me he’s in a sort of trauma. The guy’ll probably
not be well enough to talk for quite some time.”
“Was anything missing from his house?”
“No, nothing. Whoever did this to him got nothing out of it.” Gordon sighed,
“I’m telling you, it was not done for a sane reason. Everything points out to
the work of a maniac, but none of the patients in Arkham are missing.”
The commissioner had started pacing once more, “Damn it! We don’t even know
what happened to the man.” Gordon spun around on his heel in irritation, and
began rummaging through the police reports again.
“If this is the work of another psychotic maniac, then nobody is safe until he
is safely behind bars in Arkham. Maybe we should-” He sighed again as he saw
that he had been talking to nothing but the shadows in his office. 
“Man, I do hate it when he does that.” The commissioner muttered as he set back
to reading through reports.
The hours Batman had spent patrolling were fruitless, and the precious few
leads he thought he had were proven to be nothing but empty speculations.
He had swept through McGlenn’s house twice and the only thing he learned was
that the man was expected to come to a gala that Thursday. It was a gala funded
by Bruce Wayne, another dead-end. Somewhere along the way Robin had called to
tell him that the only other thing in McGlenn’s blood was alcohol.
Robin had already insisted to call it a night when he was doing his 3rd sweep
through the city. On the 5th, he finally admitted that the Batman was not going
to be of much use that night. It felt wrong to just do nothing and wait, but
there was no other alternative. Besides, Bruce Wayne had a meeting at 9 the
next day and Dick Grayson had school at 8.
Back in the moist air of the Batcave, he found that Dick had busied himself
with reading through police reports and documents on the main computer’s
database. From the way the boy was chewing on his bottom lip in agitation, he
knew that his search was as just fruitless.
“Anything to report, Robin?” The Batmobile’s engine purred to rest as he made
his way to where Robin was seated.
“Nope.” Robin spun around in his chair and threw his hands in the air. “The
only thing fishy about this guy’s life is the amount of women he can land.”
Robin was probably too young to know the things money could do, or what being a
sugar daddy meant. 
“It’s late, Robin, and you have school tomorrow. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
Pulling off his cowl, Bruce sat at his own over-sized desk to shift through
scattered files. Robin was quiet for a few seconds before he began peeling his
own mask off.
“And what will you do?” Dick’s clear voice cut through the cave’s chill. Bruce
turned to see his ward looking at him intently. Blue eyes wide as they waited
for an answer. He suddenly looked so small sitting in the middle of this dark,
morbid cave.
I still have somethingsto go through, was hanging on the tip of his tongue, but
something held him back from just saying it. Maybe it had something to do with
the way Dick was looking up at him, or maybe it was just the nagging thought
that he would find nothing in those files anyway.
“Will you tuck me into bed tonight? Alfred’s probably asleep by now.” Baby-blue
eyes still bore into his, glimmering hopefully up at him. It was that moment
that he noticed how… unusual Dick’s eyes were. They held the promise of the
brightness Dick always brought with him, but somewhere deep within, there was
also pain.
And he hated seeing it there. Hated seeing the boy in any kind of pain. Hated
the very thought of Dick being hurt. All he wanted to do was to take the small
boy in his arms and soothe all his qualms away, to have Dick look at him with
his brilliant blue eyes and smile.
All he wanted was to know that Dick was happy.
That Dick was happy here, with him.
Looking into those baby-blue eyes now, he remembered how Dick’s small face had
looked like with streaks of tears wetting his cheeks. How his voice quivered as
sobs racked his small body.
Never. He would never allow anything hurt Dick that way again.
But the damage had been done. Bruce’s biggest regret was that he would never
know how Dick’s eyes looked like without the pain there.
Then he was almost overwhelmed by the memory of Dick smiling up at him. A small
and sweet smile that showed him just how much Dick trusted, and needed, him. In
those smiles, Bruce could hope.
For some reason, he just couldn’t say no.
 
===============================================================================
 
Dick’s pajamas were pale blue, and he smelled of the chocolate milk Bruce had
brought him.
Bruce didn’t know why he hadn’t just called Alfred to bring the boy his
chocolate milk, he knew the butler wasn’t actually asleep yet. Neither did he
know why he had stayed to sit on the edge of Dick’s bed.  Perhaps it was the
way Dick would curl up in his blankets and sip at the hot liquid.
“Bruce?”
“Yes, Dick.”
“Tell me a story.” Dick was beaming up at him, with those eyes and that smile.
“A story? What kind of story?”
“That one.” Dick pointed at a single book that rested on his nightstand. It
wasn’t one of the books Bruce had bought him, it was one of the few possessions
Dick had brought with him when he left the circus. Along with the book, the
young boy had also brought a framed picture of him and his parents, his last
Flying Grayson uniform, and a stuffed elephant.
Bruce was not supposed to know that Dick hid his stuffed elephant under the
bed, but he noticed one night when he came in to check on the boy and found him
sleeping with the elephant wrapped in his small arms. It had been the second
night Dick spent at the manor and Bruce was worried that the boy might have
been plagued with nightmares.
Afterwards, he had made sure to tell Alfred not to move the toy from its hiding
place whenever the butler would tidy his room.
The book was a children’s picture book, probably something Dick’s mother used
to read him when he was much younger. The pages of the book were worn and the
pictures were slightly faded. Bruce wondered just how many times Dick’s mother
had read him this story in the past before… before that night in the circus
tent.
Bruce frowned slightly to himself as he held the book in his hands. He wasn’t
sure how this was supposed to go. The memories of his own mother reading him
story books were clouded and fuzzy, but he did remember all the times his
mother gave him a good night kiss. Somewhere deep down, Bruce knew he missed
them, but on most occasions, he tried not thinking about them too much.
“There was once a little bird that lived high up in a tree.” He started
tentatively, and a giggle escaped the young boy as he wriggled deeper into his
blankets.
Bruce read the story as best as he could, the frail book felt awkward in his
hands and his voice sounded hollow when he spoke. As he continued, he was
rewarded with the sight of Dick’s content little smile as his eyes slowly began
to close.
And that was compensation enough, more than enough.
Dick was smiling sleepily when he finished the story, his lids were fluttering
with the effort to stay awake. Bruce took the empty glass from the boy’s small
hands and placed it on the nightstand for Alfred to clear away in the morning.
Dick was already half-asleep when Bruce tucked the small boy more comfortably
into the thick blankets.
“I had always wondered what it was like to live in a tree.” Dick murmured into
his pillow.
“Good night, Dick.” Bruce stroked the side of Dick’s head, carding his fingers
lazily through soft, silken hair. A smile found its way on Bruce’s face as he
felt the young boy lean into his touch. This was how he’ll always want to see
Dick. Safe and happy. 
“G’night, Bruce.”  The boy mumbled.
Bruce couldn’t resist to press a kiss into the boy’s temple. Dick was so
beautiful when he was happy. The skin beneath his lips was warm and smelled of
soft blankets and chocolate. He lingered for a heartbeat before pulling away.
Dick’s eyes were closed and his pink lips were curled into a drowsy smile.
Yes, this was how he would always want to see Dick.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
He would never admit it, but that night, sleep eluded him. His mind was filled
with a whirlwind of fleeting images. The silence was too loud and he was
constantly reminded of how big his bed was.
How big and empty it was.
But above all, it was the hollow ache deep in his chest that left him restless
and wide awake.
He would never admit it, but until dawn, he spent the rest of the night hidden
in the shadows on the outside of a window. Just watching. 
 
Chapter End Notes
     That note left with McGlenn was from a poem by Edgar Allan Poe called
     The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour. Just in case you would like to
     check the rest out.
     Again, please leave any burning comments or questions in the comment
     section. I really appreciate any kind of feedback. :)
***** Of Galas and Frustration *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                 Chapter Four
                           Of_Galas_and_Frustration 
                                        
It was Thursday, two days after Donald McGlenn was found on the streets. Batman
had been keeping an almost-continual watch on the man. Murder was not exactly
the most feasible theory at the moment, but it was still too early to be sure
about anything. It was always better to be safe than sorry, and if there was
one thing Bruce knew about killers, it was that they never left a job
unfinished.
They simply couldn't afford to be ignorant at this point.
Psychiatrists in charge of McGlenn had reported that he was beginning to show a
little improvement. When encouraged enough, the man had even managed to form
short, but coherent, sentences. It would still be at least three weeks before
he could be questioned about the case, which meant that it would also still be
three weeks before Batman could get the answers they needed.
To make the wait all the more agonizing, the city was still disturbingly quiet
by its standards. They had only come across a few desperate teenagers trying to
house-break, and a violent alcoholic who just got dumped by his girlfriend.
Bruce noted that they were both spontaneous acts, not the premeditated crimes,
ranging from drug extortions to arms dealing to illegal human trafficking,
which usually ran rampant in Gotham. Nearly four entire days without a single
hint of any major crime had begun to make him very, very worried.
He had taken precautionary steps the previous night and questioned a handful of
men who he knew worked for the biggest crime syndicates in town. He was sure at
least half of them were supposed to make a move in the course of that week, and
yet, all of them had sworn they were staying down for the time being, that they
were “honest-to-God” not planning anything. Some of them even went so far as to
say that they were clean for good now.
Held under the unwavering glare of the Bat, they were bound to be afraid,
especially if the Bat had thatdangerous edge to his growl and had his
gauntleted hand wrapped tight around their throats. Some of them turned ghostly
pale, some of them cried, some even fainted when the Bat’s eyes narrowed to an
unforgiving squint. And yet, the only thing he learned from an entire night of
doing nothing else but scaring the wits out of scum, was that every single one
of them were hiding something behind the tremor in their voices.
From the way the men refused to tell him anything despite the way they were
begging and pleading for him to let go, this thing they were afraid of was
obviously something they feared even more than the black, towering figure of
the Bat. Not many would have preferred to face the Dark Knight’s fury over a
relatively simpler confession.
He was sure, by then, that somebody or something had threatened these men to
keep their mouths shut. The most likely theory was that a very big crime
organization was behind this whole affair. Not many individual men had the
influence or power enough to keep a city the size of Gotham quiet.
And he was convinced that this had everything to do with what happened to
Donald McGlenn.
Bruce had spent hours staring at criminal records, trying to find some kind of
a lead as to what was going on. All his efforts were futile. Both Batman and
the ever-determined boy wonder came up with nothing. It was beginning to get on
his nerves. And Gordon’s.
The mayor had been anything but pleased with the recent turn of events and he
had been nothing but impatient to get results out of the police commissioner as
fast as possible. As if Gordon wasn’t already under enough pressure.
There was one last lead that could possibly give them any answers. The chances
were slim, but there weren't many other things to go on. He had this nagging
dread that it was just a matter of time before they would find a second victim.
He wasn't entirely too happy with the idea that they were running out of
options, and particularly not if the remaining option meant having to use his
rich-playboy persona.
“Maybe if you didn’t look as if you’ll bite my fingers off any second, I’ll be
more convinced you’re actually going to a gala.” A sunny, clear voice came from
behind him as he strode into the living room. He was dressed to perfection,
Alfred had seen to that.  Every inch of his being screamed ‘rich’, ‘playboy’
and ‘elite’. His hair was slicked back, and the particular shade of black of
his suit complimented the blue of his eyes charmingly, or, at least, Alfred had
said so. This was the look many of Brucie’s peers described as ‘deliciously
irresistible’, but the only thing Dick seemed to notice was the dangerous glint
he had in his eyes.
“This gala is one of the last places McGlenn was supposed to make an appearance
in.” The low, guarded voice that came from the dazzling figure of Brucie, the
air-headed womanizer, seemed terribly out of place. “There may be something
there.”
Dick was lounging in a couch, one leg tucked beneath him and the other dangling
idly over the edge. Next to him was a wide plate filled with Alfred’s peanut
butter cookies, fresh from the oven. He was lazily flipping through the pages
of a comic book as he glanced at the bigger man.
“Aw… c’mon, Bruce. Those galas of yours can’t possibly have any more use than
to chatter about Gotham’s latest gossip.” The comic book hid the smirk that
formed on Dick’s lips, but Bruce could still see mischief glimmer in the boy’s
baby-blue eyes.
“One of my guests may know something that we don’t, Dick. McGlenn could have
confided in one of his acquaintances about any threats, or blackmail.”
“Well, I hope you’re right, Bruce.” The boy mumbled through a mouthful of
cookie as he placed his comic away. Their eyes locked for the briefest moment,
but that was all it took for Bruce to have seen the depth of trust in Dick’s
eyes.
Bruce turned and walked away. It had been six long months since the very first
time Dick looked at Bruce with those big, trusting eyes. Six months, and they
still startled Bruce every time.
He would remember their first meeting for as long as he lived, of that he was
sure. He could never forget the lost, heartbreaking wails Dick made as he knelt
beside the broken bodies of what used to be his mother and father. His eyes
were squeezed shut, as if by not seeing he could make everything just…
disappear.
With every wrecking sob, Bruce could feel an old, deep wound being ripped open
all over again. He wasn’t sure what drove him to wrap his arms around the
slight frame, perhaps it was the way the boy had seemed so small and alone in
the colorful circus tent. Or perhaps it was because he knew that behind the
boy’s tears was not only grief. There was anger.
He willed Dick to know that there was someone out there who understood, someone
who cared. But despite all he knew, Bruce never expected what happened next.
Never understood why he deserved it. Dick buried his face into his chest and
desperately clung on to him, a complete stranger.
From all the people in the tent, some were old friends who knew him all his
life, the boy clung unto Bruce. Dick trusted Bruce. He just did. From the very
beginning.
Bruce was walking towards the front doors where, just outside, Alfred was
waiting patiently next to a shining black Porsche, when Dick’s sunny voice made
him stop in his tracks.
“Have fun.” The dark-haired boy added with a smile so bright it was hard to
believe otherwise.
 
===============================================================================
 
“Oh, Brucie! I insist that you mustdance with me.” A blonde beauty in five-inch
high stilettos and a dress that barely hid anything was practically pulling at
his arm. Her lips were so close to his ear he could almost feelthe sickening
stickiness of her blood-red lipstick. Darlene, he thought her name was. Not
that it really made a difference. “It’s such a perfectnight for a dance.”
“I beg to disagree!” The blonde hanging on his other arm whined. “I think my
Brucie would much rather dance with me.” She said as she pressed the swell of
her breasts into the length of his arm.
“Darlene, Jolie,” The handsome playboy said nonchalantly. “why don’t I fetch
the both of you something to drink first?” The smile he flashed could dazzle
and leave every woman in the hall star-truck. And it served its purpose well,
because the two ladies just swooned after him as he untangled himself from
their grasp and headed towards the bar.
This was how most of the night passed. It was either being tailed by an
infatuated flock of Gotham’s most beautiful or chatting to the most elite, yet
preposterous men. This was not his exact idea of fun, although his playboy
persona was supposed to be having the time of his life.
After two hours of prodding and prying several of McGlenn’s associates, he gave
up on the notion completely. It turned out that none of them had even spoken to
the man the day prior to the incident. McGlenn was not the type of person
people would want to call for a friendly chat.
Determined that he couldn’t find anything in his guests that night, Bruce
decided to focus his attention on other problems, such as the petite girl
effectively dragging him to a more secluded part of the building. She wasn’t
completely bad to look at, with dark brown hair that flowed down to her perky
breasts and over to the curve of her ass. Tiffany. Bruce recalled her from the
times he had seen her at various other receptions.
They finally found an unused bathroom in one of the building’s emptier
sections. Tiffany was already pressed flush against him, lips an inch away from
his. Her bubbly, fruity perfume was strong to the point of being almost
overwhelming. His head would reel slightly whenever he took a deep breath of
her scent.
“Bruce,” Her voice was heavy with raw desire. “take me here. Please, Brucie.”
She was half-moaning as she attached her lips onto his. Her tongue was soft and
pliant underneath his own as their kiss became more and more heated.
He snaked his hand over her tiny waist to cup the curve of her ass and gave it
a squeeze. Tiffany squealed in response. Being especially bold, he snaked his
hands further under her mini-skirt and rubbed at the soft material of her
panties.
“Ah, Bruce!” She began rocking into the hand that was rubbing up and down the
silken length of her panties. Even through the fabric, he could feel moist
rapidly soaking through. He pulled away from her hot mouth and began kissing
his way along her jaw.
“Bruce.” She rasped as he slipped a finger into her panties and began massaging
her folds in slow circles. “Now. I want you now.”
“As you wish, darling.” Taking his hands out from under her skirt, he pinned
her petite body against a wall. Her lips were on his again as she began pulling
her panties off.
The kiss was wet and messy, and the porn-star moans escaping her lips were
nothing less than obscene. He began nibbling teasingly on her lower lip and he
felt slender legs wrap around his waist.
At the first contact between his cock’s swollen tip and her dripping wet hole,
he felt her whole body bucking wantonly against his.
Pleasure flooded his senses as he began pushing in. She was stretched so, so,
snugly around him.
Her head was thrown over his shoulder and her nails were leaving crescent-
shaped dents on the back of his neck. With every thrust into the hot wetness,
he could feel the knot low in his stomach gradually getting tighter and
tighter.
With his eyes squeezed shut, all he could feel was carnal bliss that made his
breath come out in ragged shallow gasps. His mind went almost entirely blank
except for the delicious wet friction that came along every deep push.
He groaned as he felt the pressure tightening around him. She came with a high-
pitched scream that echoed through the entire bathroom.
The gush of slippery wetness and sudden tightness that pressed around his
swollen cock made him groan from deep within his chest. His thrusts became
erratic as he felt the knot in his stomach become almost unbearably tight.
A low guttural groan slipped past his lips again. He was so close. The heat
scorching low in his gut was like liquid fire.  When was the last time he got
relief?
He could feel soft hair pressing into the side of his face and feel the press
of a slight figure beneath him. He felt the small body beneath him shudder as
he buried himself in deep, and that was enough to push him off the edge. With a
final hard thrust, he saw white splashes dance around in his vision and he
came. Hard.
Wave after wave of pleasure flooded him. And the only thing he could think
about was the way soft hair nuzzled his neck and the way the small body
squirmed underneath him. He groaned helplessly as he turned his face to inhale
the scent of silken soft hair. The intoxicating, fuzzy, soft-sweet scent that
he so longed for.
Only that it wasn't the intoxicating, fuzzy, soft-sweet scent. It was too
bubbly and too floral. He snapped his eyes open and was surprised to see long,
flowing brown hair.
He blinked in confusion a few times, and pulled back slightly to stare into
hazel eyes.
Blue. Was the only thought he could muster.
He ran his hand through the hair that he was nuzzling just moments ago. The
straight wispy texture felt oddly out of place beneath his fingertips. He
suddenly realized that the body his other hand was caressing somehow felt too
curvy, too feminine…
What?
“Oh, Brucie…” A shrill, breathless female voice sighed. Tiffany. His mind
cleared as he came down from the heights of his orgasm. Tiffany.His conscience
was screaming at him. So what was I…
Bitter shame slowly crept into him as he realized what had just happened. The
brunette still entangled in his arms was not what made him lose himself in a
wild frenzy of lust. It was not flowing, brown hair that he imagined carding
his fingers through. It was not red, lipstick-tinted lips that he wanted to
kiss until they were swollen and raw. It was not hazel eyes he longed to gaze
into.
What am I doing?
His head thrummed with an endless train of questions; questions that he
couldn't possibly answer.
If only he could provide an explanation for what he had just done, then maybe
he wouldn't be so... so… confused.  If only he could understand what this
twisting feeling deep in his chest was.
But he couldn’t. 
 
===============================================================================
 
“Your grilled cheese sandwich, young sir.” Alfred’s cultured voice announced
behind the boy clad in a bright green and red suit. Dick had been busying
himself with an article Batman had asked him to go over. It was about the
rumors going around about a big cocaine shipment coming in from South America.
There really wasn’t anything new there which they weren’t already aware of. The
things they did need to know (like who they were expecting to meet and why they
decided to act again tonight after 4 days being dormant) were still a big
mystery.
‘Nothing’ was not exactly the kind of thing Bruce would want to hear him
report, especially not in the mood Bruce was in. But on hearing the butler, the
boy spun around in his chair to abandon his research and pounced on the warm
sandwich.
“Thanks, Alfred.” He said right before he took a big bite off of the crunchy
bread and molten cheese.
“You are most welcome young sir. Any luck with the latest narcotics case?” The
butler asked politely.
“Nothing new, just the usual. A really big load is supposed to come later
tonight. Sometime around midnight. It doesn’t look like they’re going to change
their plans, although I’m still not sure who they are bringing it to.” Robin’s
lips formed a slight pout even as he continued munching on the sandwich. “It’s
tough to find any leads with all the crooks in town deciding to stay put and
get their beauty sleep.”
“Well, I must admit I am not entirely unhappy to hear that. Perhaps those
‘crooks’ you speak of have finally taken the time to consider and choose their
next actions more wisely.”
“I really don’t think that’s the case this time, Al. This doesn't really feel
right.” Dick whipped around to look over at the dark, brooding figure sitting
in the other corner of the cave. Alfred had to repress a smile at the sight of
bread crumbs covering the young boy’s cheeks as he addressed his mentor.
“Further instructions, captain?”
There was no smile or humor in the hard lines of the Bat’s glare. But Dick
being Dick, his goofy smile didn't waver in the slightest.
“The Docks.” The low growl was the only answer Dick got.
The boy was distracted for a second by Alfred handing him a napkin to wipe at
his face, and the next thing he knew, he heard the Batmobile roar to life.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.” Yellow cape swishing behind him, Robin leaped
to the Batmobile with a “Grumpy much?” muttered as a farewell to the unruffled
butler. Alfred only raised an eyebrow as he watched after Gotham’s two
protectors.
“You didn't tell me what you found at that gala yet.” The boy wonder asked as
soon as they were speeding through the darkened streets of Gotham.
Bruce came back a little after nine that night, which was very early by Bruce’s
standards. The only thing he did before heading straight down to the cave was
throw the smuggling-rumors report in Dick’s direction along with a harsh “Read
over those,” snapped at him. Down in the cave, Batman had not spoken another
word to him or even glanced at him.
Dick hadn't really gotten the chance to ask him about the gala.
“Anything that might be helpful?” he tried again.
The boy didn't notice, but under the heavy leather of the Bat’s gauntlets,
knuckles turned white as big hands tightened their grip on the wheel, but what
Robin did notice was the terrifying intensity of his mentor’s glare. The white
lenses were like flints of ice and the hard line of the Bat’s mouth was
contorted into a bitter scowl.
The other profound thing the young boy noticed was the silence that followed.
The Bat was glowering at the road unblinkingly and showed no signs of
acknowledging his ward.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He shrugged and dismissed his mentor’s cold demeanor,
although he couldn't prevent the unhappy pout that came with the small, sharp
twinge in his chest. He managed to plaster a poker-face just a split second
later, but the older man must have noticed anyway because he flashed a glance
at Dick and growled a brusque: “No, nothing useful.”
“Alright.” Robin said and smiled warmly at the looming figure next to him. He
was more than a little relieved to finally hear Bruce say something, no matter
how brief or harsh it was.
The retort Batman barked back at Dick might have sounded rude or downright
hostile to others, but Dick knew that for now, that was the most he’ll ever get
out of Bruce.
The wide grin the boy was sporting was nothing he could repress.
 
===============================================================================
 
Batman was scowling through a pair of binoculars while Robin crouched beside
him, alert for any impeding danger. The nights were getting progressively
colder and to accommodate the rapidly decreasing temperature, his Robin suit
had been remodeled to a warmer one.  For one, his legs weren’t bare anymore.
The green tights he now wore were made of insulated leather, and they annoyed
him more than he cared to admit. They made his skin feel hot and tight whenever
he bent his knees. All throughout his career as an acrobat his outfits were
always legless, but Dick was well aware that being a little uncomfortable was
still better than having his legs freeze off in the biting cold.
The chilly wind that blew into their faces smelled of salt and sand. The sea
was nothing but a churning black body of water against the smoky skyline. Robin
squinted through his domino mask for the first signs of the ship bringing its
illegal cargo to the docks of Gotham. It was too dark for him to make out
anything more than the grim flicker of waves on the water’s surface.
“They should be here by now.”
Again, the only answer the boy got was complete silence. Batman was barely more
than a liquid shadow flowing smoothly in the blowing wind. The only part
identifiable as anything more than a silhouette was the eerie white glow of his
lenses.
"They are.” The quiet rumble of the Bat could have easily been registered as
the wild crashing sounds of the waves against the concrete dock. “Cover the
East side.”
Before Robin had any time to respond, the dark shadow beside him was gone in
the slightest whisper of a breeze.  Pushing all his other thoughts to the back
of his mind, Robin leapt down from their vantage point and descended into a
hidden spot behind some crates. He made sure that all his blind spots were
visible from where Batman was at, and that he had a clear exit path.
He went through all the important things Bruce had taught him in the past six
months about busting a drug deal. Wait for the right moment. Don’t rush it.
Stay hidden until they anchor down and unload the goods.
By then, he could see the dark outline of the slowly approaching ship. It was
obvious that the ship was trying its best not to get caught by the coast-guard.
But even these South Americans should know that where the police fail, Batman
and Robin will compensate. Right?
Soon enough the ship had anchored itself and a couple of men could be seen
quietly hustling and bustling around. They were wary and nervous, but not
suspecting. It’s an advantage when the men do not suspect your presence. Use
the element of surprise to daze them from counterattacking.
This would be easy.
They waited a couple more minutes until the men began hauling crates from the
ship, then Batman gave the sign.
The only thing the frightened eyes of the men saw was a massive pitch-black
silhouette rapidly descending onto them before they were knocked into oblivion.
A couple more unlucky ones had to bear full witness to the ghastly glare of the
Bat’s glowing-white lenses before they, too, fell to the hard concrete ground.
On the East side, the only thing the men saw was a red and green blur of motion
before a swift blow would make their legs fail beneath them. Don’t waste your
time on one target. Keep moving.
Robin was untouchable with his speed as he weaved through the flanks of men.
Use your speed against them. Keep moving.Every perfectly executed maneuver
preceded another one without a moment’s pause. Later, the men would swear that
the whirlwind of constant motion must have consisted of at least five people.
Never let your guard down.  
Robin leaped and twisted mid-air to take two bewildered men out, then spun
behind another two before they even registered what was going on. He felt his
muscles beneath the skin-tight leather flex and strain as he lurched from one
spot to the other. Every instinct of his acrobat-career buzzed to life again.
It was almost frighteningly thrilling.
The boy wonder looked more like he was in the middle of a graceful, swift-paced
dance than he was actually fighting. The persistent smirk on the boy’s lips did
not make the latter case anymore believable.
A tell-tale metallic click told him that the rest of the men had been alerted
about the commotion on the docks. Reinforcement had arrived. There will be
guns. Don’t panic, never panic. Keep moving.
Not that a couple more nerve-wrecked men could ever stop the boy wonder.
Robin heard someone yell, “Hold it right there, punk!” before a hurricane of
gunshots were aimed at him. Count shots. Wait for a break when they reload.
Dodging the bullets was easy. The darkness made it all the more difficult to
hit a perpetually moving target. Judging from the strength of the shots and the
time interval between each shot, the guns the men were using were just semi-
automatic pistols.
Slipping back into the shadows behind a couple of crates, he used the momentary
distraction when the men had to reload their clips.
“Where’d he go!?” One of them said as the gunners realized their target had
disappeared. Their eyes darted from side to side frantically in hope to find
the boy. Exploit their backs. Gunners will not expect to be attacked from
behind.
“Peek a boo,” was the last thing the men heard before they felt a sharp blow to
the back of their heads. “Decided to doze off so early? Well, I guess it is way
past your bedtime.” Robin almost beamed at the array of unconscious men lying
scattered on the ground.
On the other side of the dock, Batman currently had a very frightened man
dangling by the front of his collar.
“I- I don’t know! God, I swear! I don’t know.” The man was stammering
frantically as his eyes went so wide with fear Robin thought they would never
close again.
Even from such a distance, Robin could see that the man’s jaw was dislocated
and that the angry swelling on one shoulder must have hurt like hell. And on
closer inspection, Robin realized that the man had every one of his fingers
broken. He also saw a dark, wet gleam of trickling blood flowing from a deep
cut in between his ribs.
“Do you think this is some kind of game?” The low snarl made the man wince and
splutter, only to be cut short as Batman’s grip tightened. “Are you telling me
that you went here to bring about half a ton of cocaine without even knowing
who you are dealing with?” The white slivers of the Bat’s glare would make any
adult man cry for his mother. “Who are you going to meet?”
“T-T-Thurston! Alright, Thurston! We were gonna meet with Thurston. Robert
Thurston!”
“I don’t see him anywhere around the docks tonight.” Batman’s voice was
dripping with such scorn and bitterness, even Robin winced a little.
“Well, I-I don’t know! Honest!” The poor man was crying by now. He tried his
best to speak in between ragged sobs. “He said he was gonna be here at
midnight, but he didn't show.” Batman’s grip tightened again, and it was tight
enough to begin suffocating the man off his oxygen.
“P-please! He told us he would come pick the goods up and pay the money off.  I
ain’t have no idea why he didn't! Just, please! Let me go. Please!”
Batman roughly dropped the man with a last warning glare. The man just sat
there, broken and battered on the ground staring huge-eyed as the Bat melted
back into the shadows.
Robin had already gone back to their earlier vantage point. Soon, the police
would come and sort the rest of the mess up. Commissioner Gordon was well aware
of the whereabouts of this latest drug shipment and would handle everything on
his own from here.
For now, Robin was worried enough by the way most of the men lay almost
crippled all around the docks. To be precise, the men on the West side. The men
on Batman’s side.
Some of them had their ribs, hip or shoulders crushed, some of them had their
jaws hanging limply at odd angles, and some of them were even coughing up gobs
of blood. The tortured wails and groans from the men below told Dick that they
were in serious pain. This was a little too harsh. Even for the Dark Knight of
Gotham.
“Batman, are you alright?” He asked as soon as the cowled figure appeared
beside him from the shadows. He must admit that he was a more than just
slightly concerned. Not only had Bruce been inscrutably bitter half of the
night, but Dick knew better than to ignore the dark glint that had taken
residence deep within those midnight-blue eyes.
It wasn’t exactly the rarest thing to see his guardian in a foul mood, but
usually he would never allow it to affect their nocturnal occupation. Batman
had one of the strictest moral codes Dick had ever come across, and what the
Dark Knight had just done was too close to breaking it than was convenient.
Robin wasn’t exactly worried about the injured thugs lying scattered on the
docks, that was probably the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was
worried about the man that hid behind the hard lines of the cowl. He was
worried about Bruce.Not Brucie Wayne, not Batman.
Bruce, just Bruce.
“Batman?”
Again, no answer. And when it did come, it was all business.
“They were expecting Thurston, one of Thorne’s men,” No sentiment. No feelings.
No nothing. Just a low, dark voice uttered against the sea’s howling wind. “He
was never going to show.”
A long pause. Robin knew not to ask how he could be so certain of that,
definitely not in the mood he was in. But Robin still cocked his head in the
Bat’s direction to ask for further explanation. They weren't facing each other
before, and the gesture was frankly just a lame excuse to steal a glance at the
Bat’s expression. Half of it may be hidden by the cowl and the other half may
have been painstakingly disciplined not to show any kind of emotion whatsoever,
but during the six months Dick had lived at the manor he had learned how to
look through layer after layer of pretense and steal fleeting glimpses of the
person that lay beneath them. Glimpses of Bruce.
Sometimes, hardly ever, Dick really thought he could see pride in the way
Batman would face him for just a second. Or, sometimes, he thought he could see
humor glimmer in Bruce’s eyes whenever Dick puns or cracks a joke.
Dick even thought once that he saw a certain tenderness in the way the older
man would gaze at him. But most of time, Bruce remained at a distance.
Dick had to admit that it frustrated him. He wanted to know what Bruce was
going through. All Dick wanted was just to be there with him. For him.
This time, however, Robin was not granted the luxury of seeing his face. Batman
turned his broad back on the younger boy as soon as he turned to look at him.
The silence stretched for a little while longer before the Bat finally rasped a
low:
“Thurston was afraid of something.”
“The same something that has been scaring the rest of them?”
The silence that followed told Dick that it was best not to ask any more
questions that night. But something from the caped figure’s demeanor as he
stood completely still, overlooking the docks littered with crippled men, also
told him that the scowl on his face was not meant for the smugglers.
It wasn't even meant for Dick. Batman, noBruce, was angry at himself.
Dick stole another glance at his mentor, he didn't even bother to hide the
concern shining in his eyes, but the only thing he could see was the heavy
material of Batman’s long cape swirling in the wind as he waited for Gordon to
arrive with his men.
After painfully long minutes spent waiting in uneasy silence, the wail of the
police’s sirens came somewhat as a relief. But Dick didn't really feel any
better. For some reason, the weight that had settled on him just got heavier.
 
===============================================================================
 
Back at the cave, Batman went over the case once more. Dick listened
attentively as Bruce briefed him through every possible theory.
Rupert Thorne was a man of his word and would never ditch such a big load
unless, of course, if something had him tied up. What Dick understood from
reading Rupert Thorne’s case files, was that not many people in this world
could keep him from getting what he wanted.
And how did this all connect to McGlenn? They didn't know. There were simply
too many loose ends, and not enough evidence.
The rest of the night was spent in complete silence.
“Forgive me for interrupting, sirs,” Alfred’s cool voice sounded from behind
them, “but I believe Bruce Wayne is expected to make an appearance at a social
meeting at 9 in the morning tomorrow. Or should I say, today, since it is
already a couple of hours past midnight.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” That was the first time Dick had heard Bruce’s voice in
hours.
He watched his guardian make his way to the staircase that led to the main
building. Dick was waiting, no, hoping for Bruce to say something. Anything at
all. He just needed reassurance that everything was alright.
But all Dick got was a terse: “Go to bed, Dick.” before the other man
disappeared out of Dick’s line of sight. Not so much as a goodnight or good
bye. This was definitely not the first time Dick was treated so coldly, but it
still caused a hollow ache stir his insides.
Everything is going to be alright, right?
Dick stared at the towering stairs that led to the secured door in the cavern’s
wall, and tried to remember the way Bruce’s big hand felt ruffling his hair. It
felt… it felt warm.And it made him happy. Then he remembered how those same
hands comforted him and held him.
Bruce made him feel safe, made him feel wantedagain. Then, out of nowhere, the
painful question seemed to present itself.
What wasDick really doing there?
Bruce… Bruce didn't exactly need him. If anything, Dick was just slowing him
down.
“Is there anything bothering you, young Master?” Alfred’s kind voice distracted
him from anymore hurtful questions, which he honestly didn’t want to know the
answer to.
“No, Al. It’s just- this must really sound stupid. It’s just that Bruce seems
to be so distant today. I- I don’t know what happened, but Bruce has barely
spoken or even looked at me all night.”
“Well, we both know that Master Bruce is quite too often not pleased with how
things are. But I can assure you, young sir, that his vexation is not directed
at you.”
“I really do hope so.” Dick looked down at his green leather boots. The
patterns on the leather were suddenly very interesting. “I just- you know. It’s
worse than usual this time. He has beaten most of the guys to a pulp before.
You should’ve seen him, Alfred.” Alfred raised an eyebrow at this, but remained
silent.
“It’s kind of hard to admit, Al,” Dick sighed sadly, his bright blue eyes cast
down and unhappy, “but it hurts me more than I ever realized when Bruce is like
this.”
 “Please do not take this too personally, dear boy.” Alfred’s eyes were kind
and his small smile told Dick that the man understood. “The last thing Master
Bruce would want is to see you upset or hurt in anyway. I don’t suppose I must
remind you that Master Bruce only wants what is best for you. In fact, I
believe that may even be an understatement. From what I have observed, Master
Bruce is more than just a little fond of having you in his company.”
That last part surprised Dick, mostly because it sounded so… strange to hear
out loud. Dick thought that it would always be a little weird to speak about
Bruce’s feelings so openly. Then again, this was Alfred. Nothing escaped the
man. Nothing.
“Really?” Dick smiled a little sheepishly at the old butler and felt his cheeks
warm up. He must have been blushing. “Well, I like spending time with him too.”
He added, feeling the heat spread to the tips of his ears.
“But then why- what happened?” Dick’s smile dropped, “Do you think it would be
a good idea if asked him about it? I- I want to help, Alfred.”
“Who could ever tell what bothers him, young sir? Don’t worry, everything will
be alright.” Alfred smiled down kindly at the young boy and rested a reassuring
hand on his shoulder. “If you prefer, Master Dick, I will speak to him first
come morning. But for the mean time, I believe it would be wiser to give him
some time to himself first.”
“Thanks Al, that would be really nice.” Dick smiled back at the old butler and
desperately hoped what he said was true. If time was all Bruce needed, then
Dick was prepared to give him all the time he could possibly need. Maybe Dick
had just been overreacting.
Everything will be better in the morning.Dick told himself.
Bruce was probably just frustrated about the McGlenn case.
“Now, why don’t you take a hot shower and change into something more
appropriate for bed? Tomorrow is another school day.” 
Chapter End Notes
     Hey, guys :D What did you think of this chapter? As usual, questions
     and comments are always very welcome.
***** Of School Mates and Gossip *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you for staying loyal to this story :D Hope you'll enjoy this
     chapter!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
                                  Chapter Five
                          Of_School_Mates_and_Gossip
                                        
Bye, Alfred.” Dick waved his hand at the old butler waiting patiently beside a
sleek white Mercedes. A Mercedes.Dick still thought it was a little too much to
bring him to school in a Mercedes. Not only did he have to deal with the looks
the other kids gave him, but he also missed walking home with the late autumn
breeze blowing in his face and the smell of wet earth around him. But of
course, Bruce insisted on giving him a fifteen minute lecture on how going to
school in a Mercedes would save them both a lot of trouble.
It all sounded perfectly reasonable coming from Bruce, but Dick still wanted to
walk home from school once in a while. He loved how green and peaceful the area
around Wayne Manor was. Sometimes, he would just sit in the Manor’s immense
garden and watch the sky turn red as the sun began to set. It would be
completely silent except for the chitter of birds and the occasional scuffle of
small rodents in the undergrowth.
He missed living with Haly’s circus. He missed the consistent busy hustle of
the circus he had grown up in, but all the same, he liked how Wayne Manor made
the rest of the world feel so far away. It was almost as if the grounds in the
manor themselves were trapped in time.
Dick tried not to venture too much into which time period exactly the mansion
was trapped in. A small part of him told him that he didn’t really want to
know, but what he did think about, quite often, actually, was that the manor
was certainly beautiful if you looked in all the correct places. 
Maybe someday he would convince Bruce to take a walk with him.
Dick laughed a little sadly at that thought. Maybe someday in a hundred years.
“Goodbye, Master Dick. I wish you a fine day at school.” Alfred said as Dick
took a couple of steps away from the car. “Please do try to remember to eat
your vegetables today, young sir.” He added with the smallest hint of a smile.
“Alright, alright. But only because you promised me that pie.” Dick was going
to walk away, but something kept him.
“Oh, and Alfred…”
“Yes, Master Dick?”
Dick scuffled his feet slightly, suddenly more nervous than he had been in
years. He was not sure how to say this. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to
say.
“How’s Bruce?” Dick blurted out awkwardly and felt the heat rise in his cheeks.
He almost wanted to laugh at how silly he must have just sounded, but when he
saw Alfred hesitate, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. 
“I’m afraid I could not tell you with much certainty, dear boy.” Alfred looked
almost apologetic as he went on, “I hadn’t had an opportunity to speak to him
yet. Master Bruce had left in quite a hurry this morning.”
“That’s alright, Al, you didn’t really have to. Thanks for bothering anyway.”
Dick’s smile was sweet but Alfred still saw the anguish in his big blue eyes.
Alfred thought, with much regret, about how familiar it was to see sadness in a
young boy’s blue eyes. So, so familiar. Much too familiar.
“Please do not fret, young sir. I am certain that Master Bruce would always be
reasonable.”
“I know…. But he’s not upset because of- because of me, is he?” Stupid. Stupid,
stupid. He knew what Alfred would say. Of course, Alfred would say that Bruce
wasn’t. He knew he didn’t even want to hear Alfred say it again, but he just
had to ask.
Alfred looked at him for a long moment. He looked serious, more serious than he
usually was. The old butler reached out a gloved hand and placed it firmly on
the boy’s shoulder.
“No, Master Dick. He is not.”
Despite what he thought earlier, Dick did feel better. Much better.
You’re just overreacting.He told himself again. Alfred was probably right when
he said that Bruce was often upset about all kinds of things. It’s stupid. He
was just being stupid.
But there was something in the way Bruce looked at me-
Dick pushed it all the way to the back of his mind and smiled again. This time,
it reached all the way up to his bright-blue eyes.
“Thanks, Al.” Dick leaned forward and gave the old butler a squeeze around his
waist. “You’re the best.”
“I’m merely doing my job, sir.” Alfred replied in his usual polite manner, but
Dick could hear the warmth behind it. It was almost as if Dick could hearthe
smile in the old butler’s words.
Dick gave Alfred a last goodbye-smile, feeling much better than he did just
moments ago. The Mercedes left the school grounds with an almost inaudible soft
purr. A couple of passing students turned their heads to watch the expensive
car drive off, although they didn’t even spare a glance at the dark-haired boy
standing by himself.
Dick looked on as the car sped away until it disappeared around a bend in the
road. Even then, he just stood there, staring at nothing in particular.
He suddenly felt very alone, despite all the other students around him. He
wasn’t very sure what it was, but something unsettled him. For quite a long
time, he allowed it to linger in his thoughts.
It was when he finally walked into the school’s main hallway that it finally
dawned on him.
He knew it. For sure this time.
Alfred had lied.
 
===============================================================================
 
Dick walked towards his locker, not really paying much attention to the other
students around him. He weaved his way past two boys trying to play football
with a crumpled ball of paper. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bigger
of the two stumble and trip as he tried to catch their paper ball.
Dick barely managed to step aside as the boy fell crashing to the ground,
although a boy with blonde hair who, by chance, was beside him was not as
lucky.
“Ouch!” A startled shout was heard as both boys tumbled to the floor.
“Get off of me, you idiot!” The bigger boy muttered under his breath as he
tried to shuffle back on his feet.
“Are you guys alright?” Dick asked as he stuck a hand out to help the boy on
the floor up. The boy gladly took Dick’s hand and smiled gratefully at him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” 
At his full height, the boy was at least a head taller than Dick was. Despite
his height, he only looked to be about a year older than Dick. But then again,
Dick had always been considered small for his age. Not only in height, but
since he turned ten, his delicate frame became more and more distinguishable
from the other boys his age. Perhaps that was why his mother had always called
him her ‘little robin’.
“He was in my way.” It was obvious from the way he held one of his fists
slightly away from his body that he was on the brink of punching someone in the
face. Dick usually avoided conflicts during school, but this time, he stepped
in front of the boy without actually giving it any thought.
Much to Dick’s relief, the boy seemed to reconsider his actions and relaxed his
balled-up fist, because, honestly Dick wasn’t prepared for that kind of heat.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” The boy sneered a little more in Dick’s direction
before he turned and walked away without another word.
Dick let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He knew he could have
faced  him in a fight, and he was certain that he would even come out as the
winner, but he wasn’t sure how it would affect everything else. He didn’t even
want to begin thinking about how Bruce would have reacted.
“Don’t worry. He’s always a douche like that.” Dick heard the other boy say
from behind him, startling him a little. Dick had nearly forgotten the boy was
standing right behind him.
“Hey, what’s your name?” The blonde boy suddenly piped in, “I don’t think I
ever saw you around here before. Are you new?”
“Yeah.” Dick looked up and smiled brightly, grateful for the distraction. “I’m
Richard, but everyone calls me Dick.”
“I’m Danny. Nice to meet you, Dick.”
Danny reminded Dick a lot of someone he knew back at the circus. They used to
be good friends, but after Dick left, he hadn’t heard from him since. Danny had
the same short, dark-blonde hair and easy-go-lucky nature. It was hard not to
like him.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Danny.” Dick said with a wide grin, when suddenly
the school bells began ringing.
“Geez, I really thought we had a good ten minutes before first class. Will I be
seeing you again anytime soon, Dick?”
“Well, sure. Maybe recess?”
“Alright. Catch you later.” Danny said as he waved Dick goodbye.
His locker was a little way from the main entrance. It was nearly empty except
for the few spare notebooks and pencils he kept there. Every morning it had
become something of a habit to stash his lunch and the textbooks he didn’t need
into his locker.
He glanced at the schedule he had stuck on the inside. First class was Math.
Dick couldn’t suppress a weary sigh. Math. Of all the great ways to start a
day, it had to be Math. To be honest, Dick loved Math. It’s just that Math
classes were nothing but boring. Boring and a huge pain in the neck.
At least I didn’t forget to make my homework today.Dick thought as he made his
way to Math class. Mr. Johnson will certainly call Bruce this time.
It wasn’t really about having Bruce find out that he didn’t make his homework
that worried him. After all, if it came to that, Bruce would have known ages
before Dick even came to Mr. Johnson’s class. It was just that Dick didn’t want
to give Bruce any more trouble. He had probably already given Bruce much more
trouble than he ever deserved. Dick just didn’t think he could face Bruce. It’s
not that he scared.He’s not afraid.He’s just-
He didn’t know.  
Dick had tossed and turned idly for hours in bed the previous night. He just
couldn’t shake the feeling that had clung onto him since they returned to the
cave. He felt cold, despite being bundled up beneath a thick blanket, and his
eyes felt dry like he was going to-
No, he’s not. He was stronger than that. He was Bruce’s brave soldier. He won’t
cry. He. Would. Not. Cry.
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t even close his eyes. Every time he did, he saw
him. Saw him looking at him with that- with that softness.And then, he would
feel the tears threaten to overwhelm him.
He was lonely. He had Mr. Peanut, his stuffed elephant, to keep him company,
but he still felt so alone. He looked over at his door and thought about
walking out of it, across the hall to where Bruce’s room would be. Was Bruce
asleep? Was he even in his bedroom? What would it be like to knock on the heavy
mahogany wood of Bruce’s door and ask him if he could stay there?
He had done it once before. And even then, for a moment, he was afraid for that
Bruce would have turned him down and sent him back to his own room. Instead, he
remembered how big and comforting Bruce’s hands felt. How small and safe he
felt in Bruce’s arms.
That was all he had wanted that night. He wanted Bruce. But Bruce wasn’t there,
and Bruce had been… had been so angrythe entire night. He couldn’t possibly
disturb Bruce. Eventually, Dick fell asleep repeating the things Alfred told
him. Again and again.
Really, the last thing he could possibly want was for Mr. Johnson to call Bruce
to come to school because he didn’t do his homework. Just the thought made his
insides twist.
“Good morning, class.” A loud voice startled Dick out of his daydreams. Mr.
Johnson wore his trademark pale blue shirt and a distractingly colorful tie. He
placed his phone and some papers on the teacher’s desk before turning to the
class.
Mr. Johnson was famous for being an extremely strict and uptight teacher. No
talking, no fun, no games, always submit homework on time and definitely no
food during class.
“Good morning, Mr. Johnson.” The class answered back in a lazy, sort-of broken
synchrony.
Even amidst the chorus of voices, Dick could still make out panicky shuffling
of papers from one corner in the classroom and the rapid thumping of fingers
deftly typing messages into phones, but the most distracting sound was his own
tummy’s soft rumbling. He probably should have eaten some of the pancakes
Alfred had made that morning.
Dick was suddenly reminded of the Snickers bar he had stashed in his pocket
before he left the manor, and it became infinitely more difficult to pay
attention to what Mr. Johnson was saying.
“I hope you had completed your homework, students.” Mr. Johnson said and raised
an eyebrow at the kids who were desperately scrambling to finish.
“You know the rules. Those who didn’t do it, regardless their excuse, will get
detention. And if you already have two strikes on your record, I’ll have to
call your parents. Rules are rules, class. So don’t think you can make me make
an exception.”
“Sir, excuse me.” Someone from the middle of the class raised his hand.
“Yes, Timmy.”
“I… Uh, I…” The boy was trying to look everywhere but Mr. Johnson’s face,
before he swallowed and straightened up. “I wanted to do my homework, but I
don’t know how.”
“Don’t give me that, Timmy. The homework assignment was to copy the questions
from your textbook and solve them. Their answers and explanations can be found
on the last page of your textbook. And even if you still didn’t know how to
solve them, you could have asked me for help.”
“Well, you see… uh…”
“Timmy, this is the 4th time you didn’t do your homework this month. I’ll have
to ask you to come and see me in my office during lunch break. Do you
understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Timmy mumbled in defeat.
Mr. Johnson said something else, but Dick was far too busy trying (and failing)
not to think about the Snickers bar in his pocket. His tummy rumbled again, a
little louder this time. He reallyshould have eaten those pancakes.
“Dale, would you be so kind as to collect the homework?” Mr. Johnson turned to
the boy closest to the teacher’s desk. Dale nodded in silence as he stood up
and began going around the class.
Dale was on the other side of the classroom and Dick had given up his resolve
to safe the Snickers bar for recess. He was simply too hungry and the Snickers
bar was too tempting to resist. Besides, Dick was sitting at the side of the
class and his hands were well hidden by his desk. Mr. Johnson wouldn’t catch
him anyway.
Slowly, Dick pulled the chocolate bar from his pocket and tried to unwrap it
with as little sound as possible. The boy to his right was doodling some
cartoon character. Good, no one was looking in his direction.
With sure fingers, Dick pulled the wrapping off and quickly hid it beneath his
desk. Mr. Johnson had his back facing the class as he wrote a couple of
questions on the board, and Dale was waiting for a boy to find his homework
sheet amidst a mess of other papers.
Dick tried to remember what Bruce had told him about being subtle in your
actions. Act nonchalant? Or was it: do it as quick as possible when no one is
looking?Truth was, Bruce hadn’t really taught him much about stealth yet.
Ironically, Bruce didteach him how to be unnoticeable in the dark or in the
midst of a fight, but not around people in a public place as Dick Grayson.
The other thing Dick thought they spent way too much time on was practicing how
to flee in desperate situations. For some reason, Bruce had always been very
intent on telling Dick all the possible ways Batman could die and Robin would
be left to his own devices to safe himself.
Like that would ever happen.
Dick would have laughed if not for the way the class was so quiet. Mr. Johnson
was scribbling Math questions almost fervently onto the board, seeing his
chance, Dick brought the Snickers bar to his mouth as naturally as possible. He
tried his best not to look around too much and just act relaxed. No sudden
jerky movements. No sudden jerky movements.
Suddenly, Mr. Johnson’s phone beeped twice. Dick quickly tried to hide the bar
from Mr. Johnson, but, apparently, it wasn’t fast enough. Mr. Johnson had seen
Dick moving his hands underneath the table.
“Richard.” He called, “Anything you’d like to show us?”
“I dropped my pencil, sir.” Dick said, forcing his smile to look reassuring
instead of nervous or guilty. It seemed to have worked, because Mr. Johnson
just nodded a little.
Dick sighed in relief. He got lucky. Dick could just imagine the kind of
punishment he would have to endure if Mr. Johnson actually found out that he-
“He’s hiding a Snickers bar, sir.”
Dick’s eyes opened wide, and he whipped around to see who it was. It was the
boy from that morning, the boy who crashed into Danny and almost started a
fight. Oh no.
“Richard? Is that true? Show me your hands.”
Dick sighed, there really was no point in lying anymore. He had never been very
good at it anyway. For some reason, no matter how good or convincing his lie
was, everybody always said his eyes betrayed it all. Maybe that was one of the
reasons why Bruce insisted that Robin used a domino mask at all times.
“I’m sorry sir, I was just really hungry.”  
“Hungry or not, Richard, you know better than to disrespect class rules.”
“I won’t do it again, Mr. Johnson.” Dick tried again.
“You better not, for your own sake.” Mr. Johnson had his full attention on Dick
now, wearing his best ‘scary face’. Mr. Johnson was probably hoping for Dick to
glower in fear, but instead, Dick just smiled sheepishly. That seemed to make
Mr. Johnson even more upset, because he marched across the classroom straight
to Dick’s table.
“This isn’t your first offense, Mr. Grayson, and I find your actions and
attitude very disrespectful. I’m afraid I’ll have to call your parents for a
meeting after school. Wait in front of my office after your last class today
and we’ll see what our meeting will conclude.”
An icy lump in Dick’s throat choked off whatever he was going to say. What?!
No, please don’t call Bruce. Anything but that!
The realization that the number Dick had given them was Bruce’s private number
didn't help in the last. He really should have thought better of it before he
tried to eat during one of Mr. Johnson’s classes.
“I’m really sorry. I never meant any disrespect. Br-, I mean, my guardian is
usually very busy on weekdays. I will not object if you give me detention or
extra homework instead.” This may be your last chance, Dick.
“Your guardian? Well, we shall see. ” Without another word, Mr. Johnson went
back to the whiteboard and continued writing, looking quite satisfied with
himself.
Not many of Dick’s friends knew that Bruce Waynewas his guardian. Dick just
never really found it necessary to tell them. When they did find out, one way
or the other, they would stare at him with disbelieving eyes for some time,
then, they would suddenly treat Dick as if he’s their best friend all their
lives.
That or they would suddenly pretend he never even existed.
He sighed again. Why did school always have to be so… tiring? He would really
much rather stay in the manor’s gym and do some routines. Dick tried to
concentrate on whatever Mr. Johnson was explaining to the class, but all he
could think about were all the ways he could prevent Mr. Johnson from making
the call.
 
===============================================================================
 
The next two hours were as mundane and monotonous as it got. Dick answered
questions, took notes, listened to whatever his teachers were saying, but most
of the time he was thinking about Mr. Johnson calling Bruce. The moment the
bell rang, Dick hurried himself along the bustling corridors to Mr. Johnson’s
office.
What if he already called Bruce? Dick thought suddenly. He was almost entirely
sure that Bruce’s contact number was written somewhere in his student records.
He could still clearly remember being asked to write down a trusted phone
number in case the school needed to call someone. And, of course, Dick had been
dumb enough to give them Bruce’spersonal number instead of the one at the
manor.
Mr. Johnson shouldn’t have all too many problems finding and calling Bruce.
Dick knew that Bruce wouldn’t be too angry about his transgression, but the
thought of having to face Bruce at school with Mr. Johnson was almost
unbearable.
Dick bit his lip and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” He heard Mr. Johnson’s sharp voice and Dick opened the door a little
too fast.
Mr. Johnson was sitting at his desk, he had a mug of coffee next to him and a
thick stack of papers directly in front of him. He looked at Dick with raised
eyebrows.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson. Did I interrupt anything?”
“No, no. Just grading some papers.” Mr. Johnson took a big sip from his mug
before continuing, “Did you want anything?”
“Well, Mr. Johnson… I wanted to say that I’m really sorry about this morning.”
He tried and smiled slightly. “I was just really hungry.” His smile grew even
more sheepish. He had never done this before and he wasn’t entirely sure what
to expect.
Dick watched Mr. Johnson carefully. It’s working. Dick thought to himself, and
gave himself a slight pat on the back.
“If you would like, I can help around to make it up to you, Mr. Johnson. My
guardian is really very busy these days.”
“You’re a good student, Richard.” Mr. Johnson finally said, and Dick felt a
weight being lifted from his chest. “You don’t have to do anything for me.
Don’t worry, I won’t call your guardian or give you detention. But I’ll still
have to give you extra weekend homework to make it fair. Come to me during
second break to take them.”
Dick must have been smiling from ear to ear. God,was he relieved. Weekend
homework was a piece of cake. He could probably finish in less than half an
hour anyway.
“Just be sure to follow class rules next time, they’re there for a reason. And
don’t forget you already have two strikes for late homework. One more and I
won’t be as lenient.”
“You can count on me!” No way was he going to risk thatagain. “Thanks a bunch,
Mr. Johnson.” Dick said as goodbye with a genuine, happy smile this time.
“You’re welcome, Richard.”
Dick still had the smile plastered on his face as he made his way to the
cafeteria. He was walking briskly when it dawned on him that all this wouldn’t
have happened if the school never even had Bruce’s number. So maybe, if he
somehow ‘replaced’ Bruce’s number in his student’s record with that of the
manor’s…
Or better yet, with his own phone number….
Yeah, he could definitely manage that.
But in the meantime, he was in desperate need for some food.
 
===============================================================================
 
Dick had settled with sandwiches, saving Alfred’s lunch for the second break,
he only had a little over 10 minutes before classes would start again.
“Want some?” Danny asked as he held a bag of chips in front of him.
“Sure.”
“So, watcha think of this place, Dick?” Danny asked as he continued rummaging
in his huge bag of chips.
“It’s great! I especially like the cafeteria, their food is really good.” Dick
answered before he took another mouthful of ham and cheese sandwich.
“Yeah, the food’s pretty good.  Though I think it gets kinda lame around here
real quick.”
“Why is that?” Dick thought it was anything but lame. In addition to a tedious
lesson plan, drama seemed to pop out of every corner on an almost daily basis.
There was always something going on in this school, how could it be lame?
“Well, duh. Look around you.”
Dick actually looked around. Activity buzzed from every direction, but there
was nothing remarkable. Danny almost laughed at Dick’s confusion.
“There are no girlsaround.” Danny said matter-of-factly, gesturing at all the
people in the cafeteria. “It’s an all-boysschool.”
Dick blinked back at Danny a couple of times. What did girls have to do with
it? Danny saw his confusion again, and this time he really laughed.
“Oh, Dick!”
“What!?”
“You don’t go out much, do you?” Danny almost doubled-over as he continued
laughing. Some boys from the table beside them even turned their heads to see
what was so funny. Dick just blinked at them, then at Danny, then back at them.
He still had no idea what Danny was trying to say.
“What-”
Danny suddenly stopped laughing and looked straight at Dick, all humor gone
from his eyes.
“Dick, you do know what a ‘girlfriend’ means, right?”
Was there something going on that Dick should know but did not?
“Yeah. A female friend. Danny, I still don-”
Danny just stared at him. This was getting awkward really quick. There was
definitelysomething going on that he did not know about.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Huh?”
“Oh my God, Dick. You really don’t know!” Danny sat back and stared at him
disbelievingly.
“Is there something I should know about?” Dick was burning with a hundred
questions. What was it about girls here?
“Do you know what the big kids do when they go out with girls? I mean, what it
means?” Danny was still staring at him as if he could not believe what he had
just heard.
“What it means?Uh... no?” Dick scrambled through everything he knew about
girls. What it means? What did that question even mean?
“Okay. Okay.” Danny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Do you know that
men and women marry each other?”  
“Of course I do! But Danny, what does it have to do with anything?” Dick
couldn’t hold it back any longer. What could Danny possibly be talking about?
All of a sudden, Danny started laughing again. Louder than he did before
“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Dick said almost petulantly.
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Danny finally stopped and wiped away the tears
that had welled up in his eyes.
“Well?” Dick pouted slightly. He really, reallywanted to know at that point.
“Firstly, I’m sorry for laughing. That was not very nice. Secondly, how is it
possible for a guy like you not to know what a girlfriend-”
“Danny!” Dick’s frown grew deeper.
“Okay, okay! So a girlfriend is basically a girl,” Danny said slowly, “who is
romantically involved with a boy, but they’re not married yet. You get that
much?”
Oh.Now he knew what Danny was talking about. He just never knew they called it
a ‘girlfriend’.It was such a silly thing to call someone so special. He thought
girlfriends were just the kind of girls men went out with to attend parties and
social conventions, not the people they would actually marry and share the rest
of their lives with.
It was just so... unlikely. People alwayshad more than just one or two
girlfriends in the course of their lives, but surely it was not possible to
have thatmany people to marry? Dick thought that was a little weird. But he
wasn’t entirely sure; he just knew that Bruce had a lot of girlfriends.
Wait- Does that mean…
“Oh, I know what that is.” Dick said and saw obvious relief wash over Danny’s
features. “So, before you marry someone, they’re either your girlfriend or…
boyfriend?”
“Well, yeah. If everything goes well, they will probably get married.”
Dick thought about the beautiful women Bruce would often go out with. Just this
morning he briefly saw a headline saying: TIFFANY, SOCIALITE BRUCE WAYNE’S NEW
GIRLFRIEND?He thought nothing much of it then, he saw things like that so often
he mostly ignored them.
No. Just, no. That can’t be right. Dick felt heat rise up to his cheeks at the
thought.
“So what if it does not go well?” Dick blurted out before he even realized it.
He did not like to think about Bruce with this… Tiffany.
Dick couldn’t help being reminded of his mom and dad. He  would always remember
the way his mom and dad would look at each other every time they had finished a
particularly hard routine. There was pride in his dad’s smile and delight in
his mom’s gaze. There had also been love.
It made Dick happy back then. Life used to be so much simpler.
Dick almost felt nauseous at the thought of Bruce looking at Tiffany that way.
It just- it just felt wrong. He had seen the parties Bruce Wayne attended, he
had seen all the sparkling dresses and silver cutlery. He knew Bruce was just
playing up the façade, at least to an extent… Or was he?
His palms tingled as he imagined what the next headlines would look like.
‘BRUCE WAYNE DECIDED TO MARRY TIFFANY.’ ‘BRUCE WAYNE AND TIFFANY NOW GOING TO
BE HUSBAND AND WIFE’ ‘SOCIALITE BRUCE WAYNE FOUND LOVE OF HIS LIFE.’
Dick swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Well,” Danny interrupted his train of thought, “if they don’t get along
they’ll break up. Usually, they’ll find another boyfriend or girlfriend after a
while.”
That sounds more familiar.According to the papers, Bruce changed ‘girlfriends’
very often. Dick never asked him about them. He just thought they were female
friends, like the name actually suggests. He didn’t- never would have guesseda
‘girlfriend’ was someone you actually loved.Someone you would eventually marry.
But this… this Tiffany.Bruce andTiffany. Dick suddenly felt his earlier
distress weigh down on him again.
“So that’s basically why this place gets lame after a while.” Danny continued
his earlier rambling, ignorant of the way Dick had begun chewing on his lower
lip anxiously. “I would really like to meet some girls sometime, you know.
Maybe I can get myself a girlfriend. My big brother says having one is awesome.
I never had one myself, so-”
The school bells cut him off.
“Never the luxury of time, huh?” Danny said as he stood up. “Guess that’s what
school’s all about. Well, nice talking to you, Dick. Catch you around again
sometime.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you around, Danny.” Dick said absently as Danny hurried off to
wherever he was going. Other kids were rapidly flowing out of the cafeteria,
too. A couple of kids lingered to exchange quick goodbyes before, eventually,
they went off too.
Dick suddenly realized he’d just been standing there, staring at the emptying
cafeteria.
Sighing to himself, he walked over to his locker to check his schedule. He
should probably start worrying about the fact that classes would start any
moment now, but all he could think about was Bruce. Bruce andTiffany.
What does it mean?Dick had begun chewing his lower lip again. Would Bruce much
rather spent his time-
Dick quickly chastised himself for thinking such senseless things. He usually
knew better than to believe gossip.
Why are you even thinking about this?He tried pushing everything out of his
mind entirely. He tried,but knowing how much his mom and dad had loved each
other...
He was burning with curiosity and- and- something he couldn’t exactly place at
the moment. He just knew that he hadto do something. Asking was out of the
option.
Definitely.
He was walking back to class in silence, almost sulking, when an idea struck
him. It was a good idea, he was grinning to himself like an idiot at just the
thought. Would it work?
Yes, he was almost entirely sure.
But the real question was: should he actually do it? 
Chapter End Notes
     I know, I know, I'm sorry for introducing so many new characters, but
     don't worry, you'll see them again. :)
***** Of Jocks and Billionaires *****
Chapter Summary
     What Bruce was up to while Dick was at school.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
                                  Chapter Six
                           Of_Jocks_and_Billionaires
 
“Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! Look over here please.”
“Mr. Wayne, are the rumors about you and Tiffany true?”
"Where do you stand on the mayor’s latest speech about cutting charity funds?
“Hey, Mr. Wayne! Any comments on beautiful Tiffany Christensen’s claims that
you two are dating now?”
The billionaire didn’t spare a glance at the bustling crowd of microphones and
flashing cameras. As usual, Bruce Wayne didn’t have a hair out of place. His
clothes were simple, almost casual even, with the top button of his shirt
unbuttoned and a few loose strands of hair falling perfectly over his forehead.
But still, he looked as imposing and untouchable as ever.
Photographers wrestled each other for a clear shot of the billionaire before he
disappeared through the building’s secured doors. 
"Good morning Mr. Wayne. I’m Lisa, I’ll be your escort for today.” A smiling
young woman greeted him at the front doors. It was obvious from her demeanor
that she barely had her excitement in check. It wasn’t everyday that a regular
employee could come up close and personal with the Prince of Gotham himself.
“Good morning, Lisa.” Bruce replied, and smiled charmingly. Most people
couldn’t begin imagining just what that smile could do. At that moment, it just
made Lisa’s head reel.
“The conference will be held on the 15th floor.” She said and she moved a
little too close to Bruce to merely be polite. “But if you would like, I could
give you a tour around first. Armand Electronics has an impressive collection
of vintage gadgets from our early years. But if you’re more interested in some
newer products, I could also show you our latest prototypes.”
“I would love that, but I don’t want to keep everyone waiting.  Is Lucius Fox
here yet?”
“Yes.” The young lady looked pointedly disappointed, “He’s waiting for you
upstairs. Would you like me to take you to there?”
“Gladly. Thank you, Lisa.”
The conference room was the biggest and most extravagant the company had. A
little too big actually, for just the 15 people that were participating. At the
first sight of their guest star, the men inside quickly shuffled to their feet
to greet him.
“Bruce! Glad you could make it.” Lucius called out in greeting, smiling
heartily. “On time, that is.” He added only for Bruce to hear.
“I didn’t have anything else planned today. I thought I might as well come.”
Bruce said and smiled another one of his famed smiles.
It wasn’t often that Bruce Wayne came to conferences, on time or not. Sometimes
he would simply ‘forget’ about them or conveniently be needed elsewhere. Lucius
had gotten used to his employer’s unreliable schedule, but it was still a
relief to actually have him show up for a change.
“We don’t want to make this longer for you, Mr. Wayne.” The chairman said.
“Would you like us to begin?”
“When you’re ready.”
Lucius watched as his employer seated himself in the biggest chair reserved
just for him. Despite being accustomed to Bruce’s nonchalant and carefree
lifestyle, Lucius was barely able to repress a sigh as Bruce leaned back in his
chair with an overly obvious bored expression. 
“Good morning gentlemen. I’m Evan O’Connell from the sales department. Today I
would be presenting about some of Armand Electronics’ newest, and best,
products.” The speaker began a little nervously, “But before I begin, I would
like to thank our guest star, Bruce Wayne, for coming this morning. Thank you,
Mr. Wayne.”
Evan O’Connell was a big man, nearly as big as Bruce, he looked liked an
athlete more than anything else. Lucius thought that it was almost funny to see
a man like him smile nervously, timidly even, at Bruce. But then again, Bruce
Wayne was a very wealthy, very powerful and essentially very intimidating man.
And Bruce had always made sure that nobody would ever forget exactly who he
was.
It got funnier still when Lucius noticed that O’Connell would anxiously glance
at Bruce every thirty seconds.
Lucius was busy scribbling notes in his little book when he thought something
was off. Bruce was uncharacteristically quiet that day. On the rare occasions
that he would come, he was usually very meticulous in his demands.
It was strange. Bruce would certainly have commented on that ambiguous mention
of their distributors. Lucius still had his head over his notes when he heard a
distinct hitch in O’Connell’s voice when he sneaked another glance at Bruce. 
Lucius knew what that meant. Embarrassingly, it had happened before.
Bruce had fallen asleep.
Lucius quickly snapped up and shot a look at his employer. But no. He wasn’t
asleep. Far from it. His eyes were wide open, not a hint of drowsiness in them.
His eyes were hard and focused as they looked at Evan O’Connell. No,that wasn’t
right.
Bruce wasn’t just looking at him. Bruce was glaringat him.
Lucius felt a chill run down his spine at the sheer ice in his employer’s eyes.
He never quite saw Bruce like that. In fact, he never quite saw so much
contempt in anyone’s eyes.
“Bruce?” Lucius whispered. The billionaire’s sudden transition was almost
frightening. In an instant, his dark blue eyes cleared and it was back to his
usual absentminded flourish. He even had that goddamned smile again.
“What is it, Lucius?”
What was it, really? Now that he had Bruce’s attention, Lucius wasn’t sure what
he should say anymore.
“I- I just wanted to know what you think about their offer. I think it’s quite
convincing.”
“You think so, Lucius? I thought their distributors raise many questions. We
shouldn’t rush into this.”
“Right.” This was almost awkward. “Were you alright just then? Something…
wrong?”
“Huh?” The handsome billionaire looked back at him in confusion. “What was it
Lucius?”
“You looked- uh… distraught.”
“Oh, must be the hangover I have from last night. It’s still quite early in the
morning, you see.”
“Of course! I understand. Last night must have been quite some night.”
“Tell me about it.” Bruce said in his usual deep and sultry voice, Bruce even
proceeded to wink at him. If Lucius was a born a girl, he was certain his heart
would have skipped a beat.
Very hesitantly, Lucius went back to his notes. He told himself that he must
have been seeing things. It was just like Bruce to get drunk with another one
of his beautiful girlfriends. Wild, late-night parties were nothing new in
socialite Bruce Wayne’s life.
Lucius thought he knew his employer well, but now that he gave it some thought,
Lucius realized that a big part of what he knew about Bruce came from gossip
tabloids. The billionaire almost never talked about himself, but Lucius didn’t
want to poke his nose into other people’s lives so he never really asked.
For some reason, the realization was unnerving.
But there was one thing Lucius knew that the tabloids didn’t. Very recently
Bruce Wayne, playboy billionaire, heir of the Wayne’s vast fortune, had taken
in a young, orphaned boy. Somehow Bruce managed to keep this from the gossip-
sharks.
Then again, Lucius only came to know merely because Bruce needed him to sign a
couple of legal adoption papers. He wouldn’t judge. It was hardly his problem.
But Lucius saw the files; he saw the boy’s pictures. He was so young, so naïve.
And Bruce was hardly the appropriate father figure a boy like that needed.
But Lucius knew better than to judge.
Just then, Evan came to his presentation’s end.
“We’ll have a short break before we continue with our next presentation.”  The
chairman announced. “Mr. Wayne, I hope you saw potential in our products.”
“I certainly did.” He said smoothly, but then turned to the retreating form of
Evan O’Connell.
“Excuse me, sir.” Bruce’s deep, clear voice cut through the room the moment
O’Connell placed his hand on the door handle.
“Y-yes, Mr. Wayne?” This time his smile was more than just nervous. O’Connell
looked almost scared.
“I’m quite sorry, but what was your name again? This happens to me way too
often.” Bruce chuckled slightly. “Sometimes names just slip by me. Was it
O’Connell? As in Jerry O’Connell?”
Bruce seemed to be in a very pleasant mood despite his hangover.
“That’s right, Mr. Wayne.”
“Well, you did a very good job there, Mr. O’Connell.”
“T-thank you. I uh- need to get a couple files. Excuse me.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
O’Connell exited hastily. He seemed to be more than a little anxious to leave
the room.
“Please forgive him, Mr. Wayne.” The chairman spoke again. “Mr. O’Connell is an
excellent employee, but he’s prone to get stage fright from time to time.”
“Oh, I understand. It takes time to get used to an audience.”
“Anyhow, would you like something to drink, Mr. Wayne? We have just started a
new campaign that promotes our employees’ health. We have some very excellent
hot chocolate if you’d like.”
Bruce laughed in his usual charming self. “Sure, why not. I would have asked
for coffee, but apparently, they only make hangovers worse.”
Almost immediately, a girl came to place a mug in front of Bruce. Lucius could
see the other men and women helping themselves at a counter across the room. He
didn’t really want anything, so he decided to sit and listen.
“I heard that last night was quite the night, Mr. Wayne. It’s a pity that I
hadn’t been able to make it, my son just came back from his internship in
Europe.”
“Europe? Great place. Just came back from a vacation in Paris a couple of weeks
ago myself. Is your son planning to follow in his father’s footsteps?”
“I hope he would.” The chairman leaned in with renewed interest. Lucius figured
that he was the kind of person who wouldn’t shut up about their children. “I
could see that he has a knack for business. He would make a great addition to
Armand Electronics. But you know the youth of today, Mr. Wayne. Only concerned
with trivial things.”
Bruce quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, twirling a fountain pen
between his fingers.
“If only that boy would listen to what I keep telling him. But I guess boys
will be boys. He’s head over heels in love with a girl he met in Europe. Can’t
seem to think about anything else. I love that boy to death, but I swear he’s
going to be the death of me someday.”
Bruce laughed again, but he still didn’t say anything. Lucius wondered what
went through his employer’s mind. He never wanted to know what Bruce really did
every time he called in absent, or what his life was like outside the
spotlight. Lucius never even questioned his employer’s regularly changing
girlfriends. But since Bruce took in the orphaned boy, young enough to still
have the soft chubbiness of childhood around his cheeks, he began wondering.
How could Bruce Wayne manage to raise a child as the carefree playboy that he
was? Lucius couldn’t imagine. Didn’t really want to, but he really did wonder.
Bruce picked up the mug from its saucer and eyed it for some time. He stared at
the sweet, dark brown liquid, his blue eyes unusually somber. At first Lucius
thought there was something wrong with it. Bruce Wayne was very rich and used
to the lavish luxuries money could afford. God knew how much money he spent on
just his lunch every day.
After a while, Bruce took a sip, no tentative sniffing whatsoever. The chairman
continued talking, but Bruce’s gaze was miles away.
For the second time that day, Lucius thought there was something off. This time
he was sure it wasn’t anything a hangover would cause. 
Lucius didn’t want to pry into other people’s lives, but he thought Bruce
looked at his hot chocolate for just a second too long.
 
===============================================================================
 
Dick felt his muscles tingle with the same buzzing thrill of adrenaline, of
danger. It was familiar. And it’s part of why he loved being Robin. Only this
time, he wasn’t in costume. He didn’t have a mask to cover his face or a
convenient pocketful of smoke pellets in case things got too hairy.
Dick was in his uniform. His uncomfortably stiff schooluniform that must have
left all kinds of traces if somebody were to look for them. Protecting his
identity was out of the question. He had his name embroidered in bold, clear
letters on the right side of his chest. Not even the dimmest of people would
miss the RICHARD GRAYSON that just screamed look at me, look at me.
So Dick honestly didn’t have the faintest idea what he would do if anyone were
to find him.
Dick felt before he heard the presence of somebody quickly approaching his
hiding spot. He held his breath, because frankly, his hiding spot barely
qualified as a hiding spot. Anyone who just happened to glance upwards would
have immediately seen a school boy, still immaculately dressed with vest and
tie and Alfred’s shined up shoes, supporting himself from the ceiling with just
his hands and feet. In fact, it was virtually impossible to miss anything in
such a narrow hallway.
This was ridiculous. So, so stupid.He could already hear all the things Bruce
would berate him for if he knew of this… stunt. He should have planned it out
first. Studied the area and all the possible threats. The escape routes. How
many people there were. The air vents. But he didn’t have any time. If he
stayed at the school yard two seconds longer he could kiss his plan goodbye and
wait until Monday. And waiting just a day longer would have driven him crazy.
Dick barely had a plan, but just three minutes after lunch period started, he
already saw Hugo towering above the crowd of kids. He would have easily spotted
Dick, and he didn't look happy in the least. Dick had promised to meet Hugo at
the cafeteria, but with all the other things that went wrong that day, Hugo
just slipped out of his mind. Hugo was prone to overreact and he always got so
upset if he caught Dick sharing lunch with somebody else.
Dick had to decide fast. It was either eating with a bad-tempered Hugo eyeing
Dick indignantly all through lunch period or jumping through the window Dick
knew led to teacher’s quarters. One last look at Hugo, who had just grabbed
hold of a kid he mistook for Dick, and Dick was flying through the window
already.
Now he was here, up at the ceiling, with not more than twenty minutes before
lunch period was over, and Ms. Robinson was less than four feet below him. 
Dick made to inch forward as quietly as he could, but the fabric of his uniform
made rustling noises at even the slightest twitch of his muscles. Ms. Robinson
stilled abruptly and craned to look at the ceiling. Right where Dick was.  But
nobody was there. Ms. Robinson glanced about her again until she finally
dismissed it.
Dick was crouching right beside the door, hidden in plain sight, his head was
humming with just howridiculously close that was. Thank Godfor that one lesson
with Bruce about how humans are programmed to notice only specific things.
He really, really needed some kind of strategy. Right now the only thing he had
to go on was: make it to the records room and make sure nobody sees you.
Ms. Robinson’s footsteps faded and he quickly made for the door that opened to
the teacher lounge. Anywhere was better than this barren hallway with
completely nohiding spots. He clambered back up to the ceiling and squeezed
himself into the tiny space above the door frame. Now he just had to wait.
Soon enough, the door creaked open and a lower-primary teacher whose name he
did not know appeared. He made his move. Every fraction of a second was crucial
and this was absolutely crazy. Before the teacher turned around to shut the
door, Dick quietly dropped down and quickly ducked out of her line of sight.
He made it safely behind the door before anyone spotted him. The teachers
surely wouldn't take a stray student snooping about the office kindly.
Attention was the last thing he needed.
Wasting no time, Dick made for the record room. Many teachers were off for
their break, but most were still busily occupied at their work stations,
although they were too absorbed to notice the peculiar flicker of shadows. 
Dick risked a glance about the room to make sure nobody was looking in his
direction. This would be the trickiest part. As silently as the door’s hinges
could manage, Dick slipped open the record room’s door. I must be crazy.If
someone were to catch him now they surely would question how he managed to get
so far without anybody seeing him.
Another thing to feel bad about: Always have a cover story. And, of course, he
didn't have the slightest idea how to begin.
Once inside, Dick bit down on his lip, waiting for someone to call out. Surely
somebody must have noticed a door opening by itself. He remained like that for
a whole minute, but nothing came. He released a breath he didn't even realize
he was holding. I can’t believe I made it.
Dick quickly searched through all the student files to find one that spelled
out: Richard J. Grayson. The rush of adrenaline somewhat receded as he deftly
flipped through the pages.
And yes. Below the inquiry ‘trusted contact number’ he found Bruce’s name and
number written in Dick’s own hand. He still did not know what made him think
giving Bruce’s private number was a good idea. Bruce had especially told him
that this number was only known to Alfred and himself, and it was only to be
used in case of emergencies. And by ‘emergencies’ Dick almost certainly knew
that Bruce had meant the sort of emergencies that concerned their nocturnal
occupation.
Dick took a bottle of correction fluid out of his pocket and made to whisk out
the incriminating information, only to stop his hand mid-air. What in the
world?
Thatwas in no way Bruce’s number. Dick knew the Manor’s and all of Bruce’s
numbers by heart. This was none of them. He scrutinized the somewhat messy
handwriting that was undoubtedly his own. Had he accidentally written the
circus’ number? Dick also knew that by heart. Thatwasn't any number he knew.
What is going on?
Could he really have written a random number on his student record? Dick
blinked distractedly a couple more times before finally deciding that he should
probably try calling it. He scribbled the unknown number on the palm of his
hand because, despite how Bruce could memorize an entire page with just one
glance, Dick still didn't have photographic memory.
He quickly snooped out of the teacher’s lounge. Most of the teachers were still
on their break, so it wasn't all too hard. Once or twice a teacher glanced
around oddly, but they never really suspected anything.
Dick was smiling like an idiot to himself when he made it back to the
schoolyard completely unnoticed. Partly, Dick wanted to tell Bruce that he
managed what he just did, but a bigger part of him told him that Bruce would
just see it as recklessness. And Dick was sorely reminded that Bruce was in no
mood to even speak to Dick.
Dick scanned the school yard, but Hugo was nowhere in sight. He must have given
up his search. The big football team captain was never the patient type. Dick
guessed that after 5 minutes of futile searching, Hugo must have stormed back
to the Highschool next door. Dick honestly felt a little bad for that. He
should have at least told Hugo, but he had forgotten and Hugo was not the
understanding type either. Dick would have to think of a way to make it up to
him. Maybe Dick should finally come to see Hugo on one of his football practice
matches. Hugo had been asking Dick for weeks now, but Dick simply didn’t have
time to spare, what with his training and Alfred’s very strict curfew. Dick
honestly wanted to come. He’d never been to any football matches before, and
Hugo did make it sound very exciting.
Thoughts about football matches were quickly replaced. The number on his hand
felt like it was burninghis skin. There was only 10 minutes left, not enough
time to go find Hugo anyway. Eating his lunch would also take more than 10
minutes.
What Dick really wanted was to make a phone call. And it just felt saferto call
from school instead of the manor. If Bruce noticed….
But it wasn’t as if Dick could hide anything from him.
The lady at the front desk was too busy texting to see Dick, even when he tried
getting her attention with a loud “excuse me”.  Giving up, Dick decided to go
for the phones without her permission.
Dick held his breath as he heard the call connecting. Maybe this was just one
of Bruce’s many cell phone numbers. He could’ve just forgotten. No, that was
impossible. Although he didn’t exactly have a photographic memory, Dick knew of
his memorizing capabilities. And he was sure he neversaw this number before.
So whose is this? Alfred’s? No. The Manor’s? Nope. The circus? Nada. The pizza
place? Now he was just being crazy.
Then suddenly Dick heard, “Hello?”
Panic ensued. His mind just went blank for a second too long. Somebody said
hello. Somebody replied. This is a valid number. It wasn’t random. But who is
it then. Bruce?
“Bruce?”
“I’m sorry, sir. May I know who I am speaking with?”
Dick calmed down enough to pay attention. But that just made him realize that
it’s a woman’s voice. He panicked again. It’s a woman. SO NOT Bruce.
“I-I’m Dick.” Dick swallowed hard, “I-uh-I live at the manor. The- the manor
Bruce also lives in? Uh- I- uh-”
Awkward silence. Dick was certain the woman would hang up. She probably thought
he was some sort of lunatic. Then it must be a random number. How could I have
written a random number on my records?
“Ah! Mr. Grayson!”
 Now Dick was really, really confused.
“You know my name?”
“Yes, Mr. Grayson, I’ve been fully informed of your whereabouts. You’re
speaking to Mr. Wayne’s personal secretary. How may I help you?”
 Oooooh.
“Can I speak to Bru- er- Mr. Wayne?”
“I’m sorry Mr. Grayson, but Mr. Wayne is not in his office at the moment. Would
you like to leave a message?”
“Uh. No. That’s fine. Thank you. Very much.” Dick had to wince at how awkward
he must’ve sounded.
“My pleasure. Have a good day, sir.” And the line disconnected.
Dick stared ahead of him for a minute. That made a lot of sense. Bruce’s
secretary. Of course.He should have thought of that.
But how in the world did it end up in my records? He was convinced he didn’t
write that. He had written Bruce’s emergency number instead. He remembered it
because it was embarrassing.
Somebody changed it?
Then the pieces fell into place, and it made perfect sense. Bruce. He felt a
little stupid at first, but he couldn’t repress the smile that blossomed on his
lips.
Of course he did.
Thanks Bruce.
 And for the first time that day, Dick didn’t feel quite as lonely.
 
===============================================================================
 
Students streamed out of the school building as the school bells rang. Earlier,
Dick had managed to find an empty slot in his schedule to eat his lunch. He had
been hungry enough to even eat all of his vegetables without a second thought.
I hope Alfred would make banana cream pie.Dick smiled to himself as he walked
to the main entrance. The shiny Mercedes should be parked somewhere at the
front already, Alfred always came early.  
“Dick!” Dick suddenly felt a hand close around his small wrist and pull him
aside roughly, “Where were you? I was looking for you.”
“Oh. Hugo.” Dick turned to look up at the football captain frowning down at
him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I had to do something first.”
The bigger boy’s eyes shone with a mix of worry and anger. He opened his mouth
to say something, but Dick interrupted him.
“I know I promised. So can I make it up to you?” Dick smiled hopefully up at
the bigger boy. “How about one those football practice matches you wanted to
take me to? They start directly after classes end, don’t they? If you’d give me
a moment, I could go with you right now.”
Hugo just frowned more. “But where were you? You weren’t with that damned Kevin
were you?”
“Kevin? Really, Hugo, I don’t even know who that is.” Kevin? Is he one of the
guys from my grade? Or is he in Hugo’s football team?
“Never mind. But if you ever meet a Kevin, don’t EVER go ANYWHERE near him. Do
you get that, Dick?”
Dick felt Hugo’s hands tighten around his wrist, and he had to look away. Dick
knew well enough how to break out of Hugo’s grip, but he didn’t want to upset
him further. And Dick certainly didn’t like the way Hugo was looking at him.
“Let go, Hugo. I don’t know what you have against Kevin, but you’re hurting
me.” Dick knew Hugo was a good guy despite his volatile temper, but that didn’t
mean Dick liked it when Hugo was like this.
For a second, Hugo looked sorry but then he seemed to get a hold of himself and
tightened his grip even more.
“Then you shouldn’t have ditched me.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. But it wasn’t thatimportant was it?”
“But you still ditched me.”
That’s it. Hugo was being completely unreasonable. Dick used his free hand to
hit Hugo’s elbow and twisted his wrist free. Dick knew it didn’t hurt, but Hugo
looked like he was hurt in so many other ways than just because of his elbow.
The hurt quickly turned to anger.
“Dick.” And Hugo paused, swallowing hard. He was a popular kid and was used to
getting what he wanted. Hugo made to grab for Dick’s shoulder, but Dick was
fast and ducked away.
“Hugo, I’m sorry. Can we please just forget about it?”
Hugo looked as if he was about to burst a vein and Dick honestly felt quite
guilty. He did promise after all. Suddenly, Hugo slammed his palms onto Dick’s
chest and shoved forcefully. Dick crashed down onto the concrete ground, too
startled to do anything about it. With the air knocked out of him, all Dick
could do was stare up at Hugo wide-eyed.
“You promised, Dick.” Hugo was breathing hard and his voice cracked with the
strain. It was then that Dick realized that it was so much more than just
forgetting lunch. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it made Dick feel worse about
himself.
Dick scrambled to his feet, but Hugo crouched down beside him and shoved him
back down.  Much rougher this time, and he kept his hand pressed on Dick’s
chest.
“Dick.” Hugo almost yelled, “I-”
“Mr. O’Connell,” A deep, almost stormy voice interrupted Hugo’s tantrum. “I see
you’ve found my ward.” It was smooth as silk, as nonchalant as ever, but there
was a growl in it. Dark and very displeased.
“Who-” Hugo spun around, face still flushed from his exertion, only to come
less than 10 inches away from dark blue eyes intense enough to make anyone
wince.
“Hugo O’Connell, am I right? I’m Bruce Wayne if you don’t already know.” Then
the most disturbing thing happened. Bruce smiled. Not the usual plastic smiles
Dick was used to. This smile was vexing, wrong, dangerous. “It’s really nice to
meet you.”
Hugo turned to look at Dick, still sprawled on the ground, then back at Bruce
who easily towered over the Highschool jock. He had to swallow to finally speak
again, eyeing Bruce unsurely the whole time.
“How do you know my name?”
“I know your father. In fact, I just met him earlier this morning.” Again, that
same unnerving smile, much too kind for the ice in his eyes.
“And Dick’s your w-ward?”
“Ah yes.” The smile disappeared. “I was waiting for Dick at the main entrance,
but he was nowhere in sight. It seems you have been thoughtful enough to go and
find him for me.”
Hugo stepped back from Bruce, glancing at Dick uncertainly.
“Are you one of Dick’s friends, Hugo?”
Dick knew that voice, and Dick knew that shift in his eyes. Oh God.
“Bruce.” Dick tried. Bruce’s gaze remained fixed on Hugo’s, and Dick could see
Hugo’s hands begin to tremble.
“Yes, he’s my friend, Bruce. We were just fooling around.” Dick walked over to
Bruce, but Bruce paid no heed to him.
“Look here, mister.” Hugo’s voice cracked again, and this time it wasn’t
because of anger. “You misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand?” And there was genuine confusion in his question, but Dick knew
from the darkening in his eyes that Bruce knew exactlywhat was going on.
“Misunderstand what?”
“I was uh-”Hugo took another step back, and Dick really had to do something.
“Bruce?” This time Dick took hold of Bruce’s hand and tugged gently. “Hugo is
my friend, Bruce. I told you about him, we usually share lunch together.”
Bruce finally turned to look at Dick. They just stared at each other for a good
ten seconds. Dick was not sure what happened but Bruce turned back at Hugo, and
something in the way Bruce looked at him made Hugo blink in fear and choke back
a sob.
“Bruce, he’s my friend.”
Bruce looked at Dick again. He reallylooked. Dick thought he saw a question
within those dark eyes.
Then disturbingly sudden, Bruce smiled at Hugo. This time Bruce’s smile was
pleasant, carefree, coy, fake.It was as if nothing had happened. Dick couldn’t
decide whether to feel relieved or even more anxious.
“Well, I guess we’d better get going. Good day, Mr. O'Connell.” Bruce smiled
charmingly at the football captain. “It’s nice to know Dick has such nice
friends.”
And they were gone.
Chapter End Notes
     Finally you guys get to hear something of the Highschool boy I
     mentioned in chapter 2! :D
     So what'd think? Please tell me what you felt about it!
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