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Dick's hiding in a closet, hoping that neither Bruce or Alfred will find him and drag him out. In the course of trying to find his hiding place, he discovered the manor had a lot of closets. He had settled on a disused linen closet in the East Wing, it's stuffy and a bit too warm but he doesn't think they'll look for him here.
He's not even sure why he's hiding, not really. He'd got home from school, and had been confronted by Bruce telling him they were going to a party tomorrow. Well Bruce called it a gala but Dick knew that was just a fancy word for a party, he might be a circus kid but he wasn't stupid, he knew rich people words. But something about the idea of the party made him freak out and hightail it out of the room and upstairs to hide.
And that's how Dick Grayson finds himself sitting slightly uncomfortably in a linen closet on the third floor of the East Wing, willing Bruce not to come looking for him.
Of course, he doesn't get his wish. He didn't know why he thought this would work.
He hears the door to the room he's hiding in open, and heavy footsteps crossing the floor. He pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to make himself smaller as though that would help somehow.
Then there's a tapping on the closet door, but to Dick's surprise, it doesn't open.
'Dick.' Bruce's voice says quietly from the other side. 'Are you in there?'
Dick doesn't answer but his breathing is coming quick and shallow and he's sure Bruce can hear it. He must be able to.
'You gonna come out? We can just talk, it's alright. You're not in trouble.'
Dick realises Bruce isn't going anywhere so he resigns himself to the fact he'll have to talk to him. So he pushes open the closet door and finds Bruce sitting on the floor, waiting for him.
He drops down cross legged in front of Bruce and frowns, fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.
'Why'd you run off?' Bruce asks him.
'The party.' Dick mutters. 'Why do I have to go? I don't want to.'
Bruce sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He looks tired, Dick thinks.
'I thought it would be good for you to meet some people.' Bruce says. 'I'll be there the whole time, you won't be on your own '
Dick thinks about it, it could be nice to go somewhere that wasn't the manor or school. He's not really used to being on his own so much, he's used to constantly being around other people. And he realises how much he misses his family, not just his parents but everyone else in the circus too.
Reluctantly he nods.
'Fine.' he says, and Bruce looks visibly relieved. 'I'll come to the party.'
***
Dick's already regretting his decision to let Bruce talk him into going to this rich people party. He's never felt more out of place in his life. Bruce, to his credit, hasn't left Dick's side for a minute, even with all of these important people trying to talk to him.
Dick mostly stays quiet, trying very hard to hide behind Bruce hoping valiantly that no one will notice him. He feels all wrong too, in the perfectly tailored designer suit that Bruce bought for him. He's used to running around in leotards or leggings and tshirts, clothes that let him move and jump and twirl around. The navy blue suit he's wearing feels constrictive, like he can't move or breathe properly, he hates it.
And it feels like there are all these unspoken rules about what to say, how to behave and who to talk to. And Dick doesn't understand any of them, nobody told him what to do, he's like a fish out of water.
He can feel people's eyes on him as he and Bruce circle the room, they're staring at him like he's some kind of novelty, a curiosity to gawk at. He really doesn't like it, their expressions make him feel like he's under a spotlight.
He pulls at Bruce's sleeve anxiously.
'Why are they staring at me.' he whispers, as they pass an older couple who don't even bother to keep their voices down.
' That's the one I was telling you about. The kid that Bruce Wayne took in…'
Bruce stops walking and looks at Dick, his normally stern expression softening.
'They're nosey.' he says quietly. 'Always looking for something new to gossip about, just ignore them.'
Dick thinks this is easier said than done, but he tries not to focus on the stares and whispers as they thread their way through the crowd to get back to their table.
However before they can get there, they're accosted by a tall, slender woman in a red dress, her golden hair twisted into some kind of intricate knot at the back of her head, and practically dripping in diamonds. Dick can't tell how old she is. Her face looks strange and he immediately feels wary of her.
'Ah Bruce.' she says, fixing them with such a fake looking smile that Dick almost recoils. 'This must be the orphan everyone's been talking about. Cute little thing isn't he?'
'His name is Dick.' Bruce says firmly, his hand resting gently on Dick's shoulder. 'And yes he's living with me.'
The woman practically crows in delight and turns her attention to Dick instead.
'Where are you from then sweetie?' she asks, her face alight with undisguised curiosity.
'Kansas ma'am' Dick responds nervously.
The woman wrinkles her nose and shakes her head disparagingly.
'No, I meant where did you come from?'
Dick frowns, not understanding the question, he's just answered it. She asked where he was from and he'd told her where he was born.
'Erm, Keystone City.' Dick tries again, wondering if he hadn't been specific enough. 'But I've lived all over the place.'
'Ah yes, I remember. You're a carney, no wonder your accent is so…strange.'
Dick feels his face growing hot and tears pricking at the back of his eyes. She called him carney, it's a circus word, they use it for each other but when outsiders use it? It feels like a dirty word, like it's bad.
He also knows his accent is a bit odd, it's a mix of a lot of different ones from places he's lived and the people he's grown up with. But no one's ever really mentioned it before. Bruce and Alfred certainly never have.
He forces himself to reply without bursting into tears.
'Yes ma'am.' he says through gritted teeth.
'Well you just remember how lucky you are that Mr Wayne here was kind enough to take you in…'
Dick feels Bruce's hand tighten on his shoulder, grounding him and making him feel less like he's going to fly out of his skin with shame.
'That's enough Gloria.' he says to the woman, his voice casual and polite. 'That is my son and if you talk to him like that again, I'm sure your husband will be finding out exactly what you've been up to whilst he's been away on business.'
Gloria pales, and she gives Bruce and Dick a tight smile.
'No offence meant Mr Wayne, I do apologise.' she replies before picking up her champagne glass and hurrying away.
Bruce sighs and crouches down to Dick, who hadn't realised he was shaking.
'This party kinda sucks huh bud?' he says softly. 'You wanna get out of here? There's an amazing burger joint down the street.'
Dick nods, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out of his eyes.
Bruce steers him back to their table and Dick drops into a chair in relief, he'd quite like the ground to swallow him whole right about now.
'Stay right there.' Bruce says. 'I'm going to go make my excuses and then we can go, ok?'
***
The burger joint is a five minute walk from the hotel and they're there in no time. Dick instantly relaxes when they walk in, he feels more at home here than he did with all those rich people with their expensive clothes and false smiles. This place feels real in contrast.
Bruce tells him to order whatever he likes, so Dick orders a cheeseburger and fries and an enormous chocolate milkshake. They take their food and sit down in a corner booth, and it's only then that Dick realises just how hungry he is.
Bruce has taken off his jacket and pushed the sleeves of his probably very expensive shirt up to his elbows to eat. Dick's stares at him for a moment, finding it hard to believe that this is the same man from the party an hour earlier.
After a few minutes of eating in silence, Bruce asks 'Do you want to talk about it?'
Dick's startled, he'd never got the impression that Bruce Wayne was the type to talk about his feelings. But it couldn't hurt.
'She called me carney.' Dick says bitterly, staring down at his half eaten burger. 'If you're not in the circus, you just don't do that. It's wrong.'
He glances nervously up at Bruce.
'I'm sorry I embarrassed you.'
'No.' Bruce says firmly. 'You did not embarrass me, understand? You did nothing wrong.'
Dick feels slightly reassured by that and then takes a sip of his milkshake, just for something to do.
'Do I need to change how I speak?' he asks in a rush. 'If my accent is weird, I don't wanna…'
Bruce interrupts him and he actually looks angry, and Dick wonders if he's said something wrong.
'Look at me Dick.' Bruce says. 'You do not need to change anything about yourself. People are small minded and that's on them. You're my son and nothing anyone says will change that.'
For the first time since his parents died, Dick actually feels safe, that he can be his weird circus kid self without feeling like he's doing something wrong.
***
It's late by the time they get home but Alfred is still awake, waiting in the hallway for them. He smiles fondly as he takes their jackets and turns away to hang them up.
'Go and put your pyjamas on.' Bruce says to Dick. 'And I'm sure Alfred will make a pot of tea before we turn in. How's that sound?'
Dick nods enthusiastically, if there's one thing he's learned since moving in with Bruce Wayne, it's that he really likes a good cup of tea, which Alfred is delighted about. So he sprints up the stairs two at a time to go and get changed. It feels good to be home.