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Chapter Text

The old city clock struck midnight, and the darkest hues of night settled in. A stark blue light illuminated the boy's face as his phone's keyboard clicked with every tap. 

'Is it illegal to turn on the bat signal?' Dick googled.

According to the search results, it was very illegal for any non-authorised personnel to do so. 

'I'm just gonna pretend I didn't see that.' Dick thought to himself and promptly deleted his search history. 

A wiser child may have looked up that question before they were circling the famous signal and trying to figure out how to turn it on. But Dick wasn't turning back now and felt around until he found the switch. 

The sound of the massive light turning on immediately hit Grayson with a sense of nostalgia. Back in his circus days, his heart would race like a dog at the tracks until he heard that familiar noise and the tent lit up with lights he had been told a million times he shouldn't look at since they were that bright. Strangely, a sense of calm would then wash over him since flying through the air was as natural to Robin as running.

Dick tried to not let himself get too distracted and escaped memory lane. But he didn't know quite how long it would take for the Batman to show up, even after he had spent weeks analysing the signal in the sky to pinpoint its location.

Feeling jittery, Dick paced back and forth, fiddling with the accessory on his phone until he heard the elevator go down. He gasped and rushed over to the side of the elevator to hide in its shadows.

The rickety old thing rattled as it slowly brought up whoever was inside. Eventually, the doors squeaked open, and the person stepped out. But Dick could tell it wasn't Batman from the man's shadow.

Luckily, the only bright sources of light around were the one inside the elevator and the bat signal, allowing Dick to stay hidden in the darkness so long as he stayed quiet. 

The mystery man walked closer to the signal with his hands on his hips and a curious look on his face. Soon after, they both heard the whizzing sound of a grappling hook.

The Batman had arrived.

His imposing figure was lit by the moonlight as he stepped forward and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I was going to ask you that," Gordon responded. "I didn't turn it on."

"Then who did?" Batman asked, his voice sounding much rougher than Dick had remembered.

"Beats me." Gordon shrugged and switched the light off. "It could be faulty or our new recruits have been dicking around again," he said, sounding like a disappointed dad as he shook his head.

But before either of them could say anything else, there was a buzz on the radio. "Attention all units: 187 suspect seen heading southbound on 7th avenue. Suspect is armed, proceed with caution."

Both of them glanced at the radio attached to Gordon's hip. "You want to take that or shall- And you're gone."

Gordon had only glanced down for a moment but it was enough time for Batman to scale down the side of the building.

"Typical," Gordon uttered before unclipping his radio and responding to the dispatch officer. 

But Dick wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, the boy immediately rushed over to see how Batman had left. Yet Batman was already on the ground by the time he looked over the ledge. Dick had just enough time to see the headlight of his bike come to life before he rode away. 

'So cool,' Dick thought to himself. But he was broken out of his awe when he heard Gordon finishing up his conversation. 

Knowing he would for sure get caught if he tried to use the elevator, Dick dashed to the stairs as quietly as he could. His tiny feet pitter-pattered down them as fast as they could until he heard the sound of the elevator again and instantly started leaping down the stairs, praying he didn't deck it all the while.

Fortunately, it was an incredibly slow elevator and Dick made it down just before Gordon did. Still, he knew he had to act fast when Gordon unlocked his car with his key fob and its lights flashed.

Dick thought of an idea and knew it would be an incredibly risky manoeuvre, yet he went for it anyway.

As Gordon walked to his car, whilst he was on his phone, Dick scurried over to the other side of the car and opened the back door just enough so that he could slip inside. He closed the door with a light click, which Gordon was fortunately far enough away to not hear.

Dick rapidly started to question his rash decisions as he hid on the floor by the backseats of the car. But it was too late to back out now. The front door opened and the car shook slightly when Gordon sat down and slammed the door shut. 

By some miracle, he didn't spot Dick, in part thanks to the dark space he had parked in and also because he was too busy looking at his phone to notice anything amiss. But Gordon did pocket the device soon enough and the car's engine rumbled.

The radio started playing as Gordon pulled out onto the streets. However, the light-hearted song that was on was quickly overshadowed by the blaring siren the commissioner turned on. Still, Dick tried to be as still and quiet as he possibly could, even when Gordon swerved around sharp corners which seemed adamant on trying to make Dick roll around.

But he couldn't at all see where they were going anyway. Only the glow of the passing streetlights made it through the windows until they eventually came to an abrupt stop.

Dick held his breath as Gordon swung open his door. The car wobbled again as he slammed it shut. Yet Dick waited a few moments before he reached for the door handle.

He wasn't quite sure what was going on outside since he could only hear blaring police sirens and officers yelling over each other.

"Shouldn't we send in backup, Commissioner?" He heard a young woman ask.

"Oh, what a great idea!" Another responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's not let the guy in the fully bulletproof suit handle the crazy fellas with the Tommy guns. Nooo, I'm sure he's just dying for his knights in polyester armour to show up and save the day!"

"Alright, it was just a suggestion. No need to be a prick about it."

"How am I being a prick? I was agreeing with you-"

"That's enough," Gordon cut the bickering officers off just as Dick made his move.

With the speed of a roadrunner, he opened the door and rolled out of the car. Fortunately, every officer around had their eyes trained on the scene in front of them, so they didn't notice the boy scurrying around behind them.

Once he was back out in the cold night air, Dick realised where they were. It was an old warehouse by the docks that was currently getting all of its windows shot out. The shattered glass fell to the ground as everyone outside took cover. Meanwhile, there were screams of terror coming from inside that became even more panicked as they accidentally shot the lights out too.

But Dick had no time to deduce what the Batman was doing inside, he needed to find his bike and get out of there quickly. Seeing as he wasn't able to spot said vehicle anywhere out front, he dashed to the side of the building whilst he was still being concealed by the shadows.

Dick gasped and gave himself a mini high-five when he found it parked up there. He snuck over to it even though there was no one else in sight, and unclipped the GPS tracker from his backpack. 

It was a new addition after Francesca had come to terms with the fact that she couldn't keep Dick locked up in his room like he was Rapunzel nor could she put bars on the windows and make the place feel like a prison. Therefore, their compromise was that he could go out during the day, but he had to keep the tracker on him at all times and be back before sundown.

Dick knew his privileges would be revoked if he was caught going out at night again. Fortunately for him, Francesca always had a bottle of wine on Sunday nights and would be out cold shortly after. Hence, Dick borrowed her phone whilst she was snoring away and snuck out again.

Since the tracker was only a little black box attached to a keychain, it was fairly easy to attach it to the motorcycle and tuck it out of sight. Dick could only then pray that Batman wouldn't notice it until he got home. 

Speaking of the vigilante, the warehouse he was in had suddenly gone eerily quiet. 

"All clear! Move-in!" Dick heard an officer yell, prompting him to get the hell out of there as they all stormed the building. 

He managed to hide behind one of the cars just as Batman jumped down from the warehouse. Dick held his breath as the vigilante mounted his bike and turned the ignition key.

Never being one to stick around long, Batman kicked up the stand and sped away. The boy felt slightly mesmerised as he watched the vigilante zoom down the street with his cape fluttering behind him.

But Dick knew there was no time for gawking as he rushed to pull out the phone from his backpack. With bated breath, he looked for the app that tracked the device and waited for it to load.

"C'mon, c'mon, please work," he muttered to himself, watching that agnosing wheel spin around and around until...

"Yes!" Dick cheered to himself as a map of Gotham showed up and a little blue dot was whizzing across it. 

Step one of mission: Become besties with Batman was a success and Dick saw no reason to stick around. He ran to the nearest bus stop and made his way back to the orphanage, all while not taking his eyes off the dot for a moment.

By the time he was back in his cozy bed, it was three in the morning, and it was getting difficult to keep his eyes open. Still, he wasn't risking his plan failing. Therefore, Dick pulled out his headphones from his bedside drawer and plugged them into his phone.

Dick spent the next few hours listening to an audiobook he found online telling the tale of superheroes so silly, they used shark repellent spray in one chapter. All the while, he watched Batman zip around the city and wondered how the man wasn't exhausted already. It was dawn by the time Dick started to fully lose it though.

'Go to bed already, you madman!' The boy whined and sank further underneath his covers. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait much longer as Batman seemed to have finally come to a permanent stop...

'Wayne Tower? Why would he go there?' Dick thought with his nose scrunched up.

It took a moment for it to click but when it did Dick sprang up. 'The donation!'

A week after Batman had visited the orphanage, Bruce Wayne had donated a hundred thousand dollars and pledged to be their new benefactor. He had said it was a part of his renewal scheme. Since the flood had apparently been a wake-up call to him, he was now working closely with the Mayor to rebuild Gotham to be even stronger than it was before.

Dick hadn't thought it was suspicious at the time, especially since the move closely resembled his father's campaign, which the Riddler had recently brought back into the limelight. If someone had to try to tarnish his father's legacy the way the Riddler had, Dick too would do all that he could to salvage it.

But now he was beginning to wonder if the reason he knew the orphanage needed more funding was because Batman had told him.

'Maybe Mr Wayne is the rich boyfriend!' Dick gasped before he laid back down.

It was only a second later when he sprang up again. 'Or Batman is the rich boyfriend!'

Dick immediately googled Bruce Wayne to find a photo of his new suspect. He then screenshotted the clearest one of his face and used the pen tool on the photo editor to draw Batman's cowl onto him. It wasn't a perfect illustration by any means, but Dick reckoned it still proved him to be an entirely plausible match. 

Still, he knew he couldn't get ahead of himself. It wasn't enough to confirm anything. However, it was a lead.

Dick carefully removed the back of Francesca's phone and took out the battery. He would put it back once he had retrieved the tracker, since he couldn't think of a believable lie as to why it would be at Wayne Tower. He could only hope Francesca would procrastinate getting it fixed in the meantime. 

After tiptoeing to the couch the caretaker was still fast asleep on, and putting her phone back where he found it, Dick scurried back to his bed and got some shut-eye before he began phase two of his plan.

A plan which he was absolutely winging since he had not at all suspected the ultra-private, rich man to be the crime-fighting, ultra-intimidating Batman. But he had already been planning to thank their new benefactor in some way. 

Initially, he was going to write a letter and stick a few liquorice sticks in the envelope since Bruce Wayne wasn't exactly known for being much of a people person. But Dick was changing his idea into an in-person visit whether the recluse liked it or not.

Alfred was simply tidying a few things away when he suddenly heard a ping come from the elevator. Having not expected anyone to visit that evening, he grabbed his cane and stalked closer to the doors, ready to attack.

But when the doors slid open, his fighting stance deflated immediately as a small boy, holding a box with a big ribbon tied around it, looked up at him and smiled brightly. 

"Hi! I'm an orphan!" the child cheerfully greeted.

"Hello, I'm a butler." Alfred smiled back at Dick and watched as his eyes lit up with intrigue.

"Those are real? I thought you only existed in movies! Oh, and board games!"

Alfred chuckled at that. "Fan of Cluedo, are you?"

"Oh, but of course! With an icon like Mrs. Peacock, how could I not be?" Dick replied, having played the board game plenty of times by then.

After all, Francesca had once requested donations of board games to save electricity, but still keep the kids entertained. Since plenty of people had old ones simply gathering dust at home, they ended up with quite the collection. 

"Anyway! I actually did have a speech prepared, would you mind if I..."

"Go ahead," Alfred encouraged, already endeared by the boy.

"Hi! I'm an orphan from the orphanage you do- Wait, actually not you, but the person you buttle for- Is buttle a word?"

Alfred nodded with a smile.

"Oh, nice! Go me!" Dick praised himself before he quickly tried to get back on track. "I should probably just ask if Mr. Wayne is home, shouldn't I?"

"He's home, but may I ask who exactly is visiting?" Alfred replied since the boy still hadn't told him his name.

"Oh, Dick Grayson! Nice to meet you, sir!" Dick said, balancing the box on one arm and reaching out his hand.

"Likewise," Alfred responded and shook the tiny hand. "Come on in, I'll get him for you."

Dick stepped out of the elevator then, letting the doors close behind him. "Thank you..."

"Alfred Pennyworth," the butler formerly introduced himself.

"Oh, lovely name!" Dick responded sincerely. 

"Thank you," Alfred replied before he turned around.

"It suits you too! You really do look like that lady on the back of a penny!" Dick continued, having seen the British version of the coin from tourists at the circus. 

Alfred didn't know whether or not he should be offended by the fact that the child was saying he looked like the Queen, who was thirty years his senior. Since Dick had said it so earnestly, he felt he could only laugh as he went off to find Bruce.

The sound of the TV filtering through the penthouse was the biggest giveaway as to his whereabouts. Hence, he soon found Bruce with as serious an expression as always, watching the news in the living room.

"Bruce, there's someone here to see you."

Bruce's brows furrowed, finding the declaration odd since he wasn't one to get visitors. "Lucius?" he guessed.

"No, no, someone much smaller."

Hearing the amusement in Alfred's voice, Bruce turned to look at the other, but Alfred was already heading back to the elevator. Curious as to what he meant by that, Bruce followed close behind. 

Soon enough, he saw the short guest in question rocking back and forth on his feet as he looked around the gothic apartment. Bruce's eyes widened when he instantly recognized the kid he had met two months prior.

Dick was still dressed just as colourfully as he had before and his open expression hadn't changed either. The only real difference was that his hair was slightly longer to the point that he tied some of it back in a small bun.

"Bruce, this is Dick Grayson. Dick, this is Mr. Wayne," Alfred did the introductions for them, reminding the both of them that they were supposed to pretend that they had never met before.

"Hi! I'm an orphan from the orphanage you donated to! I brought you this cake to say thanks!" Dick said, proudly holding the box with a big bow on top up. "I made it myself and everything!"

"I... Thank you, but this wasn't necessary," Bruce responded rather coldly, even though he hadn't meant for it to come out like that.

"Why not? Do you not like cake?" Dick responded, his excitement deflating slightly, making Alfred want to smack Bruce around the back of his head.

"It's the red velvet kind!" Dick clarified, perking back up again. "I figured a fancy guy like you would probably like a fancy cake too!"

"Red velvet is fancy, right?" Dick whispered to Alfred.

"Very fancy," Alfred whispered back even though Bruce could obviously still hear them.

"And Bruce's favourite, isn't that right?" Alfred continued with slightly wide eyes, begging that Bruce would take the hint and accept the gift already.

"I- Sure. But how did you know where I live anyway?" Bruce asked, quickly jumping to the security aspect of it all.

"Uhh, it's on Google, my guy. You didn't know that?"

Bruce paused since yes, he had completely forgotten about that. "And you were just let up, no questions asked?"

"No, Ms. Dory asked who I was and she let me up!" Dick answered, nodding towards the housekeeper who had just joined them.

"He said he brought red velvet." Dory shrugged and walked over to usher Dick further inside. "Come with me, dear and I'll slice it for you."

"Oh, thank you!" Dick said, following Dory to the kitchen.

Bruce and Alfred then shared a look as they contemplated if they should be worried by the fact that their security could be bypassed with a simple cake. 

"I suppose I'll make some tea then," Alfred said, ultimately seeming on board with the interesting turn of events.

Dory and Alfred both chuckled when the cake was finally revealed. Atop the sponge covered in creamy frosting, was writing piped in a stark red colour, which read: 'Thanks for the money.'

Dick seemed to have underestimated how much space he had to write the blunt message, therefore each word became smaller and smaller. But he still managed to get the point across successfully enough.

"How is the orphanage doing anyhow?" Bruce asked as Dory sliced the cake and Alfred brewed a pot of tea to go with it.

"Pretty good thanks to you and Batman!" Dick said, sitting down at the dining table.

"Batman?" Bruce asked, trying his best to act confused as he joined the boy.

"Yep! He fixed our heating a couple of months ago," Dick said, looking at the other intently for any kind of reaction before Dory set a generous piece of cake down in front of him and he uttered his thanks back.

"I didn't think he was much of a repairman," Bruce nonchalantly replied. 

"Neither did I! But hey, whilst we're on the subject, what do you think of Batman?" Dick casually asked and started digging into the cake, which was rather excellent if he did say so himself.

"He's an interesting character." Bruce shrugged. "But please, tell me more about the orphanage."

"What's there to say really?" Dick shrugged too. "Miss Franny hired a few more people to help out and they're all really nice."

Bruce nodded along and Dick took note of how Bruce didn't ask who Miss Franny was. But whether or not it was because he had already met her or because he figured it out from context clues was tough to say.

"There's also a lot of construction guys around, but I don't really know what they're working on. Still, you should visit sometime! See it for yourself and all that."

"I'll make sure to do that," Bruce said since he had been planning on keeping a close eye on where his money was going anyway. After all, the last thing he wanted was greedy hands trying to steal it again.

"Great! So now back to Batman-"

"A fan, are you?" Alfred chuckled as he poured them all a cup of tea, even though Dick had already scoffed down his slice of the cake.

"Of course! How could I not be?" Dick replied but looked Bruce dead in the eyes.

Just as he was beginning to squirm under the other's intense gaze and insistent line of questioning, he was given a way out by the chime of a clock.

"That's great. Anyway, it's late," Bruce said in a laughably unsubtle manner and stood up. "You should get back to the orphanage. I'll-"

"Ah! May I use your powder room first then?" Dick interrupted, abruptly standing up too.

Dory and Alfred tried not to laugh at the boy's choice of words. But Dick thought that was what rich people called it since he had heard them do so in movies. The fact that it was always a woman who called it that flew straight over his head.

"It's down the hall," Bruce said with a slight smile.

"Thank you!" Dick said before literally running away.

Once he was out of sight, Alfred fondly noted, "He's a sweet kid."

"An odd one too," Bruce responded, sitting back down.

"Well, you know what they say, birds of a feather flock together," Alfred said with a smirk before sipping his tea.

Bruce rolled his eyes as Dory and Alfred giggled and clinked their forks together before they took a bite of Dick's delicious cake. 

Meanwhile, Dick rushed around the penthouse as quietly as he could.

'Oh god, I really shouldn't be doing this,' he thought as he crept into the study. 

But it was too obvious that Bruce was going to divert the conversation any time Dick so much as brought up Batman. Regardless, he was hardly going to outright confess even if Dick did manage to get him to stay on topic. Therefore, the amateur detective was left with no other option than to snoop.

Operating solely on movie logic, Dick started speedily pulling out books from the large bookshelf.

"Secret room, secret room, c'mon, show me a secret room," Dick muttered, hoping to trigger some kind of mechanism for a hidden door, but found no such luck. 

Since he definitely wouldn't have time to check them all before the others grew suspicious, he could only hope that it would be something else. The tall cupboard at the back of the room was his next best bet, but when he opened the doors there were just boring old shelves inside.

"Not Narnia inspired then," Dick mumbled before shutting the doors and pondering where else it could possibly be.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Bruce and Alfred started to grow concerned by how long the boy was taking whilst Dory was too busy happily eating her second slice of cake.

"Do you think he got lost?" Alfred asked.

"I'll go check," Bruce said before he headed out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Soon, he reached the lavatory and found the door was still open but Dick wasn't inside. Bruce's brows furrowed, confused as to where their guest could have gone until he heard a loud thud come from the study.

In an effort to see if the stone bust of a man's head had a secret opening, Dick had accidentally knocked over the table it was on and scrambled to put it back where it had been.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked, catching him in the act.

"Ahh!" Dick yelped and spun around, causing the table to fall over again. "I wasn't- I'm not-"

Bruce waited for some kind of explanation but no matter how long Dick floundered for, he couldn't come up with one.

"Alright, fine! I'll come straight out with it." Dick sighed in defeat. "I know you're Batman..."

Bruce's eyes widened as it felt like his heart stopped for a moment. No one had ever confronted him in such a way before and he had no idea how to respond other than to outright deny it. "What? No, I'm not."

"Ha! You hesitated!" Dick pointed an accusatory finger in his direction.

But Bruce scoffed and crossed his arms. "Because that's a ridiculous accusation to make!"

"I knew you'd say that," Dick rolled his eyes and copied Bruce's stance.

"That's why I've found your secret lair to prove it," he said with complete confidence, even though it was a total lie.

Instinctively, Bruce glanced at the grandfather clock at the side of the room, but it was still perfectly in place.

"Kid, you're being-"

"The clock!" His eyes had only moved for a millisecond, but Dick was watching him like a hawk and caught it.

He rushed over to the clock as Bruce stood there, gobsmacked that he had fallen for such an obvious bluff. Instantly, he regretted not practising with Alfred how he should respond to the accusation. But in his defence, he didn't think it would happen on a random Monday night with a child he had briefly met two months prior.

His panic only grew as Dick opened the door of the clock.

"C'mon, clock! Show me your secrets!" Dick said, buzzing with excitement as felt around for some sort of secret panel.

Being far too close to the Batcave's entrance for Bruce's liking, he rushed over to the boy.

"Robin, stop!" he said without thinking, which fortunately made Dick pause.

But before Bruce could breathe a sigh of relief, the boy quietly said, "I never told you my nickname, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce froze in place but his heart was racing. Silence stretched between them but Bruce couldn't think of some explanation as to how he knew that. Coming clean wasn't an option but was telling the kid that Batman was a friend of his really a believable lie? 

"Just get out of there!" he ultimately said, grabbing one of Robin's wrists. "It's an antique, you'll damage it."

"How would I-" Dick began before a look of realisation washed over him and he tugged on the pendulum.

And just like that, there was a sharp click, and the clock slid out of the way, revealing the tower's secret elevator.

"I'm the smartest boy alive and nobody even comes close, hello?" Dick said, positively amazed with himself whilst also in disbelief that he actually found it.

"Dick-" Bruce's grip on the boy's wrist tightened, preventing the boy from running straight into the elevator. But Dick had come too far to give up halfway.

With impressive speed, Dick stepped to the side and kicked the back of Bruce's knee, forcing the man down to his level. Thanks to the hold the other had on him, Dick swiftly pulled Bruce closer and headbutted his nose. Whilst Robin did hold back, it still very much did hurt, and Bruce instinctively let go of the boy's wrist to cradle his possibly bleeding nose.

Dick took the opportunity to rush into the elevator and yank the gate close before he pressed the button to go down. "I'm so sorry, Sir! But I had to!"

Bruce's dizziness quickly cleared but Dick was already heading down to the Batcave and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Shit!" Bruce cursed, getting to his feet just as Alfred arrived.

"What happened?" he asked in a worried tone of voice.

"I have no idea!" Bruce exclaimed in disbelief. "But the kid knows..."

They had to wait until the elevator came back up to go after him, but Dick was already well into searching the Batcave by the time they joined him.

"This is amazing!" Dick exclaimed upon noticing them whilst he continued to look around the station in awe.

"Dick, how did you even know?" Bruce asked, knowing there was no point in trying to deny it anymore.

"Oh, I may have possibly tracked you here," Dick sheepishly admitted as his gaze flickered around the room.

"Tracked me? How?"

Dick shuffled over to where Batman's motorcycle was and crouched down.

"I should probably take this back actually," he muttered as he unclipped the tracking device.

Bruce didn't know if he was more impressed by the boy or mortified by himself. He couldn't believe he hadn't spotted it and cursed himself for such a foolish mistake.

"Please don't be mad, Mr. Wayne! I swear I'm not here for any bad reasons! I just really needed to talk to you and you don't exactly have an email," Dick said, standing a good distance away from them.

Bruce realised then that the child was understandably scared about how he was going to react. Hence, he took a deep breath to calm himself before he walked over to the chair by his desk and sat down.

"Talk to me about what?" Bruce asked, trying to keep his irritation over his own failures out of his voice.

He was glad Dick's tense shoulders relaxed a little and he took a small step forward. "It's kind of a long story..."

"Then start telling it," Bruce responded, sounding much harsher than he had intended to. 

"Bruce," Alfred scolded him with a single word before he directed a gentle gaze towards Dick. "Take a seat, kid. We'll hear you out."

Dick hesitantly came closer, but when he reached the desk chair, he glanced towards Alfred, specifically at the hand pressing down on his cane.

"I'm okay. You can sit," Dick said, rolling the chair towards Alfred.

He accepted it with a small smile and an encouraging nod towards Bruce.

"Go on, we're listening," Bruce said, softening the rough edges of his voice.

Dick glanced back and forth between the two of them and wondered if the Batman was some kind of team effort. But he supposed he was the one who should be answering questions, not asking them.

"I... Do you know what happened to my parents?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"I heard about it on the news a while ago," Bruce answered, his voice much gentler than it was before, whilst Alfred simply nodded.

"They said it was a freak accident, right?" Dick said before a flicker of rage overtook his eyes. "But it wasn't! I swear it wasn't! Someone messed with the ropes and everyone who was there knows it!"

Usually, when Dick spoke loudly it was out of excitement or joy, therefore they were taken aback to suddenly hear him so angry like a cork had been pulled and bottled-up fury was being unleashed all at once.

"But the police refused to investigate it any further! They're the ones that kept saying 'accidents happen' but that's bullshit!"

"Hey, hey, we believe you. It's alright," Alfred reassured in a soothing tone of voice.

Dick took a deep breath to try to calm himself down since he hadn't meant to get riled up. But he couldn't help it. The further he tried to push the feeling down, the more violently it unearthed itself every time.

"Do you know what really happened then?" Bruce asked, to which Dick nodded with his jaw locked tight and his fists clenched.

"Yeah, and Haly knows it too, but he told me not to push it any further. He said that they must have been paid off since it was so obviously deliberate. But if I insisted on investigating any more, then they wouldn't end up arresting the man who actually did it, they'd just end up framing someone at the circus instead. Obviously, there's no way in hell I'm going to let it go, but I also can't bear the thought of someone else suffering because of me."

"What do you mean because of you?" Bruce asked with clear concern for the boy.

"How do you think I know who did it?" Dick said quietly, turning away from them as tears welled in his eyes. "His name is Tony Zucco, and he's a pathetic mobster. I heard him arguing with Haly the night my parents-"

Dick's breathing grew heavier as he tried to keep the tears at bay. "He was trying to get money out of Haly, but Haly refused. I heard Zucco say that he'd come to regret that choice, but I never thought he'd mean...

Still, I tried to tell my parents about it, but we were just about to go on, so they said we could talk about it later. I figured since it was Haly's business, it would be fine to wait. It wasn't like my parents were involved. But then they fell and... If only I had said something, they might still be-"

Dick's voice cracked and Bruce immediately rolled over, staying at the boy's eye level as he tenderly took hold of his small hands, making the other look at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Listen to me, Robin. It wasn't your fault. It doesn't matter how many times you've told yourself that, it doesn't make it true. Please, don't spend any more time thinking about what you could have done. You'll never know the answer, we can only ever guess the outcome. Say in one universe you told them, but they still didn't listen, would you blame your parents for what happened then?"

"No! Never!" Robin could never even think of blaming them for such an awful thing. 

"Exactly. You wouldn't want to blame them as much as they wouldn't want you to blame yourself. The only man to blame is the person who killed them. Don't carry the weight of his sins, Robin, that's for him to do, not you. He's done enough to you already.

So don't think about what ifs any more, no matter what scenario you come up with, it won't turn back time, it won't change the past, and it won't make you feel better. I know it's a lot easier said than done, but at some point you'll have to accept what happened, happened..."

It had taken years for Bruce to accept his own tragedy wasn't a nightmare he could wake up from. It had taken even longer to try not to blame himself for it, yet he still wasn't sure if he would ever truly manage that. But he didn't want Robin to experience that same torment.

He told himself their circumstances were different too. After all, he was the reason they went out that night. He was the one who was so close that he held their hands the entire time. Yet he was the one who didn't move at all. But Dick...

"I would have even done the same thing if I were you." 

"You would've?" Dick asked, his voice still shaky.

"Of course. You were just a boy, how could you have known..." 

Dick noticed the lost look in Bruce's eyes and lightly squeezed the hands that held his. It pulled Bruce back to himself, and he saw Robin offer him a small smile as if he was the one who needed reassuring.

Alfred stayed quiet though, to not interrupt. But he still silently hoped his boy would take his own advice once in a while.

"Do you know where Zucco has been since?" Bruce asked, hoping to be of some actual use to the boy and not lost in his own thoughts.

Dick shook his head, sniffled and wiped away the stray tear that escaped his eye with his shoulder since he didn't want to take his hands away from Bruce's warm ones. Both because he found it comforting and also because the Batcave was way too cold.

"No, and Haly doesn't know either, that's why I need you to help me find him."

"Why me?" Bruce felt he had to ask since he was slightly concerned by how quickly the boy trusted him.

"Because you're not like those crooked cops! You can't be paid off and heck, now I understand why since you're already ridonculously rich!" Dick said, noticeably looking around at all the tech and the giant car in the world's most outrageous basement.

"And you said it yourself, didn't you? You're vengeance! And that's what my parents need!"

Although his parents couldn't say for themselves what they would want, Dick knew they were good people and they would never stand for the injustice of getting away with such a heinous crime.

"If the police have already been bought out, then what do you expect me to do if I find him?" Bruce asked, not to decline helping the child, but so he knew for certain what Dick expected of him. 

After all, he already knew unfortunately well that some of his admirers could drastically misunderstand his goal.

Dick thought Batman might ask him that, yet he still hadn't decided what he wanted Zucco's fate to be. "I don't know! I just know I can't let him get away with it like it was no big deal! Like they were nothing. They were the most important people in the world to me and he... He had no right. Surely, you of all people can understand that."

Dick knew what happened to Bruce's parents after their case was mentioned on the news when the old mayor was killed. Yet even he couldn't imagine what it would feel like for the case to still be unsolved decades later.

"It's why you're doing all of this, isn't it? You wanted to look for your parents' killer too... Did you ever find them?" Dick asked.

After all, it was entirely possible Batman had found out who did it and ended their story in one of Gotham's alleyways, leaving behind just another unsolved case.

It wasn't like the public knew Batman didn't kill, he had never exactly done interviews before. Yet the mystery that surrounded him only enhanced the fear they all felt of the shadows; of the thing that might emerge from them and what it might do to them.

"No," Bruce answered even though he was ashamed to admit it.

"But you haven't stopped looking, have you?"

Bruce shook his head. With every head that turned his way at night, he couldn't deny that there was always a part of him that wondered what he would do if one night it was that man's face he saw again.

"Please, Mr. Wayne. I can't go twenty years of seeing his face in my nightmares and knowing he's still out there." Dick held Bruce's hands tight, not allowing the latter to let go. He simply couldn't take no for an answer, not when he couldn't find Zucco on his own.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Really?" Dick lit up again for the first time since he entered the Batcave and Bruce nearly audibly sighed with relief.

His heart ached to see Robin's light dimmer for even a short while. But if he was to lose that light for good, if the sweet boy in front of him was to turn out like him, he couldn't bear it.

Bruce could only nod in reply, prompting Dick to surge forward to hug him.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" Dick hugged Bruce so tight that Bruce couldn't tell if Robin was really hugging him out of gratitude or if he was about to suplex him through the table.

"But," Bruce said, tapping out of the bruising hug. "In return, you cannot tell anyone who I am? Is that clear?"

"One hundred percent! Your secret is safe with me! I promise," Dick said passionately, holding out his little finger.

They pinky promised on it, which meant that they were practically in a legally binding contract from then on, and bats flew around to celebrate. Or because Dick had accidentally turned on too many lights, which were beginning to annoy them.

"You know, I didn't think you'd actually have pet bats," Dick commented, looking up at the swarm above.

"You really are committed to this bit, aren't you?" he said, still confused as to where all the bat stuff came from.

But Bruce was allowed to keep one more secret about himself, so he shrugged. "They were here first."

"How many of them are there?" Dick asked, amazed at how many he could see once they started moving.

"I've never exactly counted," Bruce replied, standing up to turn off the unnecessary lights after hearing his landlords' complaints loud and clear.

"One, two, three, fo-"

"Don't you have a curfew?"

"Oh, come on! I wanna make friends with a bat!" Dick pleaded.

Whilst Bruce was glad that Dick's mood had brightened after they delved into such a heavy topic, he would rather not be clocked with a frying pan again.

"You'll be late, and Miss Franny will worry," he urged but Dick completely ignored him when one of the bats swooped down and hung upside down from an antenna on Batman's equipment.

"Oh! A little baby! Hi!" Dick cooed, slowly approaching the fruit bat in order to not spook her.

"Susan's older than you and unless you've got fruit, she doesn't like to be disturbed," Bruce said, tapping his foot by the elevator.

"Do we have fruit then?" Dick asked, not deterred in the slightest.

"No-"

"The mini fridge's over there." Alfred, the traitor, pointed out.

"Yes! Thank you!" Dick cheered and dashed over to it.

Meanwhile, Bruce and Alfred looked at each other and communicated without words. 

Bruce raised his brows. 'Why do you keep siding with him?'

Alfred looked Bruce up and down. 'Oh, I'm sorry, is a child not listening to you annoying?'

"Does she like oranges or bananas more?" Dick asked, searching the fridge.

Alfred looked pointedly at Bruce, who begrudgingly admitted, "Bananas."

Following the suggestion, Dick grabbed a banana and peeled it back for Susan.

"Here you go, little lady," Dick said happily, holding the banana out for the bat to nibble on. 

Dick giggled when she then started taking massive bites and munching on it with the goofiest expression. Bruce knew the boy was odd, but he didn't expect him to be so unafraid of the creature. After all, when he was the same age, he was still terrified of bats.

The first experience he had with them was when he was seven and a bat slammed against his bedroom window in the middle of the night. He had screamed so loudly that it woke the whole house up. But to his dismay, when his parents came to ask what was wrong, his dad ended up opening the window to check if the bat was injured. Turns out it wasn't, and it flew straight in. Bruce had screeched even louder as the bat rapidly flew around. The only one who had been giggling then was his mother as he had dragged her away to hide. 

Alfred thought he would have had a near heart attack when he found out what was living in their basement. But Bruce had long grown used to sharing the space with them since then, to the point of even having a favourite.

"Which one of you called her Susan anyway?" Dick asked. 

"Neither of us, the vet did," Bruce answered. 

"You take them to the vet?" Dick laughed.

"No, just Susan. I found her outside with an injured wing," Bruce replied. He had still been scared of bats at the time, but he felt bad for the poor thing and helped her out anyway.

"Do vets even know how to treat a bat?" Dick asked as Susan finished off the last of her banana.

"That was my first question too," Bruce mumbled, embarrassed to admit that he hadn't really thought it through. 

However, Alfred's phone ringing interrupted them. "We should get back upstairs," he said when he saw who was calling. "Dory still doesn't know about any of this."

"She doesn't?" Dick responded with wide eyes. "How many people do know?"

"Currently, only the people in this room," Alfred answered whilst poor Dory upstairs wondered where on earth they had all disappeared to.

"Really?!" Dick exclaimed, having not realised he was joining such an exclusive club.

"Yes, really, and I'd prefer for that number not to get any higher tonight, so let's go. I'll give you a ride back," Bruce urged. 

"Can't we go in the Batmobile?" Dick asked, wondering why they had to go back up the elevator.

"The what?"

"The Batmobile! You know like the Incredibile!" Dick excitedly pointed to the tank of a car close by. "It's a cool car, so it's gotta have a cool name too, that's just the rules!"

"And yet I'm still waiting to hear a cool name," Bruce bluntly responded.

"Oh, come on! The Batmobile is a cool name! Right, Alfred?"

"Very right, sir," Alfred agreed with a grin since the kid was practically acting like he owned the place.

"See!"

"We're going in the regular car," Bruce insisted, opening the elevator gate.

"Please, Batman! It's so cool!" Dick overdramatically pleaded as he scurried closer to the car.

"No," Bruce refused again since there was no such thing as being subtle whilst driving around in a car like that.

"How about the Batcycle then?" Dick offered a reasonable alternative but Bruce wasn't budging.

"Are you just going to put 'bat' in front of everything?"

"Isn't that what you do already?"

"...No."

Alfred raised his brows at that since he knew that's exactly what Bruce does.

"Fine! If I can't go in the Batmobile or the Batcycle, then can I at least have a batarang?" Dick requested, pointing to the display case full of them.

"What for?" Bruce responded, not seeing any scenario where giving the child such a weapon was a good idea.

"A souvenir." Dick shrugged.

"This isn't a gift shop!" Bruce exclaimed over the sound of Alfred laughing and walked over to Dick who was opening the case anyway.

"But you've got so many! And I don't know if you've noticed, but we live in a rather dangerous city," Dick said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Oh, do we now?" Bruce said very sarcastically, also with his hands on his hips.

"I think it would be very responsible of me to have some kind of self-defence weapon, just in case. Don't you think, Alfred?"

"You do have a lot of them, Bruce."

Bruce glared at the butler of no help who had an incredibly smug smile on his face, but gave up anyway. 

"Fine. You can have one, but you need to keep it hidden and if anyone catches you with it then you say you found it in an alleyway, got it?" he said, taking a batarang out.

"Got it!" Dick reached for it, but Bruce held it high above the boy's head.

"And you can only use it as a last resort in emergencies, okay?" 

"Okay, okay, emergencies only! Now gimme!" Dick said, jumping up to grab the batarang that was being waved around.

Once he was holding it he couldn't believe he actually got to keep something so cool. "Yay! Thank you!"

Bruce sighed as he heavily doubted that was a wise decision, yet couldn't bring himself to regret it when Dick was so clearly beaming. However, he could at least finally take Dick's hand and lead him to the elevator since the boy was too distracted admiring the weapon to protest again.

But as the doors closed, Dick snapped out of his daze to wave and say, "See ya later, Alfred!"

"See you later, Dick!"

The windscreen wipers swept away the rain yet the car lights in front of them still appeared blurry to Dick's tired eyes. But he still had more to discuss with the Batman and tried to shake away his sleepiness.

"So, if I have to go back tonight, then when are we going to start our investigation?" he asked. 

"I'll start looking into it when I get back," Bruce replied, prompting Dick to sit up straighter.

"What? Without me? But I thought we'd do it together!"

"There will be nothing for you to do, Dick," Bruce said to which Dick scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Listen, you've already done the most important part in finding out who did it. You can leave the rest to me now, I'll still keep you updated on what I find every step of the way."

Dick sighed but mulled over Bruce's words until he eventually said, "You promise to not keep me in the dark about it?"

"I promise," Bruce said sincerely, knowing the kid would likely venture off on his own if he didn't.

"Alright then, what are you going to do first?" Dick asked, uncrossing his arms but still slouching in his seat.

"I have a database full of more information than I could ever hope to keep in my head. I'll look through it tonight and see if I can find anything about Zucco."

"What kind of information?" Dick asked, full of curiosity of the inner workings of the vigilante.

"Logs I've made after scouting, crime reports from the media, case information that is technically confidential to the police department, the FBI, the CIA-"

"Is it legal for you to have?" Dick interjected.

"No, but vigilantism isn't exactly legal either, which is another reason why it's better for me to investigate on my own," Bruce said as he only just thought about the legal implications of getting the kid involved. 

"Well, I have already committed a crime. Just yesterday, in fact!" Dick said as if he was proud of it.

"What?" Bruce uttered whilst he tried to keep his eyes on the road.

"I was the one who turned on the Bat-signal... You didn't figure that out already?" Dick smirked.

"No, I did..." the genius detective lied since he had not yet connected the dots. "You did it to put that tracker on my bike, right?"

"Right, you are!"

"That was a pretty clever plan, by the way..." Begrudged as he was to admit it, Bruce felt Robin deserved some praise for managing to get one over on him.

"Thanks! I came up with it all by myself!" Dick said, his chest puffed up with pride.

"Still, from now on, no using the signal. Just call me, I'll even give you my number."

Dick gasped as if he had just won a prize and pulled out his phone to add the new contact number Bruce gave him. For his first text, he sent the catchphrase he used to use at the beginning of his performances at the circus: 'Never fear! The Boy Wonder is here!'

"I've texted you, so you have mine too! Text me as soon as you find something, okay?" 

"I will," Bruce said with a slight smirk at the audacity of the boy to keep bossing him around.

"Good, I'm glad that's settled then." Dick nodded as if they had just concluded a productive business meeting.

But it would still be a while before they arrived at the orphanage. Therefore, Dick turned on the radio and fiddled with the dial.

"You like jazz?" he asked, tuning into a late-night, smooth jazz radio station. 

"It's alright." Bruce smiled ever-so-slightly.

"Do you listen to goth music?" Dick asked, wondering if that was more his sort of jam.

Bruce chuckled, unsurprised by the question. "Sometimes."

"Do you have a favourite artist?" Dick asked, sparking up some casual chit-chat to get to know each other a little better.

During their ride back, they managed to cover a range of trivia from their favourite songs to 'If you could have any superpower, what would it be?'

Dick was constantly asking questions to get to know people better. Hence, to him, Bruce was just one more interesting person to learn about. But for Bruce, who couldn't remember the last time he thought about such silly questions like 'Would you consider a cereal a soup?', it was a rather nice change of pace.

Still, they reached their destination eventually, and Bruce let Dick borrow his umbrella even though it was only a short walk away. Still, Bruce waited until Dick waved back and closed the door to the orphanage behind him before he drove back home and spent the rest of his night on his computer, and searching through files. 

After all, Bruce had every intention of sticking to his word. He would find Tony Zucco. Another one wouldn't get away again...

Chapter Text

As luck would have it, the most notable fact Bruce found about Anthony Zucco was that he used to work for Salvatore Maroni. The only problem was that Maroni was now dead. Therefore, his only solid lead on the case was a dead end too.

Still, it wasn't all bad news; at the very least, he learnt that Zucco was involved in drug trafficking. But the recent gang war that erupted in Gotham made a lot of Batman's information outdated.

Still, it wouldn't surprise him if Zucco found himself working for whoever climbed to the top next. Like bees to pollen, the underlings always went wherever the money was most abundant without a shred of any sentimental loyalty.

But Bruce couldn't look into it any more as his sore eyes were begging him to let them rest already. So, he went up to his room with a heavy sigh and got a few hours of shut-eye before he was woken up by the sound of Alfred cooking in the kitchen.

After trudging down the stairs, Bruce made it to the kitchen, where Alfred was stirring the pot of soup he had made and humming along to the records he always liked to play whilst he was cooking. Seeing his boy looking half-dead from not enough sleep, he insisted that Bruce sat down and have a bowlful with some nice toasty bread.

The hearty meal, and three secret shots of espresso he had when Alfred wasn't looking, gave him enough energy to go out for a while as Batman. But he didn't stay out for as long as he usually did since he had a promise to keep the next day.

Fortunately, the gates to the orphanage were unlocked this time, allowing Bruce to head in and ring the doorbell by the main entrance. The endearingly handmade windchimes hanging from the pitched roof kept him company for a while until he heard the lock click.

The door swung open and the matron of the orphanage stood before Bruce, appearing noticeably different from the last time he saw her. Although her eyes were still tired, her hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, and her long lilac dress looked new; it suited her especially well since a light lavender fragrance drifted through the air.

"Mr. Wayne!" Francesca said with wide eyes, one of Gotham's most talked about citizens being the last on her list of who she had expected to see. "What an unexpected surprise!"

"Aren't all surprises unexpected? Isn't that what makes it a surprise?" Francesca turned around to see one of the kids in the hallway standing there and eating cereal straight out of the box.

"I'm leaving." The little girl walked away before Francesca could respond, leaving the two of them alone.

"Forgive me for the suddenness," Bruce apologised. "But I was in the neighbourhood and thought I would see how everything's going. Is now an okay time?" 

"Of course! Come on in," Francesca said, stepping out of the way.

"Thank you," Bruce said, stepping inside and waiting for Francesca to shut the door behind him.

"I'm Francesca, by the way. We spoke on the phone a while ago, if you recall?" she said, seeming much more nervous than the woman who had previously been willing to beat up Batman on sight. 

"I remember. I'm glad we could meet in person, Ms. Rossi," Bruce said, courteously holding out his hand.

"The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Wayne." Francesca shook his hand even though she was clearly surprised that he remembered her last name, but still didn't say anything about it.

Bruce then followed her as they headed further into the building and Francesca offered, "Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Wine? Champagne? Whiskey-"

"Coffee would be great, thank you," Bruce interjected before Francesca could list off every single option available.

"The kitchen's just through here. Please excuse the mess. We're still having repairs done," Francesca said as they walked through halls with painter's tape on the walls and plastic sheets on the floor. 

Bruce could hear some drilling from far away, but it was drowned out when they passed through one of the completed rooms. It took Bruce a moment to even recognise it since so much had changed since his last visit.

The new sofas appeared bouncy and stain-free, the TV actually looked like it was from this decade, and the cushions around the low tables seemed plush and comfy. Even the cracks in the walls had been filled before a fresh coat of paint had been applied, and the damaged baseboards had been replaced.

There was also numerous kids hanging out in the common room this time, since they had just gotten back from school. A lucky pair had immediately booted up the video game console by the TV and were playing an adventure game together whilst a few other kids sat around and watched. 

The others were either drawing and chatting, studying with headphones on or playing with trading cards. Hence, they were all too busy to pay their guest much mind until a kid walked in from the kitchen with a juice box in hand.

"Aren't you that rich guy?" he asked without so much as a hello.

"Spencer-"

"Oh, yeah he is!" another kid chimed in before Francesca could scold him.

"You wanna play blackjack, Mister?" Spencer casually asked before taking a sip of his juice.

"Haha! He's joking!" Francesca said through a stressed laugh.

"No, I'm not," Spencer said bluntly. "I thought you said you wanted to get more money out of this guy, Miss Frann-"

"Ahahaha! Such a comedian this one!" Francesca loudly interrupted. "Anyway! Moving along!"

Francesca started speed walking to the kitchen, praying that Bruce would follow along. He did as he realised why the matron was so nervous and wondered if he should say something to reassure her that he would be willing to give as much as the orphanage needed. However, his mind couldn't help but drift towards another topic.

"Is Robin not here?" he asked, having not spotted the boy amongst them all.

"Robin? Oh, right! You met Grayson," Francesca recalled as they reached the kitchen. "I hope he wasn't too much of an imposition, by the way. I told him we could get the cake delivered, but he insisted on going by himself."

It hadn't been much of a surprise when Dick had asked her to buy cake ingredients so he could show his gratitude to their new benefactor. Although the timing of the gesture was slightly random, she had come to expect the unexpected when it came to Grayson in particular. But unlike some of Dick's other ideas, such as letting raccoons live with them, the thank you gift wasn't a bad suggestion.

Hence, she made a quick trip to the supermarket to get what he needed, then left it to one of the girls who had volunteered to help since she used to make cakes with her mom. However, she ended up having to make another trip out when the other kids grew curious about what they were doing in the kitchen and wanted to make their own cakes too.

They didn't have it in their budget to go on any kind of spree, especially since she had only recently bought new clothes for all of them. But they were still happy with the compromise of making and decorating some cupcakes instead, and it ended up being a fun afternoon. But it wasn't uncommon for Robin to be responsible for making the other kids smile.

It seemed that whenever he noticed they were down, he made it his personal responsibility to cheer them up even though he didn't have to. Sometimes, it was through magic tricks he had learnt at the circus, and other times it was simply convincing them to go out into the playground for a game of tag to get their minds off things. 

Although Francesca was grateful for the little boy wonder, she knew his bountiful energy could be a lot for others to handle. Yet Bruce didn't seem to be bothered by his surprise guest in the slightest.

"It's alright, I didn't mind," he said to Francesca's surprise. 

"Well then, I'm glad," she said, turning on the coffee machine. 

It was clearly a cheap model, but Bruce hoped it was at least an improvement from the old pot he had seen her use before. For her sake, that is. Bruce wasn't exactly particular about his coffee so long as it did the trick.

Even the coffee at his usual pit stop when he was out late at night didn't taste great. But the older woman who ran the diner was happy anytime he showed up since he had once saved her from being mugged and insisted that he could have whatever he wanted on the house for life. 

"And to answer your question, no, he's not here right now. He went to the park by the pier." The tone in which Francesca answered gave Bruce pause.

"Something wrong?"

Francesca's brows raised, having not expected the other to pick up on it, but she shook her head anyway.

"Oh no, it's nothing, it's just..." She sighed before explaining, "He wanted to go to the fair today, and Dean, one of the other carers here, was going to take him. But another kid woke up with a cold today, so he had to stay back to look after them. Unfortunately, no one else is free to take him, so I know he's a little upset about it even though he said he wasn't."

The hum of the coffee machine came to an abrupt stop, and Francesca handed over the steaming mug as she hesitantly added, "That was actually something I was hoping I could talk to you about?"

"I'm all ears," Bruce didn't hesitate to answer. 

"We can talk in my office then," Francesca replied, and Bruce followed her out of the kitchen and down the hall into a tiny office.

She gestured for him to take a seat in front of her desk, and Bruce obliged as she sat opposite him. Bruce tried not to be nosey but he was also so used to taking in every little detail that he couldn't help but notice a few things around the office.

One was the calendar on the wall that had so many scribbles on it, he'd be shocked if she could still make sense of it. Another was all the artwork she had displayed, which ranged from stick figures holding hands with 'Miss Franny' sprawled in crayon next to it, to rather impressive pieces of artwork for a beginner.

But the object that caught Bruce's eye the most was a framed photo of Francesca in her youth with a few other kids beside her. If one didn't recognise the background, then it would seemingly be a completely unremarkable childhood photo, but of course Bruce would recognise it. She was in the back garden of Wayne Manor. 

Bruce tried not to react to it and took a sip of his coffee to try to act natural. Fortunately, Francesca didn't notice Bruce tensing up as she took a deep breath, and her demeanour shifted to one of nervousness to calm. 

"Alright, in order not to waste either of our time, I'll be blunt about it. There's not enough of us here for how many kids we have, even with our new hires. These kids need as much attention and personalised care as they can get, but my staff also need to make a living..."

"How much do you need?" Bruce asked, also cutting straight to the chase.

"How much are you offering?"

"However much you need."

"Do you really mean that?" Francesca asked with a slight coldness to her voice. "Because if this is just part of some campaign to repair your family image-"

"It's not like that-"

"Mr. Wayne, it wouldn't be a ploy I haven't seen before," Franseca cut Bruce off in such a stern voice that latter held his tongue and listened quietly.

"A rich wannabe philanthropist shells out a show-stopping sum of money and makes headlines, all praising how much of a saint they are. Then they all move on to the next news story. Then a year down the line, everyone somehow still remembers how generous the rich man was, but no one stops to wonder, hey, whatever happened to that orphanage anyway? Because who cares? It's old, uninteresting news if it doesn't involve a name like yours."

Francesca's gaze turned icy, and her tone of voice was even more bitter than the coffee, which was getting cold. But she wasn't done, and Bruce stayed silent.

"Little do they know that the money dried up quickly, and I have to let go of whoever the kids become attached to. The walls start to crack again, but this time we can't afford to fill them. Then the boiler breaks and the council delays fixing it for months, and would you look at that? We're right back to where we started."

The anger in her eyes dimmed to one of exhaustion and hopelessness as she looked at Bruce straight in his eyes.

"I want you to give a straight answer here, Bruce. Are you here to help temporarily, or are you in this for the long haul? And don't just tell me the answer that'll make you look like the good guy. I need a real, honest answer so I can plan accordingly. If the donations are only going to be coming in these next few months, then I'll need to make sure the money lasts as long as possible. But if this is a real commitment from you, then I can start giving these kids the best life they can have here as soon as possible. So, which is it?"

Bruce felt he had to choose his words carefully as he was clearly treading on thin ice. But what more could he offer than his word?

"I'm not going to abandon this place, you have my word on that," Bruce said with a deep sincerity that even Francesca noticed. "Even in the event of my sudden death, the people I trust wholeheartedly will take over from there."

"You're certain of that?"

"As much as I can be."

It was something he had talked about with Alfred and Lucius when he had first become more involved with his finances. Lucius had reassured him that he would handle it if the worst came to fruition, but he also assured him that nothing was going to happen to him.

Alfred didn't say much other than agreeing. He didn't exactly like to think about anything happening to his boy. Especially, not so soon after he had been discharged from the hospital due to an attack that could have left one of them alone. Still, Bruce knew he could trust Alfred even if he hadn't said anything at all. But he knew that was a type of trust that had to be earned.

"Is there anything I can say to make you trust me?" 

"Wholeheartedly? No, probably not," Francesca admitted and sat back in her chair.

Bruce glanced at the photo on her desk again and understood why she couldn't even without her having to say it.

"You recognise it, don't you?" she asked, noticing Bruce look at it this time.

Bruce nodded and braced himself for what she had to say. But instead of harsh words, he heard a drawer sliding open.

"You probably don't remember our first meeting though, do you?" She handed Bruce a photo she kept in her desk drawer. 

It was taken the day his father announced his mayoral campaign and creation of the renewal fund in the old orphanage. Bruce and Martha had both gone with him to support him, but they ended up wandering around the orphanage whilst everything was being set up.

The kids had recognised Martha since it wasn't her first visit, but it was Bruce's. Yet a trio of girls had still invited him to play with them and the dolls Martha had gifted them during her last visit.

"I know what you're probably thinking, but we didn't all turn out like Ed," Francesca said, reminding Bruce of the last conversation he'd had with an orphan who grew up in the manor. 

"I still think they were good people. Sometimes I even have dreams about how our lives could have gone if they hadn't died and the fund hadn't been stolen... I know it's twenty years too late, and you're probably tired of hearing it, but I am sorry for your loss."

Bruce's eyes widened as he couldn't deny that it hadn't been what he had expected her to say.

"I would have liked to have a mother like that, even if it was just for a little while," she added quietly as if she was talking to herself more than anyone else with a lost look in her eyes.

Bruce assumed she had aged out of the system like most of Gotham's orphans and felt a pang of sympathy for her. But he figured it was probably twenty years too late to offer any words of comfort. 

"I want you to swear to me on her that you won't turn your back on these kids. Maybe then I'll have some shred of hope."

"I want you to have more than a shred, Miss Franny, but I know I'll have to earn that. So, I swear on my mother that I will do everything I can for these kids," Bruce earnestly promised.

"You sound like one of my kids calling me that." Francesca's lips stretched into a small, amused smile as she sat up straighter. "But, since you're frankly my only option, I'll be holding you to that..."

With the crux of the matter out of the way, they delved into some of the specifics of their arrangement and the upcoming plans for the orphanage for about an hour until the kids were in need of Francesca's attention again. They arranged to meet again the following week to plan further together before Bruce said a quick goodbye to the kids and headed back to his car.

He stayed there for a moment, listening to the rumble of the engine, knowing he could simply go home and visit Dick another time. But he couldn't help but think about how disappointed the kid must be. It started to eat away at him too much to ignore, and he was driving to the park before he knew it. 

For once, it was actually a sunny day in Gotham with the birds chirping and the gentle breeze swaying the trees. There were kids running around the grass area and parents catching up on the benches by the fountain. But Bruce couldn't spot Dick anywhere, not amongst the sunbathers, the picnickers or dog-walkers.

Whilst they all seemed to be soaking in the sun, it was far too bright for the nocturnal man's eyes. Hence, Bruce donned his sunglasses and went looking for the boy. 

As he walked along the winding path, a ball came rolling towards him and a thrilled dog followed shortly after. Due to the shaggy little thing's bouncing, he assumed it wanted the ball to be thrown again. So Bruce tossed the ball back in the direction it came from, and the owner gave him a wave of thanks when the dog happily ran after it.

Bruce noticed then that he wasn't the only one looking his way as a few other Gothamites seemed to be staring at him. Thankfully, he noticed a path formed of worn-down grass between the trees and diverted away from the park's centre.

At the end of the desire path, Bruce found the old playground overlooking the glistening sea. It appeared to be empty, which wasn't too surprising since the equipment seemed like it had seen better days. But Bruce realised there was still one child there due to the squeaky sound of a rusted swing.

At the edge of the playground, there was Dick languidly swinging back on forth on the swing, except he wasn't sitting on it properly. Instead, Dick had his stomach pressed against the seat and was flopped over it like a wet noodle.

If the boy wasn't so clearly moping, Bruce would've found it a rather funny sight. But his concern was greater than his amusement as he approached the boy.

"Robin." 

Bruce's voice started Robin into a forward roll off the swing with a yelp.

"Mr. Wayne!" Dick exclaimed in shock, looking up at Bruce from where he landed by the latter's feet.

"Bruce is fine," Bruce responded, casually catching the chain of the swing before the seat could hit the back of Dick's head when it swung back.

"Oh, good for Bruce," Dick replied, seeming slightly confused as to why Bruce was suddenly referring to himself in third person.

"I meant, you can just call me Bruce."

"Ohh! Okay!" Dick giggled. "That one was actually genuine!" he said since he hadn't actually tried to be cheeky that time.

"So, what are you doing here, Bruce?" he asked as he sat back on the swing, properly this time.

"I was looking for you," Bruce answered, sitting down on the swing next to him.

"You were? Do you have a lead on the case?" Robin eagerly replied. 

"I found some information, but the recent gang war has made things complicated."

"Gang war? What gang war?" Dick scrunched up his button nose.

"You didn't hear about everything that happened with the Falcones and the Maronis?" It had been all the news could talk about at the time.

Yet, Dick shook his head. "No, when was this?"

"Soon after the flood."

"Dammit! That was when we were having a Mario Kart tournament," Dick cursed, seeming irritated to have missed anything that was related to the case.

Yet Bruce was glad. "It's good that you don't know. The details weren't pleasant."

"But Zucco was involved?" Dick asked since that was the only detail he really cared about.

"Somewhat, but the biggest takeaway is that his boss is dead now. Some of his men may take that as a chance to quit, but those types are always a small minority. Zucco will most likely be trying to find new footing in the drug trade. But whether that's finding someone else to be an underling for or trying to make it on his own is tough to say."

"Wait, he deals with drugs? Why was he at the circus then? No one there uses them!" The only type of drugs Dick really knew about were performance enhancing ones. But they had only ever been brought up in conversations about competitions, never when Tony Zucco was the topic.

"Because making and transporting drugs costs money, but if business isn't going well or there are hiccups in the road, then they don't like their profits going down. Extorting money out of whoever's vulnerable usually makes up for it. But it's riskier, with drugs they have something their buyers want, but when they offer 'protection' to people who don't want anything to do with them, then they've got to deal with rejection when their intimidation tactics don't work. They never usually handle that well."

"Do you think he's done that to a lot of people then?" Dick asked, his voice sounding small out of worry. But he hadn't had much explained to him before.

The only thing that he had been told was that Zucco was a mobster who tried to get money from Haly, and then took his anger out on his star performers after the circus owner refused. They claimed he wouldn't understand if they tried to explain it any further since he was just a kid. But not explaining it to him just left Dick even more confused.

But Bruce answered honestly, "It's likely."

Dick was quiet for a moment as he had a pained look on his face and fiddled with one of his rings.

Bruce started to worry he had been too blunt about it and tried to think of words of comfort but Dick spoke first.

"So, what's phase two then?"

"Well, for now, I'll have to become more up-to-date with the current drug scene since I've mostly been focused on violent crime up until now."

"How long's that gonna take then?" Dick asked, seeming impatient.

But Bruce could only shrug. "I'm sorry, I can't give you a definite answer on that."

Dick sighed, even though he knew it wasn't Bruce's fault that their justice would take so long, he still hated the thought of just sitting around and doing nothing in the meantime.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, and Bruce smiled softly as he figured he should've expected that question from the boy.

"Just take care of yourself for now."

"That would be important for the mission?" Dick asked with a slight smile.

"Very important." Bruce nodded which made Dick chuckle.

"Alright then," Dick said softly before silence settled amongst them.

The only sound that could be heard was the sudden breeze rushing by, ruffling their hair and slightly pushing Dick forward on the squeaky swing. It felt odd for the chatterbox to not be trying to make conversation for once. But Dick seemed to be too lost in thought to say anything. Therefore, Bruce tried to pull him back from his spiraling.

"I stopped by the orphanage earlier."

Dick was startled slightly when the other spoke up again and it took a moment for him to register what Bruce had said. "Oh yeah?"

"Francesca said you wanted to go to the fair?" Bruce asked, looking out at the island that was a short ferry ride away and known for its grandiose amusement park.

"Oh yeah, the circus is in town so I wanted to see everyone again, but I'm not allowed to go on the ferry by myself. I was thinking of swimming for it but there's slightly too many signs around about the water being polluted," Dick said, pointing to the sign by the railing before the sea which stated as much. "I would've still done it if they didn't have to look after me if I got sick though."

"Kid, it's a six-mile swim," Bruce pointed out, taken aback that the only thing stopping Dick was being an inconvenience to others, not his own health and safety.  

"So? The show doesn't start until later, I think I could have made it." Dick shrugged, not seeing it as a big deal at all. 

"Or you could let me take you?" Bruce offered. 

"You want to go too?" Dick's eyes lit up for the first time since Bruce had initially arrived.

"Sure, why not? I haven't got anything else to do today." Bruce shrugged, even though he would technically have to reschedule a few meetings, but they weren't important. (They were and Alfred would ground him if he wasn't doing it for Dick.)

"Are you sure you don't mind? You don't have to, you know," Dick said, realising the other was just doing it for his sake, no matter how hard Bruce tried to play it cool.

"I know, but I think it'll be fun," Bruce said and tried to offer a reassuring smile.

It came off a little strained but it made Dick giggle all the same.

"Yay!" the boy then exclaimed, jumping off the swing.

"Are we going in the Batboat then?" Dick asked with his usual excitement returning after being unbearably dejected just moments ago.

"There's no such thing," Bruce said, standing up so that they could head towards the ferry together. 

"Awww." Dick pouted in disappointment which made Bruce think about it for a moment.

"It's not a bad idea though..." he reluctantly admitted.

With time to kill on the ferry ride over, Bruce let Dick borrow his phone to doodle a design for the Batboat on the notes app. So far, they had both agreed that a massive shark fin was undoubtedly necessary, but they had yet to iron out the rest of the details.

"I think it should be a submarine too," Dick suggested whilst he scribbled.

"Double purpose. Not bad." Bruce nodded in agreement with his arms crossed.

Since it was fairly busy inside, they had decided to sit together on the long bench lining the outside deck, which gave them a clear view of the sea and the quaint sailboats passing by. Robin had used some of them for inspiration, but he was pretty much winging most of it.

"How about making it yellow? Then it can have a theme song too!" Dick said as he already began colouring the little Batboat in with a pineapple yellow.

"It would stand out too much," Bruce disagreed, but Dick ignored him and carried on merrily colouring in anyway.

"You should have a theme song too, you know," he said, making Bruce roll his eyes.

"I don't need a theme song."

"Of course you do! Even I have one!" Dick disputed. But Bruce already knew that, since Zucco hadn't been the only one he had been digging into during the past couple of days.

After hours of scouring online, he had managed to discover a little more about the Graysons, including the fact that all three of them had earned multiple awards for their athletic abilities. Bruce could understand why when he found an old recording of one of the circus's performances. 

Robin was just as much a showman as Bruce had been expecting, with one of the flashiest openings he had ever seen in his life. When the lights dramatically went out, a sweet voice would call out in the dark, "Never fear!" The crowd would then finish the rest of the phrase for him, cheering in unison, "The Boy Wonder is here!"

The spotlight would then come to life, his theme song would blast through the speakers and Robin would fly through the air dazzling with confetti fired from cannons. On either side of the trapeze rig, he had one of his parents acting as his catcher. They would toss him back and forth to each other, sending him high up to spin, twirl and flip more times than one could even count. It was all as impressive as it was cheesy, but that could be said for the whole show.

After all, they did tell a story throughout the show, which only grew more ridiculous as it went on. However, they seemed to be fully aware of just how over the top it all was. But instead of shying away from that fact, they embraced it wholeheartedly. Even Bruce could admit that their joy was infectious and made everyone watching not take themselves too seriously and simply have fun for a while.

"It could be a mix of Phantom of the Opera, The Addams Family and Mission Impossible!" Robin confidently pitched his idea for Batman's theme song.

But Batman himself wasn't convinced. "What would that even sound like?"

"Freaking amazing, that's what! Come on!" Dick encouraged but Bruce wasn't budging.

"No," he said firmly and hoped that would be the end of that discussion. 

Of course, he was quickly proven wrong when he heard the familar sound of a phone dialing and turned to see Dick holding his phone to his ear. Before Bruce could ask who Dick was calling, Dick gave him the answer loud and clear.

"Hi, Alfred!"

"Oh my god," Bruce muttered, yet still didn't take his phone back.

"It's me, Dick! How are you?" Dick asked, seeming extremely pleased with himself when he looked at a disgruntled Bruce. "I just have a quick question to ask: Do you think Batman should have a theme song?"

"Seriously?" Bruce asked to which Dick had the gall to put a finger to his lips and mouth, 'I'm on the phone.'

Gobsmacked to have been shushed by an eleven-year-old, Bruce didn't manage to get another word in before Dick spoke again.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, don't worry, I'll tell him... Alfred said that Batman should have a theme song and that you should give me twenty dollars," he said, holding out the palm of his hand. 

"No, he did not."

"Alfred, I'm putting you on speaker," Dick said, pulling the phone away from his ear and tapping the loud speaker option. "What did you just say?"

"Of course, I agreed that the Batman should have a theme song, and that Bruce should give young Dick here twenty dollars at the minimum," Alfred said with obvious amusement in his voice. 

"At the minimum," Dick repeated with a shrug.

Bruce immediately pressed the end call button.

"Hey! Don't you know it's a crime to hang up on the elderly!" Dick protested, clutching the phone close to his chest as if the device had been wounded.

"What do you even need twenty dollars for?" Bruce asked to which Dick scoffed.

"What don't I need twenty dollars for?" he muttered as he opened Bruce's messages and texted Alfred, 'Sorry, pal. We'll get him next time.'

But to Dick's shock, whilst he was texting, Bruce took out his wallet and wordlessly handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

"Wait, for real?" Dick asked, gingerly reaching for the money to which Bruce nodded with the slightest smile.

Dick gasped and accepted the money before he quickly called Alfred back.

"Alfred, can you tell Bruce to give a million dollars, please?"

Bruce hurriedly hung up the phone again, knowing the butler would actually do it.

"Eh, it was worth a shot." Dick shrugged and handed the phone back when Bruce held out his hand.

Having his entertainment confiscated resulted in the child being bored almost instantaneously. But they still had ten minutes left to go on the ferry, so Dick stood up and stepped forward to stand on the lower bar of the railing and lean over slightly.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked as he was worried that Dick would fall into the water.

"Drowning myself because you won't give me a million dollars-"

"Robin-"

"I'm kidding, I just wanted to see if there are any fishies in the water," Dick said, looking down at the murky blues below.

"Be careful, please," Bruce responded, knowing he would have to dive in after him if Dick did end up leaning too far over.

But Dick merely hummed in reply. 

Alas, Bruce was granted a few moments of peace and quiet before Dick started singing, "Na na na na na na na na na na, Batman! Na na na na na na na na na... That's the part where you join in."

Dick looked back at Bruce expectantly, but the latter remained silent with an unimpressed look on his face. 

"What? I don't have the orchestral capacity for my idea, so a jazzy version of the Jaws theme is the best you're getting. So, altogether now! Na na na na na na na na na na..."

"Batman," Bruce said in the most lackluster tone of voice.

"My god, you'd make a terrible cheerleader," Dick responded as he turned back to the water and continued to sing his new song by himself.

Over and over and over again until Bruce was forced to join in with some actual gusto for the sake of his sanity. Although it was incredibly embarrassing to sing a theme song for himself, the fit of giggles it erupted from Robin did make it worth it. 

Soon enough, they arrived at the island, which was just when Dick's caretaker decided to call.

"Hi, Miss Franny!" Dick said, answering his phone. "Oh, right! I forgot you're tracking me. But don't worry, I didn't sneak on the ferry! Mr. Wayne offered to take me."

Bruce grew nervous when his name was mentioned since he hadn't thought of a way to explain their time together without giving away his secret identity. Luckily, he didn't have to.

"Hmm, I'm pretty sure it's because he feels sorry for me, but if a pity ride is what's gonna get me there, then I'll take it!" Dick responded to Francesca's questions. "It's okay, I'm in trustworthy hands, Miss Franny! But worst case scenario, I'm not, then I'll soccer kick him in the dick and then run away just like you taught me!"

Glad as Bruce was that the kid knew some degree of self-defence, if Robin's headbutt was anything to go by, then he would very much like to avoid it being used against him.

"Uh-huh, okay, I'll tell him! See ya later!" Dick ended the call and put the cracked phone back in his backpack.

"Miss Franny said to let me stay out late and eat as much sugar as I want!" he then told Bruce, who of course didn't believe him.

"Sure, she did." Bruce smirked as he walked towards the fairground with Dick following along.

As soon as they arrived, they were bombarded with a cacophony of noise coming from the countless people walking around, the screams from people on rides and the chimes and jingles from the various games. But that was the least of their worries as they had only taken two steps in before someone had recognised the so-called prince of the city.

"Is that Bruce Wayne?" They heard plenty of people ask their companions whilst none of them were even being subtle about staring at him like they had spotted Dracula out in the daylight. 

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're famous," Dick said, picking up on all the mumuring going on around them.

Bruce tried not to squirm under all the attention, yet a part of him couldn't help but want to hide away from it all.

Fortunately, Dick immediately noticed his discomfort and took hold of his hand.

"Quick! Come with me, I've got an idea!" he said, dragging Bruce away to dash behind the stalls so that no one could follow them until they reached a small stall in one of the quieter areas.

"Hi, Dara!" Dick cheerfully greeted the woman running the stall who was busy reorganising her colourful pots of paint when they arrived.

"Robin! Long time no see, kiddo!" Dara replied. Since the carnival and the circus coming together was annual tradition, Dick was plenty familiar with most of the workers there. "You want to be a real birdie again?" 

"Thanks, but not this time! We're here for this one today," Dick said, excitedly pointing up to Bruce.

"Oh?" Dara already seemed amused since she could tell Bruce had not volunteered before he even said, "Seriously?"

"It's either this or have a lot of people follow us around all day. Your choice!" Dick threw his hands in air as if to emphasise that it wasn't up to him, yet he still seemed far too thrilled about the situation.

Naturally, Bruce was much less enthusiastic, but he would quite literally pick anything else over having people talk about him behind his back all day. 

"If you're worried about being the only one, then fear not, plenty of kids have already roped their parents into it," Dara chimed in, which Bruce had to admit was a little reassuring. 

"You pick then," he reluctantly agreed, making Dick clap cheerfully.

Dara then handed Dick the catalogue showcasing all the options available as she ushered Bruce to sit down.

"How about a lion?" Dick suggested after flicking through the catalogue, making Bruce almost regret agreeing already.

But it was too late now as Dara agreed, "A perfect pick!"

Out of respect to Dara, Bruce tried not to complain, even as Dick removed his hairtie and used it to tie the long front sections of Bruce's hair into a short pontail, which stuck up from the centre of his head. With his hair out of the way and his dignity in shambles, Dara began applying the slightly ticklish facepaint whilst she chatted with Dick about how the fair was going. 

It wasn't long until Bruce's entire face was painted in various yellows and oranges with some black and white detailing, resulting in the Wayne being successfully unrecognisable, but it was at a cost...

Dick doubled over laughing as even the facepainter tried to stifle her giggles over the deeply serious man adorning one of her most vibrant looks with a little topknot to boot.

"You look great!" Dick said with his voice being the same pitch as a chipmunk.

"Can we get on with this already?" Bruce asked as he paid Dara with a generous tip.

"If by that you mean, can we go have a blast? Then yes, of course we can!" Dick grinned and hooked his arm around Bruce's. "Thanks, Dara!"

"You're welcome, sweetie," Dara replied as she pocketed the cash.

With their arms interlocked, Dick started to skip and sing, "Oh, we're off to see the wizard! The wonderful wiza-"

"Stop it," Bruce said, freeing his arm, although he did secretly think it was a pretty good joke.

"Fine, but you have to admit, I'd make a great Dorothy if I ever decided to do Broadway!"

Bruce could actually see that being a fitting career choice for the little performer. A part of him even wondered if it would be an okay time to ask Dick if he had thought about his plans for the future. But another part of him was more focused on the fact that Dick's strategy had actually worked.

They didn't hear the name Wayne being mentioned even once as they wandered around, allowing Bruce to breathe a sigh of relief. But his relaxation didn't last long as a loud horn suddenly blared next to him.

He turned towards the noise and came face to face with a clown of all things. Instinctively, Bruce raised his fists up, ready to fight.

"Woah! Easy now!" Dick intervened as if he was calming down a raging bull.

But once Dick stepped in between them, the clown seemed much more interested in him than Bruce.

"Robin?" the clown asked as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. 

Robin then glanced up at the clown, and a look of recognition instantly lit up his face.

"Harry!" he exclaimed with delight and raised his arms.

The tall clown immediately crouched so that he could give Dick a big hug which the boy happily returned.

"How've you been?!" Dick asked, having not seen the clown/former homeschool teacher in a year. 

"I've been missing you, of course!" Harry said, pulling back so that he could cradle the boy's face. "I thought you said you were ill?"

"Ah, that was when I thought I couldn't make it, but then Bruce offered to bring me!" Dick said as Bruce relaxed from his fighting stance since the clown was clearly someone Dick trusted.

"Sorry, I don't think he's a fan of clowns though," Dick added, having briefly forgotten who Batman's greatest nemesis was.

"Ah, one of those! Don't worry, I'm just Harry," he said, offering a friendly handshake.

Bruce hesitantly shook the other's hand and was relieved when he didn't receive an electric shock for it.

"Do you work at the orphanage?" Harry asked since Dick hadn't mentioned any new guardian in his texts. 

"Oh no, he's just a rich guy who gave me money!" Dick said, seeing nothing wrong with that perfectly true statement, which was incredibly alarming out of context.

"Wha-"

"I'm the orphanage's new benefactor!" Bruce hurried to clarify. "I ran into Robin during a visit, and he mentioned that he needed someone to take him on the ferry since the caretakers are busy today."

"Why didn't you call me then?" Harry asked with furrowed brows. "You know I could've fit you in our car!"

The clown car specifically, which Dick had experienced once, and whilst hilarious to get out of, was incredibly uncomfortable to get in.

"I know, but I didn't want to be a bother!" Dick replied, making the clown frown and hug the boy tightly once more.

"You could never be a bother to any of us, Dickie! Don't think that for even a moment! Call us next time, okay?" Harry said, affectionately ruffling the boy's hair.

Dick smiled sweetly and promised, "I will."

"The others will be so happy to see you too!" Harry said, standing back up. "Are you heading to them now? "

"I'll wait until later! They must be busy with rehearsals, right?" 

"They are, but you know you're always welcome any time," Harry said, pinching Dick's cheek.

"I know, but I still have to show Bruce around first!" Dick said as if he was the one taking Bruce on a trip out and not the other way around.

"Have you been here before?" Harry asked, turning to Bruce.

"Only once, but that was nearly twenty years ago," Bruce answered, shocking both of the circus performers. 

"Twenty! Is it because of the clown thing?" Harry asked, shocked that the man hadn't run away yet if his phobia was that bad. "You know there's a game where you can wallop us right in the face right around the corner! Maybe that'll suit you!"

"Oh, good idea! Thanks, Harry!" Dick said, taking Bruce's hand to drag him away again. "I'll catch you later!"

"Have fun!" Harry said, honking his horn again as they headed in the direction of the stall he mentioned.

"Hey, relax a little, Bats. Harry's nothing like the Joker you know," Dick reasurred once they were out of earshot as he noticed how tense the other was. "That psycho has done a real number on clowns' reputations even though he doesn't have a clown's spirit at all! It's a real injustice, I tell ya! And you don't like injustices, right?"

"I suppose not," Bruce replied. But it was still difficult to separate the distinctive look from the madman, especially when his goons would often emulate his look too.

"Is it true that he's dead, by the way?" Dick's blunt question snapped Bruce out of his heightened state.

"Who? The Joker?" he asked to which Dick nodded. "No, he's not dead. He's in Arkham Asylum."

"Huh, I know the news said that but since they never actually showed him in there, I know a lot of people don't believe it," Dick responded, which was something Bruce had also heard before.

After all, only four people knew the truth about what had happened to the Joker. The madman himself, his harlequin, the Batman and the commissioner. Therefore, the media had no details to report on his capture other than the fact that it had been Batman who had brought him to the asylum six months ago.

"Did you think I had killed him?" Bruce asked nervously, hoping the kid would say no.

"I thought it was possible." Dick shrugged, not seeming as concerned about it as Bruce would have liked. "Have you ever-"

"No, I haven't and I never would," Bruce said sternly to which Dick slowly nodded.

"Huh... Well, feel free to work out your troubles this way then!" he said as they arrived at the 'Down-a-clown' game.

It was a classic carnival game with a very simple set-up. The player had to stand a few metres away from a wall lined with three long shelves supporting stuffed, pear-shaped clown figures and throw beanbags at them to try to knock them down.

The more one knocked down in sixty seconds, the higher the score and the bigger the prize. The smallest prizes being cute keychains and the biggest prizes being teddies, which were as tall as Dick was.

Bruce leaned down to whisper, "Aren't these known to be rigged?"

"Pfft! Only a little!" Dick waved off his concerns. "Give it a go, and if you suck at it then I'll give you a hand!"

The carnie running the stall seemed to be having on long day as he was lounging in his chair, and not paying them much attention. Still, he accepted the money Bruce gave him and said, "Help yourself," whilst gesturing to the bucket of beanbags.

Figuring he might as well, Bruce picked up a bean bag and threw it so hard that one of the clown dolls burst at the seams upon impact, causing faux feathers to scatter everywhere.

The carnie glanced up from his phone as Dick's jaw dropped. "Oh my god, please do not go near Harry again."

Bruce sheepishly handed over a fifty to the carnie as compensation for practically obliterating the target. "Sorry."

"That's alright, it's not the first time," the unfazed carnie said, accepting the cash. "Get it all out, buddy."

Although he was granted permission, Bruce still tried to hold back from breaking any more dolls. But he did take the oppurtunity to vent a little and took out a whole row of the clowns before Dick patted his back and said, "There, there."

Bruce then slammed another row of clown faces with beanbags until he figured he had gotten enough out of his system and the carnie let him pick a prize. 

"Which one?" he asked Dick who looked up at all the bundles of softness waiting to be hugged.

"That one's pretty cute!" he said, pointing up to a firetruck-red, fluffy teddy bear, which was about half the size of the kid and had a big heart shape on its belly.

"It's all yours then," said the carine who unhooked it from the display and handed it over to Bruce who passed it to Dick.

"You want me to carry it for you?" Dick asked, not even to reject doing so, he simply found it to be an odd request.

But Bruce smiled and said, "No, it's for you."

"Really!" Dick gasped with eyes twinkling. "You sure you don't want it?"

"I'd rather you keep it," Bruce said softly.

"Aww, thanks, Bruce! I'll just have to win one for you then! Come on!" Dick hugged the bear close in one arm and dragged Bruce away with the other before the latter could protest.

However, the next game they ended up playing was the 'Step right up and test your strength', high-striker. The aim of the players was to ring the bell suspended on top of a tower by striking the lever hard enough with a hammer to send the pluck flying to the top. If the player managed to do it, then they would win a free beer token for the beer truck nearby. 

Dick declared it would be an easy win for Batman and Bruce was prideful enough to fall for the bait and give it a go. Much to Dick's delight, he nailed it on the first try, and they went to claim his winnings.

At the truck, Dick got to chatting to another winner there, because of course he did, resulting in the woman and her friends challenging Bruce to see who could down their free beer the fastest. Since Dick seemed excited about it, Bruce agreed and they clinked their glasses together before they started chugging.

The other customers around started cheering them on until they emptied their pint glasses. It was a close call, but their new friend was the winner, and Bruce gracefully accepted the defeat by buying her another drink.

They then chatted for a short while longer until Dick wanted to wander again and they parted ways with the woman giving Bruce her number on a napkin. Dick laughed for a good five minutes over Bruce managing to get a pretty lady's number whilst still having his face painted like a lion, all the while Bruce was blushing under the heavy layer of paint.

Dick let it go though when they reached the next game that piqued his interest. It was the basketball toss game that gave him ten chances to throw the ball into the basket. Yet Dick managed to miss every single time by throwing the ball in just about every way possible except the right way.

It was frankly impressive that he didn't figure it out through the sheer process of elimination. From throwing overhead to under, throwing too softly to so hard that the ball bounced off the backboard and would have smacked the poor boy in the face if Bruce hadn't caught it in time.

But in Dick's defence, his family had always preferred volleyball, therefore no one had taught him how. Yet his failed attempts didn't get him down in the slightest. They only laughed more and more together the longer it went on.

Eventually, Dick ran out of creative attempts and lightly kicked Bruce's shin, claiming that he couldn't do much better. Bruce then made every shot which Dick felt was uncalled for. Still, he admitted defeat and asked Bruce to teach him how to actually throw a basketball.

It took a while and a lot of money, but Dick eventually got the hang of it, and they celebrated as if they had won the lottery, not a little toy llama, when he finally managed to make it three times in a row. 

They then moved onto the ring toss, where they seemed to be equally matched in their ability, resulting in them trying to beat each other's high score more than they were trying to win anything. Once Dick was in the lead, he insisted they moved on to the next game, making Bruce roll his eyes with a fond smile as he agreed.

Soon enough, they came across a claw machine, which Dick figured Bruce would be great at since he used a grabbling hook on a nightly basis. Bruce insisted there was little correlation, and the carnival wasn't some kind of training ground for Batman, no matter how many links Dick tried to find between the two.

But he gave it ago anyway and after a few attempts he managed to win a small plushie of Hello Kitty wearing a maid outfit, which they both agreed would be a present for Alfred and Dick tucked it away in his bag for safekeeping.

The following few hours were spent in a similar fashion, competing in the various silly games from balloon darts to skee-ball and winning more prizes than they could carry. Hence, they gave them out to any kids passing by without one. But then Dick felt bad for not giving any adults one, so they won some more and gave them to couples passing by who laughed but happily accepted the sweet gifts.

The only one they did keep was the first teddy Bruce had won for Dick and a keychain with a little bat on it, which Dick had won for Bruce on hook-a-duck.

After a while, they stopped by the food trucks to grab something to eat with Dick encoruaging Bruce to stuff his face for once. Finally, feeling far too full to go on any of the rides, they ventured into the house of mirrors.

Bruce managed to manoeuvre through the confusing maze with ease, but Dick couldn't figure out for the life of him. He tried to give the kiddo tips to help, but there were only so many times he could watch the boy slam face-first into a mirror until he felt he had to directly intervene. Hence, Dick giggled the entire time whilst Bruce quite literally carried him through the mirror maze until they made it out of the other side.

It was only then that Dick admitted that his feet were starting to hurt and asked if he could be carried a little while longer. Bruce made a mental note to buy the boy some better shoes later on. But he still agreed to give Dick a piggyback ride to the circus tent since the sun was starting to set and the show would be beginning soon.

Bruce set Dick down once they were inside the enormous tent, allowing the veteran to lead the newbie backstage to where all the performers were dressed to the nines and huddled together.

Instead of making his presence known with a simple hello, Dick decided to yell, "Never fear!"

They all turned to look at Robin with the same level of excitement as kids seeing Santa as they cheered back, "The Boy Wonder is here!"

In an instant, they then rushed forward to hug the little one and practically shoved each other out of the way to do so, making Robin giggle in their embrace. They didn't take it in turns to talk either, resulting in Dick being bombarded with questions asking how he'd been and telling him how much they had missed him whilst they refused to let him go and peppered his face with kisses.

Naturally, the commotion confused the circus owner, who arrived to tell them that everything was ready.

"What's going on?" Haly asked, not being able to see what they were all crowded around.

At the sound of his voice, some of them stepped back so they could reveal, "The baby's back!"

That sentiment prompted Bruce to look around and realise that, despite there being a few teenagers in the mix, Dick was undoubtedly the youngest one there, making them all have a special affection for him. Including Haly, who stood there in shock before he grinned and opened his arms out for a hug.

"Welcome back, Robin!" Haly said with clear glee to see the mini acrobat.

Yet Dick didn't move towards him at all. Instead, he simply said, "Hi, Haly."

Dick's tone of voice wasn't particularly cold, but it wasn't exactly warm either and everyone noticed it.

Haly lowered his arms, but he didn't seem surprised or angry about the rejection. There was only heartbreak behind his eyes, even though he still tried to smile.

Fortunately, they were saved from the atmosphere turning awkward by one of the technicians.

"We're ready when you are," she told them since everyone in the audience had taken their seats and were waiting for the show to begin.

"Will you come see us after the show, Dickie?" Victor, the ringmaster and Haly's son, asked.

"Of course I will!" Dick promised, having only arrived beforehand to wish them well.

"Then let's get on with the show!" Victor declared and dramatically swished open the curtain.

"Good luck!" Dick said as they patted his head in passing, as if he was some kind of lucky charm, before they headed out to a roaring applause.

Not wanting to miss the show himself, Dick grabbed Bruce's hand and hauled him away so that they could join the audience. They quickly found there seats near the front row and Dick put his teddy on the shoulders so that it had a clear view too.

Naturally, the show began with a spectacular musical number which introduced the circus members as well as the premise of the show. At its core, it was a very simple story; half of the performers would act as villains, led by the boulder-crushing strongman, Sando, and the other half would act as the heroes, led by the master magician, Sally. 

The story was kicked into motion at the end of the musical number when the ringmaster suddenly disappeared in a cloud of smoke. It was then revealed that the wicked illusionist had captured him! Therefore, the heroes had to find a way to rescue him, all while the villains attempted to capture the heroes too.

However, their second attempt was far less successful as the clown car 'broke down' midway through their arrival. Hence, the exasperated strongman had to help them the rest of the way by pulling the car, with eight people inside and one clown sitting on top of it, with a rope tied to the tow hook.

The crowd marvelled at the impressive display of strength whilst Bruce silently prayed Sando never became a real villian because he did not want to deal with a man who could easily lift four people above his head nevermind one man. 

The clowns then burst out of the car and Dick tapped Bruce on the shoulder so he would lean over.

"You okay?" Dick asked, sincerely offering his teddy bear in case Bruce needed comfort whilst the clowns were on.

"I'm okay!" Bruce yelled over the ecstatic crowd, feeling touched by the gesture.

But so long as he didn't see the clown he loathed the most, he didn't mind them much. Especially since Harry was the only one who really looked like a clown, the others appeared closer to jesters, with their jingly hats and brightly coloured costumes.

Still, they began throwing fake pies at the acrobats, who had to flip and tumble out of the way to avoid being hit whilst the crowd cheered them on. In the original version, that was the moment they would hear the famous chant for the first time as Robin would show up to save the day.

With his great agility, he would catch the plush pies and throw them back at the baddies until they ran away. Since the pies were essentially dog toys, due to not wanting to waste real ones, they would comically squeak upon impact. Yet Robin still remembered how he used to make extra sound effects himself by yelling, 'Kapow!', 'Zwap!', 'Bonk!', and 'Bam!', just for the fun of it.

However, since the Boy Wonder had faced an early retirement, in the new version of the show, the acrobats were saved by Foxy, the fire breather, who originally showed up in the second act instead. 

Having watched Robin's version, Bruce worried how Dick would react to the change. But when he glanced at the boy, he seemed nothing but excited. He even put his fingers in his mouth to whistle louder than anyone else there, encouraging Foxy who turned to Dick and waved at him when she exited. 

The magician's act followed, along with the villain's third attempt, and this time they managed to capture her and tie her to the wheel of death. It was a spectacle many had seen before, but the humorous twist they added was pretending it was actually the magician spinning around, not the knife thrower, who was causing the knives to miss her.

"I don't understand! How is she doing this?!" Philippe, the knife thrower, who was putting on a frankly Oscar-winning performance, appeared more frantic after every throw whilst Sally cackled as the knives missed her by a hair.

"I thought you said you had good aim!" Harry yelled at the jester.

"I do!" Philippe exclaimed as he pretended to cry as he threw another knife, prompting Mia, the mime, to pull a never-ending handkerchief from Harry's sleeve to dry his tears.

"How do you keep missing then?! She's right there!" Harry gestured to the wheel, which now had twenty knives outlining the magician's body.

"I'm doing the best I can, Harry," Philippe said, with his hands on his hips like a disgruntled spouse. "I'd like to see you try, if you think it's so easy!"

"Gladly!" said Harry, who grabbed a knife and turned to the wheel.

However, whilst they had been arguing, the acrobats had sneaked in and took hold of the wheel. They had even already lifted it together by the time Harry looked at them.

"Don't mind us, we'll just be borrowing this!" one of them said as they shuffled away with the giant wheel, making the audience laugh.

And so the shenanigans and spectacles continued. With twists like the contortionist they captured next revealing himself to actually be the escape artist when they trapped him inside a tank. And turns such as Philippe switching sides when he realised his talents weren't being appreciated.

Still, it wasn't long until they reached one of the most beloved acts of the evening. The flying trapeze. 

Standing on platforms high above were the Devon family, who wore bedazzled blue and white costumes that sparkled in the spotlights as Victor's voice bellowed through the speakers.

"Besties to the Flying Graysons! Soarers of the seas! It's the Diving Devons!" 

Dick chuckled at the updated introduction since he was the one who used to say that they were besties whenever they had been asked if there was any rivarly between the families. Now, it was the acrobrats way of honouring their comrades since it wasn't that long ago when there had been seven aerialists instead of four.

Although it was common for performers to be replaced after retirement, due to the nature of the Flying Graysons' departure, they all unanimously agreed that felt that it felt wrong to replace them. Therefore, the remaining trapeze artists came up with a new routine due to their reduced number. But Dick didn't stick around to watch it.

He couldn't. Simply seeing them so high up, grasping onto the bars as they prepared to jump was enough to make Dick's heart race and his palms sweat. His eyes frantically flickered back and forth to the wires supporting the bars and the wires keeping the net taunt, all while he started to feel like he couldn't breathe.

Just as the Devons were about to perform their first trick, Bruce suddenly felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned to Dick and leaned down slightly so that he could hear the other above the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out! I'll wait for you outside!" Dick said with a strained smile and left before Bruce even had a chance to respond. 

Of course, he didn't even hesitate to go after the boy. But Dick had walked away too fast for him to keep up. Once he made it outside of the tent, he couldn't see Dick anywhere.

"Robin!" he called out, but was met with silence...

Chapter Text

The sun was sinking into the horizon, illuminating the fairground in a deep orange hue as Bruce looked around for Dick. He even asked around to see if anyone had spotted him. Eventually, someone said they had seen a boy matching his description by the spinning teacups. 

But the sun had set and the multi-colour lights sparkled throughout the fairground by the time he found the boy. He was sitting in one of the giant teacups like they said, but he wasn't doing much spinning. Instead, Dick had set his teddy bear on top of the wheel in the centre of the teacup and was using it as a pillow whilst he rested his eyes.

Bruce's heart ached at the sight of the boy looking so small and tired. He didn't know how to comfort him, but he did know that he at least wanted to try. So, he stepped onto the paused ride and joined Dick in the giant teacup.

"Hey," he said softly, prompting Dick to open his eyes and sleepily blink at him. "You okay?"

Once he registered who he was looking at, Dick's eyes widened with clear surprise that he had been followed. He pulled the teddy bear onto his lap and hugged it close.

"I'm fine, don't worry! You should go back and watch the rest of the show, I don't mind waiting!" Dick smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Bruce didn't even need to think about it for a moment before he replied, "I'd rather hang out with you."

Dick blinked a few times with the colourful lights reflected in his eyes as he smiled gently. "Oh, okay... Do you want to spin then?"

"Why weren't you spinning before?" Bruce asked back, wanting to do whatever Dick wanted.

"Oh, I dunno, I just didn't really feel like it." Dick shrugged. 

"Why did you come here then?"

"Instinct, I guess." Dick shrugged again. "I used to always come here so I could spin around and pretend I was a little marshmallow in a cup of hot chocolate. But I guess I'm past that now... We probably shouldn't hog it if you don't want to spin either though."

There wasn't exactly a line of people waiting to ride the teacups, since most fairgoers were busy watching the circus, there weren't many people around at all. But Bruce still agreed that there were probably better places to sit.

"How about we ride the Ferris wheel then?" he suggested to which Dick nodded.

"Oh sure, if you want to." Dick's answer wasn't brimming with much enthusiasm as he seemed to be drained of his usual energy.

Yet Bruce still hoped that at least a little bit of the boy's wonder would return once he had a look at the amazing view at the top of the wheel. Hence, they shuffled out of the teacups and started walking over to the ride. Well, Bruce did at least.

"Dick, it's this way," Bruce said to the boy who was wandering off in the opposite direction even though the wheel was over two hundred feet tall and pretty hard to miss. 

"Right, sorry!" Dick snapped out of his daze and caught up to Bruce, who offered out his hand so the kiddo wouldn't get lost again. 

Dick took hold of Bruce's hand wordlessly and let the other guide him to the Ferris wheel, which gave them a serene bird's eye view of the city from the top.

To outsiders and Gothamites alike, nightfall usually brought about a sense of foreboding for what lurked in the shadows of its alleyways. But for those who called Gotham home, they also saw the beauty of the city too.

From the old masterpieces of architecture with spires that Van Gogh would have surely loved to paint, to towering skyscrapers dotted with lights due to late-night office workers and winding down apartment dwellers. It was a rather stunning sight to see it all from so high up even the cars looked like ants.

"What do you think?" Bruce asked since Dick hadn't said anything even though his eyes reflected the twinkling lights of the city.

"It's pretty," Dick replied, gazing out at Gotham's landscape. "Is this what the view from your penthouse is like?"

"Something like this," Bruce replied as he realised Dick hadn't ventured far enough into his home to see it. 

Dick simply hummed in reply and didn't try to make any further conversation, leaving that task up to Bruce. 

"So... Were you always in the circus or did you used to live around here?" Bruce asked, making Dick smile slightly as he realised what the other was trying to do and was grateful for it. 

"I used to live in one of those," Dick answered, pointing way down below to the trailers parked behind the circus tent.

"My parents were in the circus way before they had me, so I don't really know a time when we weren't travelling around. But fun fact! I was actually born on that bridge right there." Dick pointed way out at the enormous Gotham City bridge.

"On the bridge?" Bruce repeated, baffled as to how that happened.

"Yeah." Dick laughed. "Baby me decided to show up a week earlier than expected, just to be overdramatic and make everyone at the circus panic. They drove like maniacs trying to get to the hospital in time, but I ended up popping out right there in the RV. The video of it is pretty funny actually."

"There's a video?" Bruce responded, curious as to who would think to record at a time like that.

"Oh yeah! My Aunt Sally thought it would be important to capture 'the magical moment'. But said moment ended up being full of a lot of screaming, yelling at each other and extremely questionable driving up front.

"But then my parents held me for the first time and that was pretty cute to see, even if newborn babies do sorta look like little aliens," Dick said, scrunching his nose at the image of the little critter he used to be.

"It was on the first day of spring too, that's why my mommy called me her little Robin." Dick smiled but his soft expression was the epitome of bittersweet rather than his usual gleaming joy.

Bruce felt at a loss of what to say to cheer him up, but Dick snapped out of his daze before he could think of anything. "What about you? Were you born in a boring old hospital?"

Bruce nodded with a slight smile. "The one my father used to work in."

"Your dad was a doctor? I thought he was a politician?" Dick replied, seeming very confused since he had only ever seen clips of the late Wayne giving speeches during his campaign.

"He was a surgeon first, but he ran for mayor later in life when he realised preventing patients from coming in was just as important as treating them," Bruce responded, although it felt slightly odd to answer such a mundane question about his dad.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had been asked a normal one. Almost everyone already knew who his parents were, so there was no need to ask about them, unless they were trying to unearth some scandal about them.

Hence, his parents were only usually brought up when someone was telling him how tragic it was what happened to them, like he didn't already know. Or when he was being pressured to answer for them on matters that had been kept hidden from him when they were alive.

"Huh... Did he teach you any cool medical stuff then?"

Bruce smiled since of course, out of all things, that was what Dick was most interested in.

"A few things here and there," Bruce replied, cringing slightly as he recalled how his dad had a slightly skewed idea of what could be considered a 'fun fact', and made him dread the phrase: 'Hey, Bruce! Did you know-'

But this was also the same man who thought it would be funny to ask his patients, 'Why did the goose walk into the cafe?' just before they were about to go under anaesthesia. The patient would ask why in response, then the last thing they would hear before blacking out was, 'I guess you'll never know.' 

"But he mainly used his skills to beat me at Operation every time we played."

"He never just let you win?" Dick asked, appearing amused. 

"Never." Bruce shook his head as he fondly thought back to when his surgeon father would gleefully gloat about beating his seven-year-old son at the board game designed for players aged six and up. "It's alright though, my mom and I would team up to beat him at Monopoly as our vengeance."

Although their cheating tactics were subtle, Thomas eventually caught on and argued that their pieces should be stuck on the jail square for the next few rounds. However, the cheating duo argued that they were innocent and that Thomas should in fact be the one on the jail square for false accusations.

They ended up getting so passionate about it that they even ended up acting out a court case with Alfred pretending to be the judge. Ultimately, Alfred had sided with the guilty party, and Thomas was forced to declare bankruptcy after being sentenced to pay a fine as the devious pair cheered over their victory.

"Did you play board games a lot then?" Dick asked, his mood brightening to see Bruce smiling over the memory.

"My dad worked a lot so he tried to make it up to us with game nights one week and movie nights the next." Bruce's lightened mood dimmed slightly when he naturally thought about their last movie night together...

"What's your favourite movie then?" Dick asked, quickly trying to pull Bruce back from the dark place his mind was going.

"I don't know." Bruce shrugged. If he had been asked that question when he was a kid, then his answer would have been 'The Mark of Zorro.'

The first time he saw it was when was been woken up by the sound of the TV being on in the middle of the night. After he glanced at the clock in his room, little Bruce wrapped himself up in his blanket and went to see who was up so late. There, lying on the living room sofa and staring at the TV with a lost look in her eyes, was his mother.

Martha had apologised for waking him and said that she didn't realise the TV was on louder than usual, which made Bruce realise that sleepless nights weren't uncommon for her. She then paused the movie she had been watching and offered to tuck him back into bed, but Bruce asked if he could join her instead.

With the agreement that neither of them would tell on the other to the fellas fast asleep upstairs, they watched the swashbuckler film together. Bruce ended up loving it so much that he signed up for fencing classes the very next day. 

Martha kept it a secret until Bruce was good enough to spar with, to reveal that she had taken fencing lessons in her youth too. Hence, they ended up having fencing matches that included chasing each other around the penthouse, just to add an extra level of excitement to it, whilst Alfred pleaded with them to be careful.

But, little did Martha know, her son would soon become an insomniac too and binge through her entire film collection after she was gone. Bruce rarely watched a movie again after he finished the collection.

"Huh?" Dick uttered, finding that to be the most confusing answer Bruce could have given.

"I don't really watch them anymore, so I don't know if the ones I have seen would live up to my memory of them," Bruce clarified.

"Why don't you watch them again then and find out?" Dick lightheartedly suggested. "I could watch them with you? I think it'd be cool to watch some super old ones!"

Bruce scoffed a laugh at that. "The 'super' felt unnecessary, but sure... Maybe sometime."

They had already completed one rotation on the Ferris wheel by then. But even when they were reaching the top again, Dick seemed more interested in getting to know more about the mysterious man than the spectacular view.

"What about your mom then? What did she do?" he asked. 

"She was a philanthropist," Bruce answered.

"Uh-huh... Remind me what they do again?" Dick asked, having no clue what that meant.

Bruce smirked but didn't call him out on it. "She donated a lot of money to causes she believed in and people who needed it, organised a lot of fundraisers, backed the best activists, things like that."

"Huh, so she was rich professionally. Nice." Dick nodded making Bruce chuckle. "Do you have to go to school for that?"

"Not necessarily, but she did have three degrees. One in architecture, another in social work and the last one in public health."

Dick's jaw dropped at that. "Geez Louise! Who would want to do that much homework?!"

Bruce used to think the same thing when he was little since Martha was constantly studying but, "She always said that she liked studying."

One habit Bruce had even picked up from Martha was something she did whenever she became overwhelmed by how much she had to think about. To organise her thoughts, she would push the dining table out of the way and lay all her material out around her.

Little Bruce would often come to 'help' by adding his nonsensical drawings to the mix, which she would call masterpieces and claim they were very helpful. Thomas wouldn't really question it and simply tiptoed around all the papers to get a kiss before he left for work.

"Sounds like they were both really busy then," Dick noted, having had the complete opposite experience and finding it a little strange. Since he literally worked and travelled with his parents, too little time together was a pretty much unheard of problem for him.

"They were, but I still spent a lot of time with my mom since she used to take me along to her work a lot of the time. Some of the fundraisers were actually pretty fun, but I always liked the days she had meetings the most."

"Ah, of course, don't all babies yearn to be a part of the corporate world?" Dick jested making Bruce chuckle.

"I meant afterwards was my favourite part. I'd wait around until she was done, and then we would go get lunch together."

"Oh, that sounds nice! Did you have a regular spot then?" Dick asked, hoping they would be able to spot it from so high up.

"Lady Tottington's Tea Room on Tenth Avenue. But I haven't been there in twenty years, I don't even know if it's still open," Bruce mused, having not thought about the place for a long time.

But Dick was instantly whipping out his phone to google it. "Well, would you look at that, it is!"

Bruce squinted at the sudden bright light being shoved in his face, but once his eyes readjusted, he saw the screen displaying the tea room's opening hours. "Huh..."

"Maybe you could go with Alfred sometime?"

Bruce let out a snort of laughter at that suggestion. "Yeah, maybe... That would've made her laugh."

Even as a young boy, Bruce had stood out amongst the usual clientele, which consisted primarily of older women and young girls since it was a rather frilly place. Hence, he could imagine that he and Alfred rocking up would make them appear a funny pair amongst them all. But Martha wouldn't have cared, and they would've gone wherever she asked them to...

"Bruce?" Dick pulled Bruce out of his pondering, making him realise that it was time to leave the ride.

The two of them, or the three of them if Shortcake the teddy bear was included, wandered around together for a little while longer. However, Dick still didn't want to do much since his sombre mood had returned once he was no longer distracted. Therefore, they ended up sitting on a rickety bench on the pier as they waited for the circus show to finish.

They sat in silence for a bit, listening to the waves crash against the pillars beneath them. Bruce felt his guilt growing as he realised he hadn't done much to cheer the chatty boy up.

In fact, it was Dick who had made him feel a little lighter by making Bruce realise that talking about his parents didn't always have to be painful. Yet there Dick was, bearing his own grief and Bruce didn't know how to help him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce gently asked, accepting that Dick wasn't going to bring it up himself.

"Talk about what?" Dick nonchalantly replied.

But Bruce didn't even know where to start. He figured the kid might not react well if he directly brought up the incident. Especially, since it hadn't been long since Dick had had a near panic attack after looking up at the trapeze equipment. Therefore, Bruce decided to talk about what had happened before the show.

"Do you blame Haly for what happened?" he asked bluntly, Dick's reaction to the circus owner having made it obvious that they weren't on the best terms.

Dick's eyes widened before his shoulders slumped. "You gosh darn detective," he muttered with a pout, but didn't confess right away.

Still, Bruce waited patiently as Dick fiddled with the arms of the teddy bear in his lap, seeming unsure of whether or not he did want to talk about it. But just when Bruce was going to tell him that he didn't have to, he spoke.

"I know I shouldn't. It wasn't like Haly really did anything wrong, but I just can't help it. Every time I see him, I just hear that argument in my head all over again. It was even worse around the time it happened, and I- I did something really bad..."

"You can tell me," Bruce gently reassured as Dick kept his gaze fixed on the teddy bear.

"I had a bit of a meltdown- Well, 'a bit' is probably an understatement. But I just couldn't stop crying, so Haly tried to comfort me but I screamed at him to get away from me. I don't know why it happened but I just snapped. I told him that he should've just paid Zucco and that it was his fault they were dea-" Dick cut himself off, feeling overwhelmed with a toxic mix of guilt and grief.

But Bruce rubbed his back in comfort, which allowed him to keep going, "I know I never should've said that, but I was just so mad at everything. I thought everyone would hate me for being so mean since he wasn't the only one who was there when I said it. But no one acted any differently towards me.

"Even Haly didn't get mad at me. I thought he would tell me that I was just as much to blame, but he didn't. He just kept his distance until I was taken to the orphanage..."

"Was that the first time you've seen him since?" Bruce asked after listening intently.

"Yeah, and I know I shouldn't have been so awkward. But I still don't know if it's me or him that I haven't forgiven." Dick hugged his teddy closer and pressed his face against the soft fur.

"Well... In terms of what you did, you can already tell that Haly's forgiven you, can't you?" Bruce asked, knowing Dick was a perceptive child. He couldn't have missed the look in Haly's eyes or the arms that just wanted to hug him again.

Dick nodded subtly with his solemn expression hidden from view.

"As for what he did... I understand your frustration, Dick. But if you want to hold onto that resentment then you're going to have to ask yourself a very important question," Bruce said, prompting Dick to finally look at him. "If you were to never see Haly again after tonight, would you regret not hugging him?"

Dick's eyes widened, but he didn't have to think about the answer for long. "I think so..."

"Were you that close before?" Bruce asked, wanting to fully understand the relationship Dick was depriving himself of.

"Of course we were. Haly is like a grandpa to everyone in the circus, including my parents. He treated them as if they were his own kids too. Honestly, he was so devastated after what happened that he even said he was going to kill Zucco for what he'd done. I think he would have done it too if his son hadn't stopped him."

It was a conversation Dick had overheard shortly after he had snapped at Haly. They had all thought he was asleep, but their arguing in the middle of the night had woken him up.

"It wasn't like any of us didn't want Zucco dead, we just didn't want Haly spending the rest of his life in some awful cell. But Haly himself was willing to go to prison for it. The only reason he didn't do it is because it's called Haly's Circus for a reason.

"If he went away, then everyone's livelihoods would be in jeopardy, and he didn't want to turn his back on everyone else he still had to look after. I couldn't exactly blame him for that. Especially, when a part of me thought that I could be the one to do it instead..."

It was a statement that didn't surprise Bruce, yet one that he had been dreading to hear.

"Do you think any of them, or your parents, would want you wasting your life in prison either?" he asked, desperate to find any way for the child not to think of doing such a thing.

But Dick just shrugged, seeming more dejected than he had ever had before. "Who's to say that's where I'd even end up. It's not like either of our parents' killers has ended up there. If that's taught me anything, it's that actions don't always have consequences the way my parents said they would."

"They do, Dick," Bruce said ardently, holding the boy's shoulders so that he would look at him. "They might not always be the consequences we'd prefer, but they will face what they've done. There's not only one option here, and trust me, killing Zucco won't bring you the peace you think it will."

"How do you know it won't?" Dick asked, not seeming entirely convinced.

"How do you know it will?" Bruce asked back. "It will be impossible for us to tell until it's too late, and if the weight of another's life ends up being more than you can carry, then there will be no undoing it."

"I don't think I'd want to undo it though," Dick said candidly. "Don't you think he deserves it? You can't tell me that I'd be the same as him for doing it when my parents were innocent and Zucco's beyond guilty."

"It's not about that," Bruce said, making Dick scoff and look away from him. "It's not. It's about the sanctity of life, Robin."

"What does that mean?" Dick asked quietly.

"It means we're not gods. We have no right to take another human being's life, no matter what they've done, whether we think they deserve it or not, or how badly we want to..."

"I don't know if I believe that," Dick whispered and Bruce felt his frustration growing, but not at Robin.

It was the fact that he understood so deeply how the boy felt yet he still didn't know how to convince him otherwise.

"Then think about a fact instead of a belief," Bruce said, trying another path of persuasion. "No one's immortal. Zucco's life will come to an end eventually. It could be a decade from now or tomorrow night without either of us even having to interfere. Either way, it's not our responsibility to determine when that is.

"But what we can do is make sure that he faces the consequences of his crimes whilst he's still breathing. Let him live with what he's done, the horrors he's committed and the punishments they bring, and you'll find that a bullet may very well be giving him the easy way out after all."

Dick thought hard about the other's words for a moment and looked closely at Bruce as if he was looking for something yet couldn't find it. "You seem really sure..."

"That's because I am," Bruce said with unwavering certainty. 

And Dick couldn't see any doubt in Bruce's eyes no matter how hard he looked. Yet he felt a deep uncertainty in the pit of his stomach about whether killing Zucco would be right or wrong.

"Alright... We'll do it your way for now."

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. Although he suspected he hadn't fully convinced the boy, so long as Dick agreed not to act rashly and trust his judgment, then he would still have time to guide him onto the path he believed would be best for the boy. 

Dick also breathed a sigh of relief as he rested his head on Bruce's shoulder. Ultimately, he was glad the other wasn't mad at him for having such dark thoughts. But they had been bothering him for a while since he didn't feel he could talk to anyone at the orphanage about them. 

Therefore, Dick had to admit that he did feel a lot better after getting it off his chest as the furrow of his brow eased and the cool breeze swept by. 

"Good boy," Bruce said, ruffling Dick's shaggy hair and breaking the lingering tension in the air.

"What am I, a puppy?" Dick chuckled as he lightened up a little.

"You do kind of remind me of one," Bruce admitted, feeling relieved to see the kid laugh again.

"Oh no!" Dick overdramatically gasped. "Does that make us enemies then?"

Bruce's brows furrowed at the question, not getting what Dick meant until he clarified, "You never heard of cats and dogs not getting along?"

It was only then that Bruce remembered that during the entirety of their very serious conversation about morality, he still had his face painted like a lion.

"Oh fuck, I forgot about that," Bruce dejectedly admitted making Dick laugh.

"It really added to it, you know. I love getting to hear words of wisdom from Aslan," Dick jested, his usual mischievous demeanour returning.

"You're hilarious," Bruce deadpanned.

"Aww, thank you, Mufasa!" Robin replied with the cheekiest grin.

"You are starting to look a little like a melting lion though," Dick pointed out since the paint was starting to run from sweat. "Do you wanna go get some ice cream, MGM lion?"

Bruce rolled his eyes whilst he was secretly impressed that the kid could think of so many lion references so quickly. "Sure."

At his acceptance, Dick sprang up from the bench and offered out his hand. Bruce naturally took hold of it and they ventured back into the amusement park together. 

Since the darkest clouds in Dick's mind had passed for now, the sunny child was back to talking Bruce's ear off again. It was one of those things that Bruce didn't think he'd miss until he had been without it. Now he didn't want the boy to stop talking, even when got into a heated debate over which ice cream flavour was the best.

However, they eventually made their way over to the trailer park, where there were rows of string lights connecting the trailers in a beautiful web, illuminating the area in a comforting glow.

Fold-out tables and plastic chairs were set out on the long strip of grass between the trailers whilst the grill was alight and the sausages were already sizzling. Chatter and laughter could be heard even from around the corner. But every cirky stopped what they were doing to greet Dick the moment they arrived. However, this time Dick properly introduced them all to his guardian for the day. 

Bruce was slightly taken aback by just how friendly they all were as he received one hearty handshake after another. They also immediately began doting on them, insisting they had something to eat and drink as they asked them a string of questions.

Although they did recognise the Wayne's name, it quickly became obvious that they couldn't care less about Bruce's status. The only thing they seemed to be bothered about was that Dick was being taken good care of. It was his Uncle Sando in particular who seemed the most concerned.

"What's with this?" he asked, flicking Dick's long hair since Dick never usually grew it out so long.

"Oh, I showed Miss Franny a photo of my dad but she doesn't know how to do his haircut, so I'm leaving it until I save up enough to go to the barbers!" Dick answered, having copied his late father's haircut for as long as he could remember.

"Don't be ridiculous! I'll cut it for free right now!" Sando responded, aghast that Dick hadn't instantly asked him to.

"You know how?" Dick lit up at the offer.

"Of course I do! I've cut your dad's hair plenty of times before!" Sando said, which wasn't too surprising since he had been best friends with Dick's dad since they were kids. But as far as Dick knew, it had been his mom who used to cut his dad's hair.

"When you were drunk," Sally added with a smirk, filling in the missing piece of the puzzle. 

"That's an irrelevant detail. C'mon!" Sando ushered Dick to sit down on one of the chairs outside of his family's trailer.

The rest of the circus crew then returned to what they were up to before since they knew they'd have a chance to catch up with Dick later. And some of them still had yet to change out of their tight attire and rub off their glittery makeup.

Sally popped open the door to the trailer, but paused on the steps. "You're welcome inside if you want to freshen up too, Simba."

Dick giggled as Bruce accepted the courteous offer with a small thanks and followed Sally into the trailer, which was certainly cozy inside. 

"The bathroom's back here," Sally said, stepping into the small room at the back of the trailer so she could grab their amateur hairdressing equipment from the cupboard inside.

"Feel free to use whatever you need," she said with a warm smile as she patted his back and headed back outside.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Bruce made his way to the back, but hesitated when he glanced at the fridge. Held up by a wide array of magnets from tourist stops around the country were a few childish drawings and over a dozen photos.

A couple were of the whole circus together, one was from Sally and Sando's wedding, and several were of their kids, which Bruce realised were two of the teenagers he had seen earlier. But the photo that stood out the most to Bruce was the one of the Graysons, held up by a magnet of a robin with a few plucked forget-me-nots behind it.

Dick's parents appeared much younger than Bruce had seen them before as Mary held their toddler on her hip and John had his arm around her waist. It was an undeniably adorable photo of them together as little Robin was dressed to match his parents' costumes for the first time. Yet even as the sunlight made the sequins sparkle, nothing appeared as bright as Robin's smile, which made him look just like his parents.

Bruce turned away from it and hurriedly entered the bathroom to turn on the tap. He didn't even wait for the water to warm up before he splashed it on his face and vigorously rubbed at his eyes. Fortunately, most of the face paint came off after scrubbing for a while. Therefore, he only needed to use a couple of makeup wipes to remove the rest of it.

Once he was back to normal, Bruce released his hair from the hair tie he had borrowed and headed back out into the warm, humid night air.

"Hey, Bruno! Come watch!" Sando beckoned him over as soon as he shut the door. "I'll show you how to do it so you can do it next time."

Dick opened his mouth to say something before Bruce could awkwardly decline, but to his surprise, Bruce spoke first.

"Alright," he said quietly and sat down on another chair beside him. 

Dick's eyes practically sparkled at Bruce's acceptance yet he still tried to not seem too eager, even though he was already unconsciously kicking his feet.

"His name is Bruce, Sando," Dick corrected instead of acknowledging it.

"Eh, Bruno is better." Sando shrugged and combed back the hair he had spent the past five minutes dampening.

Bruce then watched diligently as Sando snipped away, and chunks of hair fell onto the grass and the old cape around Dick's neck. Meanwhile, a few of the guys, including Harry, who was thankfully out of makeup now, joined them to catch up with Dick.

They offered Bruce a beer dripping with condensation from their cooler, but he politely declined since he knew it wouldn't be long until he had to drive back. Hence, one of the ladies offered him a fruity mocktail instead, which he accepted since they were making one for Dick anyway, who was very excited about the tiny umbrella they added to it.

Being around so many welcoming and lively people wasn't something Bruce was used to, yet he could still understand why Dick found the atmosphere so homey. Especially when the circus boy fit in like he had never left whilst he talked to the others who could rival even him in the chatterbox department.

Bruce was grateful that they could still tell he wasn't much of the talkative type and didn't push him to talk beyond the occasional casual question. But it wasn't long until Sando was done and Dick was standing up to shake off any loose hair the same way a wet dog would try to dry itself. 

"What do you think?" Dick cheerfully asked Bruce first. 

"Looks good." Bruce nodded since the haircut was essentially a neater version of what he'd had before, with fluffy layers that were practically made to be ruffled.

"Thanks!" Dick chuckled at Bruce's extensive feedback before he turned to Sando. "Does it look like my dad's?"

"It will once we get some product in it!" Sando replied, opening his trailer door again to go fetch some hair wax for him.

"Do you ever style your hair?" Dick asked, tilting his head in the same direction as Bruce's flopped-over hair.

"Not really," Bruce answered since he usually only did the bare minimum of styling if he had to meet someone who wasn't Alfred or criminals.

"I've been meaning to get it cut actually," he added, sliding his hand through his hair, which had grown long enough to be considered mildly annoying.

Even Alfred had commented that he looked like a damp Afghan hound when he took his cowl off. But Bruce kept saying he'd get round to it later since he always had much more important things to worry about.

However, that was about to change as Dick gasped with excitement. "Can I cut it then? Please, I swear I'll do a good job!"

Bruce didn't really get why Dick wanted to do it, but he also didn't care enough about how he looked to be against the idea since it was probably going to be the only chance he would get for a while.

"If you really want to." He shrugged, making Dick clap happily.

"Yay! How do you want it?" Dick asked, shaking off any hair still on the cape.

"Shorter?" Bruce said, making PhilippePhilippe beside them snort with laughter whilst Dick rolled his eyes. 

"Alright, come with me then," Dick said, picking up the chair he had sat on and grabbing the tools on the table before he walked further down to where the women of the circus were hanging out together.

"Ladies! We're in need of assistance!" he announced as he set the chair down and more or less shoved Bruce down onto it.

The ladies in question were playing poker and drinking cocktails when they rocked up. Some of them had already gotten changed into their loungewear, whereas others were in slightly dressed-down versions of their costumes and using their feather fans to cool themselves down.

"What's the matter, baby?" Rosa, one of the acrobats, asked since it was a given that none of them minded the pair joining.

"What kind of haircut do you think would make this one look the most handsome?" Dick asked, pinching Bruce's cheek like the man, who was over twice his age, was his grandson.

"Oooo," the ladies uttered in unison, their interest immediately piqued.

"Very good question," Mia said.

"Well, it's not this one. I mean, come on with features like that, you can do a lot better, sweetie," Daphne, one of the jugglers, said to which the others nodded in agreement.

"And better we shall! So, come on! Let's hear the suggestions," Dick encouraged as Sando returned and ran a small amount of wax through Dick's freshly cut hair.

"How about something like Kyle's?" Sando suggested, having overheard their conversation.

"No way! Kyle's is too modern," Dolly, the illusionist, responded.

"So what? He's still young, Dolly!" said Felicite, an acrobat who specialised in the aerial hoop.

"Well, I don't know about that," Dick mumbled as he secured the cape around Bruce's neck.

"How old do you think I am exactly?" Bruce felt he had to ask since it wasn't the first time Dick acted like he was a dinosaur compared to him.

Dick actually did know how old Bruce was, but he also felt like being a little shit that day so he replied, "I dunno, forty?"

"Forty?!" Bruce exclaimed in genuine shock.

"Sorry, fifty?" Dick said, his small smirk giving away his ingenuity.

"Oh, you little-" Bruce muttered.

"Hey, it's not my fault!" Dick cut him off with a grin. "You're the one who needs to sleep more, Mister! At the very least, get some cucumbers on your eyes or something!"

"Here you go." Sally jokingly offered over the cucumber slices in her refreshing drink, yet Dick decided to eat them instead. 

"What? I didn't mean now! You've still got to still up straight," Dick said, pulling Bruce's hunched over shoulders back, which made an audible cracking sound. "See, ancient I tell you."

The ladies giggled as Bruce tried to repress his smile, not wanting to give Dick the satisfaction. However, Mia was still focused on the task at hand.

"You do come from old money though, don't you, Mr. Wayne?" she asked as Dick started to wet Bruce's hair with the spray bottle Sando had used.

"I do," Bruce answered matter-of-factly, although he wasn't sure of the relation until Mia added, "I think an old-school style would suit you then, don't you think?"

Daphne suddenly gasped and grabbed Mia's arm as if she had made a groundbreaking suggestion. "Oh! Like Gregory Peck!"

"Oh, that would be beautiful!" Dolly gasped too. "Wouldn't that be beautiful?" she asked Felicite next to her.

"Don't look at me. I already think he's beautiful," Felicite playfully responded and shot a wink Bruce's way.

The compliment garnered a rather charmed smile from Bruce, yet Dick responded first.

"I thought you already had a boyfriend, young lady!" he said with his hand on his hip, making them giggle as they realised that Dick sounded a lot like his mother when she used to scold them too.

"Who? Donnie?" Felicite replied to which Dick nodded. "Oh, he's old news, sweetheart!"

"Why? What happened?" Dick gasped, his demeanour flipping from one of reprimand to being very interested in the gossip very quickly.

"Well, let's just say when we made a stop in Bludhaven, he also made a stop in a blonde's heaven," Felicite answered, making the adults chuckle, but Dick didn't get it and tilted his head in confusion.

"She opened the pearly gates for him," Felicite tried again to explain without being explicit about it, but Dick still looked lost. "He did the birds and the bees with a woman that definitely wasn't me."

"Oh! Oh!" A look of realisation dawned on Dick before he exclaimed, "That fuckin' scoundrel!"

"Language, Robin," Marion, a retired tightrope walker and Haly's wife, chided whilst she flipped patties on the grill beside them.

"Oh, sorry! Un putain de scélérat!" Dick cheekily repeated in french.

Marion rolled her eyes with a smile, but let Dick off the hook and jested, "Merci beaucoup!"

"Here, Dickie. How about this?" Daphne leaned over and showed Dick a photo of the late actor in his prime, which she had found online whilst they had all been chatting.

"Oh, that's it! Don't you think, Bruce?" Dick asked to which Bruce shrugged.

"It's alright." He wasn't particularly bothered about the style, as long as it was shorter then he supposed it classified as a successful haircut.

"That's probably the best approval we're going to get, so take it as a win, ladies!" Dick cheered and the ladies gave themselves a round of applause for their efforts.

"Do you know how to cut it like that?" Bruce then asked the important question.

"Sure I do! How hard could it be?" Dick said, combing through Bruce's wet hair before the latter heard a loud snip by his ear.

"Perhaps we should check YouTube? You know, just in case!" With those wonderful words of reassurance, they pulled up a tutorial and the following twenty minutes were spent then snipping away.

Yet silence never greeted them even once as Bruce stayed surprisingly calm, even though he heard a lot of "Whoops!" "Are you sure that's right?" "Uh-oh..." "That's fixable!" and the most common phrase, "Keep your head still!" as he came to understand how Hello Kitty felt in the claw machine when his head was being moved around so roughly.

Even the fellas ended up joining them and giving their two cents on how it should be done until a mirror was finally held up for Bruce.

"Ta-da!" Dick exclaimed as he dramatically ripped off the cape. "What do you think?"

Bruce turned his head side to side, examining the haircut, which he was shocked to admit actually looked pretty decent and even made him feel a little lighter.

"It's good."

The circus folk all cheered at the succinct response and claimed it was cause for celebration. Hence, another round of drinks was poured, and the speakers were brought out to start blasting music.

Dick giggled at the over-the-top celebration yet made no complaints since everyone seemed to be in high spirits. 

However, Bruce's eardrums were taken aback by the loud noise and he leaned over to Dick to ask, "How long do you want to stay for?" 

"Just a little while longer, I still need to talk to Haly," Dick replied and started to fiddle with hands as he looked over to Haly's trailer.

By then, everyone in the circus was outside partying except for the owner himself. Although he was the oldest amongst them, Marion was only a year younger than Haly, and she was still wide awake. Hence, Dick was starting to suspect that he was staying inside for his sake. 

Bruce noticed Dick's nervousness and held up his hands. "You got this." 

Dick looked back at Bruce and grinned as he gave him a double high-five. "I got this!" 

Dick psyched himself up as he slowly walked over to the trailer and up the steps to knock on the door. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly as he waited for it to open, and glanced over at Bruce who gave him a reassuring smile.

And then there was a click, and suddenly there he was. The man who had been there during his first steps. The elder who had provided a home for his family for generations. The grandpa who Dick had missed just as much as the rest of his family. 

"Robin? What's the matter?" Haly asked, clearly shocked to see him, yet more concerned as to why the boy looked so nervous. 

Dick's bottom lip trembled before he couldn't take it anymore and surged forward to hug Haly around his belly.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean what I said," Dick said, knowing the other would unfortunately know exactly what he was referring to.

Although he was taken aback, Haly didn't hesitate to hug Robin back with an expression of pure relief. "I know, Dickie. It's okay."

Haly wasn't the only one who was relieved beyond words as the others watched on and tried not to make a big fuss about it. Even though they really wanted to jump up and down for joy that the two of them had finally made up.

But after the long, much-awaited hug, Dick stepped back and asked, "Do you have time for a game of go fish?"

It was a card game they had started playing regularly years ago when Haly had complained once about not being able to go fishing during the busy season. Dick had then suggested the game as a substitute since it had the word fish in it and that made it close enough in his eyes.

Haly laughed the same as he did back then at the suggestion and replied, "I'll always have time for you, Robin."

Dick smiled brightly as the tension left his shoulders and the others could no longer hold back from cheering, making Dick giggle as Haly stepped down to join them. 

Dick then glanced at Bruce again who gave the boy a thumbs up with a proud smile. Little did he know, 'a little while longer' turned into two more hours.

Yet Bruce could hardly complain as the ridiculously fun time was filled with overly competitive games, slightly drunken dancing, over-the-top singing, heaps of laughter and plenty of chatting.

To Bruce's surprise, the departed Graysons weren't a taboo topic like he had expected them to be. For a young Bruce, bringing up his parents was practically inviting oneself to walk on eggshells as he would often retreat in on himself whenever they were mentioned. Yet Dick was the opposite. 

He would smile whenever they were casually mentioned and happily add his own memories into the conversation. Bruce learned a little more about them that way. 

The first little factoid he learned was that they had been a couple of the best singers in the group. Dick even had a CD they had made for him when he was a baby, full of lullabies for when he cried and boppier songs to make him giggle; a sound which they loved to brag was the best thing in the universe.

Bruce felt his heart ache when Dick mentioned that he still listened to it now. Yet Dick didn't even get teary eyes, at least not until later...

When Francesca called they realised that they should really head back since it had gotten very late by then. Hence, they bid their goodbyes to the circus who promised to visit Gotham more often just so they could see their Dickie.

Eventually, they let him go after a ridiculously long group hug, and Sally and Sando walked the two of them back to the ferry station.

"Are you sure you're doing okay, Dickie?" Sally crouched down to ask him now that there weren't so many people around. "You know our offer still stands."

"I know, but you don't need to worry, I'm fine!" Dick replied with a very convincing smile. "Everyone at the orphanage is super nice!" 

"If you insist." Sally pinched his cheek and stood back up. "But don't forget..."

"If you ever need us, we'll come flying," Sally and Sando said in unison.

Robin suddenly felt his breath quicken as tears slowly started to build in his eyes, since that was something his parents always used to say to him.

He knew that they were saying it now to simply reassure him that he still had someone who would drop everything to come help him if he needed it. Yet Dick couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of sadness grip him at the reminder that the people he wanted to be there the most would never be there again when he called for help.

"I know, alright! But we've gotta get going!" Dick plastered a grin on his face and strained his voice to keep it stable.

"Goodnight! I'll see you again soon!" Dick waved back as he took off running onto the ferry.

"Goodnight, Robin!" They waved back and wished Bruce a good night as well before they headed back to the trailer park.

Whereas Bruce followed Dick onto the ferry where they sat outside on the same bench as they had before. Although Dick had rushed ahead of him, Bruce still caught him hurriedly rubbing at his cheeks with his head turned away.

It was only the second time Bruce had seen the boy stop himself just as he was about to cry. Yet it was something Bruce didn't want to see again. Not when he knew too well how it felt to keep all that pressure in.

Still, Bruce wondered if he had any right to pry as they sat together in silence. Then Dick hugged his teddy bear closer in comfort and Bruce hated the thought of the kid going back to the orphanage, where no one could tell that something was bothering him.

"Do you mind if I ask what offer they were talking about?" Bruce tentatively asked.

"Oh, I don't know if you know, but the city doesn't allow circus performers to adopt, that's why they once offered to quit the circus to take me in. But I begged them not to, so nothing ever came of it," Dick answered as he sniffled.

"Why?" Bruce asked. As far as he could tell, they would be the best option for Dick yet the latter disagreed.

"Because it would already be bad enough to become a burden to them, but if they ended up giving up their dream because of me to work some soul-sucking job that they'd hate, then I wouldn't be able to bear it! It wouldn't be fair to their kids to flip their whole worlds upside down just for me either."

Robin understood too well how it felt to have the rug pulled out from underneath him and have his whole world come crashing down to the point where it felt like he was endlessly falling. He still couldn't quite place when he had begun to accept that his life at the circus was a thing of the past. But he knew the last thing he wanted was for anyone else to reckon with that grief too.

"You wouldn't be a burden, Robin," Bruce said in a soft tone of voice. But he could tell just from the look on the boy's face that the other didn't believe it. "You wouldn't, I mean it."

"What makes you so sure?" Dick asked as he fiddled with his teddy bear again. 

"You're handling everything a lot better than I did, for starters," Bruce responded as he could still recall the early years of his grief. 

Once upon a time, he too had been a smiley, sociable child who looked at the world through the rosiest-tinted glasses. Then those glasses shattered with a gunshot that he could still hear ringing in his ears during the dead of night.

Bruce became almost unrecognisable from who he used to be and stopped talking to all of his friends until the only person he had left was Alfred. Even then, he shut Alfred out too, partially out of fear of losing another person he loved, and another part of him scared that Alfred wouldn't like him anymore. After all, he was well aware of just how moody and irritable he had been. Yet he had no idea how to feel better or 'fix' himself. 

The fact that Dick still went around smiling so much already astonished Bruce beyond words, which is why it came as a shock to him when Dick asked, "What makes you think that?"

"Do you think you're not?"

"I... I know my parents would just want me to be happy, no matter what, that's why I really try to be. I really don't want to let them down, but I... I don't know if I can do it all the time." Dick's eyes began to tear up again, and Bruce hoped the boy would let the tears flow this time instead of trying to bottle them up again.

"You could never let them down, Robin," Bruce said with conviction. "Of course they would want you to be happy, but you're just a kid and you're going through something unbearable. They would understand that happiness isn't a switch you can just turn off and on."

Although Dick listened to Bruce, he still tried to stop his tears by looking sharply upwards. 

"When you cried when they were here, how did they react then? Did they just tell you to stop?" Bruce asked, knowing his clearly compassionate parents wouldn't do such a thing.

"No... They would hug me until I calmed down," Dick answered with his voice shaking and a stray tear escaping.

"What makes you think that they wouldn't do the same if they were still here?"

"But they're not here, that's the point," Dick said, getting choked up as more tears glided down his cheeks.

"If I really start to cry, then I don't know if I can stop without them," Dick said, even though he was already crying by that point.

No matter how many times he rubbed away his tears, they wouldn't stop flowing, making the boy sob in distress. 

"Oh, Robin, it's okay." Bruce couldn't take it anymore and hugged Robin close. "You'll be okay."

Bruce soothingly stroked Robin's hair and rubbed his back in comfort as the child sobbed against his chest and tears stained his tie. "I'm here. I know I can never be them, but I'm still here."

Dick hugged Bruce back as he fully broke down and let go of everything he had been bottling up over the past year he had spent alone.

The agony he felt the first morning he woke up in the orphanage as he had to accept that it wasn't a nightmare he could wake up from. The deep loneliness he felt at every milestone, on his first day of middle school, his first Christmas in Gotham, even losing his last baby tooth. More than anything, he just wanted his parents back to be there for it all.

But they weren't coming back. His soul didn't know how to heal from that, but his body did its best to try to purge that sadness out of him. So, he cried and he cried and he had no idea how much time had passed until he finally calmed down.

"There you go, you did it," Bruce said proudly as Dick pulled away from him slightly. "Feel a little bit better?" 

Even though he had a headache, his eyes were red, his cheeks were sticky and his nose was blocked, Dick still nodded and sniffled. It did feel better to get it out of his system, especially when he was held by someone who understood how he felt without him having to explain. 

"Here." Bruce pulled the handkerchief from his suit's pocket and handed it to Dick who used it to blow his nose. 

"Thanks," Dick croaked. "Sorry, I-" He pointed to the patch of snot on Bruce's loose tie.

"It's alright," Bruce replied, taking the ruined tie off and setting it aside. "Alfred has cleaned a lot worse out of my clothes before."

"He does your laundry too?" Dick asked since he didn't know what a butler actually did beyond pouring tea when requested to.

"It makes him happy." Bruce shrugged. Although he had initially been the one to clean his batsuit, Alfred kept complaining that he sucked at it and snatched it away to do it for him like he was a true princess.

"Is he the one that took care of you then after..." 

Bruce nodded in reply, unsurprised that Robin could connect the dots.

"I'm glad you got someone nice then," Dick said quietly as he put his arms around his teddy bear again. "I looked into it, you know. Apparently, most orphans in Gotham age out of the system. I honestly don't know if that's a good or bad thing when it comes to me."

"You don't want to be adopted?" Bruce asked with furrowed brows. 

"I do, it's just... It has to be the right person," Dick answered, and Bruce could understand that much. 

A part of him also realised how he had taken it for granted to have been adopted the day after he became an orphan. Not even by a stranger or distant relative either, but by someone who had already been looking after him since he was a baby. But Dick didn't have that option.

"They would have to understand that I need another parent, not someone trying to replace the ones I already have," Dick elaborated.

"Like, say completely hypothetically, if a single person was to adopt me then I wouldn't say I had two parents, and now I have one, I'd say now I have three!" Dick said proudly before he deflated slightly.

"I know some people would say that they don't count anymore because they're not around anymore, but that's ridiculous! It's not like they packed up and left me, they died!" 

By how riled up Robin was, Bruce knew that someone must have actually said that to him and felt himself grow angry on Dick's behalf. But the fire in Robin's eyes fizzled out and was replaced by melancholy after he said his reality out loud. Yet he continued on.

"But that doesn't mean they never existed. Mary and John Grayson will always be my parents, no matter what. Just because they can't hug me anymore doesn't mean they never did. All that love that gave me, it's still here," he said with his hand on his heart.

"I hold it all inside me. I am still who I am because of them, everything they taught me, it's all still up here." Dick knocked on his head.

"Every time I don't know what to do, I always think, what would they say? It's just the older I get, the more questions I have. But they're not here to answer them anymore, and sometimes I don't know how to keep guessing... Sometimes I get really tired of feeling so alone."

Dick's eyes welled with tears again as he looked off into the distance, at the moonlight reflecting on the sea. Bruce didn't think Dick was even talking to him anymore. He was simply letting himself say everything that he had been feeling, as if a dam inside of him had broken.

"I still can't even wrap my head around the fact that I can't talk to them anymore... Like, I just started middle school, and I remember the first time I got stuck on my math homework. I called for my mom to help me like she always used to, but this time she didn't come flying.

"And I told myself it's okay! I can just figure it out by myself! But I couldn't do it, no matter how hard I tried. So I tore it up and skipped school so I didn't have to hand it in. I still got detention for it when I got back though."

Dick faintly laughed.

"It wasn't all bad though, a girl in my class was also there and she taught me how to make a paper crane, so that was nice... I could teach you too sometime, if you want?" Dick turned to look at Bruce for the first time in a while.

"That'd be nice." Bruce smiled softly at him.

Dick smiled back since he liked Bruce's smile, but then he shook his head.

"Anyway, I thought I could just move past it and put it to the back of my mind. But then I joined the volleyball team because I thought it'd be fun, you know! I even bought a volleyball and everything! But then I thought about asking my dad to practice and-"

Dick became choked up again and covered his eyes as he cried. 

"Oh, Robin. I know." It pained Bruce to see Dick cry, but he didn't hesitate to hug the boy again. "I know how that emptiness feels..."

He had once thought that saying his goodbyes at their funeral would be the worst of it. But it was often their absence during the little things that made Bruce feel like there was a chasm in his heart.

"Does it ever go away?" Dick asked in a small voice.

Bruce wished he could tell Dick that he had healed from it, but he knew that would be a lie. Yet he also couldn't say that nothing had changed in the past twenty years.

"It gets better," Bruce answered honestly, although it felt strange to admit it. "Especially when someone's there... And you're not alone, Robin."

Dick pulled away and looked up at Bruce with glassy, tired, yet hopeful eyes.

It wasn't like Bruce couldn't take a hint. He knew Dick was thinking about the possibility of him adopting the orphan. But Bruce felt he could neither outright reject nor accept the idea.

It wasn't that he didn't want to adopt the boy. He knew wholeheartedly that no one could be luckier to have Dick in their lives. But more than anything, Bruce wanted to do whatever was best for the child, and he couldn't confidently say that was him. 

He wanted it to be. He wanted to be better, to become someone who could even be close to the kind of parent Dick deserved. But it wasn't like he could unlearn nearly a lifetime of bad habits overnight. He needed time. But Dick needed someone now. 

'Maybe if Alfred helped me?' Bruce thought, but he couldn't help but feel like he was being selfish.

Being a parent wasn't something he could back out of or retire from either. If he vowed to look after Dick then there was no way he could ever break that promise. Therefore, at the very least, he needed more time to think about making such a life-changing decision. Hence, Bruce didn't directly address it and diverted Dick's attention instead.

"Shortcake is still here," he said, holding the teddy bear up and using its fluffy arms to dry Robin's tears, making the boy laugh through his crying.

"Thanks, Shortcake." Dick patted the teddy's bouncy head, which he had named Shortcake since it faintly smelt of strawberries.

Bruce understood then how Alfred must have felt all those years ago. How desperately he wanted the child to feel better, but he knew there was nothing he could do to heal such a wound. Only time could do that.

But, just as Dick began to calm down, Bruce thought of an idea.

"You know, math was my best subject when I was in school," he said as he thought about possibly asking Francesca at their next meeting if he could tutor the boy.

"It was?" Dick sniffled.

"Mhm, and Dory is really good at volleyball."

Dick let out another teary laugh. "Hey, you made a joke."

"I learned from the best," Bruce praised and patted Robin's head as he was happy to see the latter smiling again. "I'm serious though."

"Dory can really slam dunk it?" Dick asked with furrowed brows.

"No-" Bruce cut himself off with a laugh. "Well, maybe, I've never asked her. But I meant about the other thing. If you're falling behind in school then I could tutor you, if you'd like me to?"

"Really? You'd do that?" Dick asked with wide eyes.

Bruce nodded. "If it would help."

"My schoolwork doesn't have anything to do with vengeance though?" Dick said with his voice sounding slightly nasally as he sniffled. 

"I know... I just want you to be okay," Bruce said with such sincerity that Dick was slightly taken aback.

"Oh... That's nice of you," Dick said since he didn't know what else to say to that, making Bruce smile.

"Ugh! This is so gross! Why won't it stop already?" Dick then complained as he wiped away his seemingly never-ending snot with his sleeve and started to hiccup. 

"It's okay, I've got some tissues in the car. Come on," Bruce said, standing up as the ferry docked.

Dick followed along, using the already ruined tie as a temporary blocker until they reached the car.

Dick felt a little better after he was able to clear his sinuses, and Bruce let him have his bottle of water. But he still found himself hit with a wave of exhaustion. Hence, it was a quiet ride back to the orphanage as Dick struggled to keep his eyes open, even as he stared out the window, watching the street lamps pass by with their fuzzy amber glow. Yet he still found himself thinking about what Bruce had said.

"Would you really wanna tutor me?" Dick asked with his voice only slightly louder than the quiet song playing on the radio.

"Mhm, if you want me to," Bruce answered simply as he mostly focused on the road.

For a moment, only the rhythmic ticking of the indicator could be heard until Dick drawled, "You're a real sweetie pie, Bruce. You know that?"

Bruce glanced at Robin as he turned right and saw that the boy was clearly half asleep as he rested his head against the car door.

"You think so?" Bruce said with an amused smirk.

"Mhm, Mr. Doctor, Mrs. Philanthropist and the nice Butler raised a good son, so well done to them-" Dick cut himself off with a big yawn and a mere moment later, he was out like a light.

Although the phrasing was silly, the sentiment was so kind that Bruce felt a warm feeling in his chest, like he had just sipped on a hot cup of tea. Although he wanted to thank the boy, he didn't want to disturb his rest so he let Dick sleep for the rest of the ride.

Dick only stirred from his slumber once the rumbling engine was switched off and he heard the click of a car door being opened and closed. Still, he didn't want to have to get up and walk, so Dick kept his eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep.

Luckily for him, Bruce didn't try to wake him up, instead he unfastened the seatbelt and scooped Robin up into his arms to carry the little one inside. After all, Bruce could still remember when his dad used to do the same thing for him after the events they took him to dragged on well into the night.

Except Bruce actually had been asleep so when he woke up in his bed the first time it happened, and didn't know how he had got there, he thought he had dreamt the entire day before. Thomas and Alfred had thought it would be funny to go along with it until they were caught and scolded by Martha since Bruce had missed a day of school because of it.

They still thought it was funny anyway, but Thomas did confess to carrying him in. Even though it was only a small act of care, it still made Bruce happy every time he did it.

Francesca was surprised to see Bruce carrying Robin when she opened the door. But she didn't say anything in order to not wake the boy up as she led Bruce to his room. They passed by the common room again on the way, where the teenagers of the orphanage were still awake and watching a movie together.

A part of Bruce couldn't help but wonder how long they'd been at the orphanage, or if they would age out of it. He wanted to help all of the orphans then and there, but there was only so much he could do, like putting one of them to bed.

He tried to be as quiet as he could when he entered the shared bedroom in order to not wake the other little ones who were fast asleep. Thankfully, the floorboards didn't creak too much as he made it to the back of the room and gently set Robin down on his bed. 

Bruce then made sure he was warm under the covers and tucked his teddy bear in too beside him. For a moment, Bruce worried he had accidentally woken him when Dick shifted onto his side and hugged the cuddly thing close. 

But his eyes stayed closed and his breath remained steady so Bruce breathed a silent sigh of relief. A part of Bruce understood then why his mother used to stay for a moment and gently stroke his hair after she had read him a bedtime story.

There was something inexplicably cathartic about seeing the child look so peaceful. Bruce hadn't expected to feel such a strong urge to protect that peace, but there he was, wishing that Gotham was a safer place so that nothing could ever hurt the boy again.

Batman hoped he could at least be good for that much, and headed back home to get ready for another night out.

When the elevator doors pinged open, Bruce found Alfred, still awake and sorting through papers even though it was one in the morning by then.

"You took a while," Alfred said before he glanced at Bruce over his reading glasses. "And you got a haircut?"

"Dick did it," Bruce replied, tossing his car keys into the dish by the elevator. "We visited his family at the circus."

"I see... Well, you know you can still ask me to cut it, I don't mind," Alfred said casually as he stapled a few papers together.

"I know..." Bruce said, approaching Alfred who stood up to go fetch some more tea from the kitchen. 

However, he was quickly stopped in his tracks by Bruce abruptly hugging him.

"Thank you," Bruce said in a tone of voice far too sincere for him to be conveying such deep gratitude over the offer of a simple haircut.

Alfred was extremely confused as to what had brought it on since Bruce never hugged him, but he of course hugged him back anyway.

"You okay?" he asked, patting Bruce's back.

"I'm okay," Bruce said more earnestly than he had in a long time.

For years, he had refused to admit that Alfred was a father to him; he had even harshly said as much to the man too. It had always felt like he would be betraying his other father if he was to acknowledge it, as if he was saying that Alfred had replaced him.

But after talking to Dick that night, he felt as though he could finally accept that he had two fathers. He didn't have to choose between them after all. Not when he loved them both dearly and they both played an undeniable role in raising him.

Yet heart-to-hearts weren't exactly either his or Alfred's strong suits. He wasn't like Dick, who could wear his heart on his sleeve, so Bruce could only hope Alfred would understand without him having to actually say it.

Fortunately, Alfred had developed a special skill of reading between the lines when it came to his closed-off son. Hence, he had some inkling of what Bruce was actually thanking him for. Although he still wasn't quite sure why, he appreciated it nonetheless.

But Bruce was the first to pull back and clear his throat. "I'm going out. Do you want me to get you anything on the way back?"

"Sugar, actually. I used the last of it making a crème brûlée today," Alfred replied as he turned around to head to the kitchen.

"La-di-da," Bruce said, making Alfred roll his eyes with a smirk. "Wait, I thought the blow torch broke? You didn't use my flamethrower, did you?"

Alfred purposefully ignored Bruce as he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

"Alfred!" Bruce called after him to no reply, leaving Bruce to click his tongue and head down to the Batcave.

Sure enough, Batman's flamethrower had been borrowed and Bruce made a mental note to hide some of his gadgets for the next time Dick visited.

After all, it had only taken one look at his batarangs for the boy to grab one for himself. He didn't even want to know what the boy would do if he got his hands on his flamethrower. Yet he still planned on inviting Dick over to the tower anyway since they still had much to discuss.

Chapter Text

Over the past month, Batman and Robin had settled into a new routine. Bruce would spend his day dealing with the spendings of Wayne Enterprises until Dick arrived after he finished school. They always spent the first hour going through Dick's schoolwork as Bruce helped him with anything he was struggling with, before they spent the next hour on the Zucco case. 

After Batman had spent the night gathering all the intel he could, they would go through it together with Alfred chiming in every now and then when he brought them tea and snacks. It quickly became obvious that most of what Dick knew about detective work was from the TV shows he had binge watched. Hence, the Batcave ended up looking like the most cliché scene out of a crime drama with pinboards decorated with photos and a web of yarn to boot. 

Bruce didn't have the heart to tell the boy that it was unnecessary, especially since Dick turned out to be surprisingly helpful. Initially, he had only allowed Dick to look at his investigative work since he knew the boy wanted to feel useful. But he soon realised that having another set of eyes on the city had its perks.  

"I've seen this guy before!" Dick had declared when saw a printout of one of the suspects. As it turned out, the countless nights he spent looking for Batman came in quite handy. "He's always talking to this really pretty lady outside that club." 

"What does she look like?" Bruce asked while Dick connected the photo of the suspect to one of the hotspots with a piece of yarn. 

"Gimme some crayons and I'll show you," Dick said, casually giving Bruce a new lead in the case. 

However, there were also times when Dick would derail the investigation, such as the great pizza debacle. When Dick had referred to his favourite pizza place as 'the best place in the city to get pizza', Bruce had thought he meant another pizza place. Hence, they ended up arguing about what makes a good pizza for nearly an hour until they agreed the only way to settle the debate was to go out and try them all. 

Even though, Dick ended up winning, Bruce had to admit it was nice. Even when it started to rain, Bruce held the umbrella as they walked around the city dotted with puddles reflecting the neon lights, and countless cars and people passing by. Dick was infectiously delighted by every greasy cheese pull before he started rambling on about whatever was on his mind like usual. That night it just so happened to be lore behind Scooby Doo, which Bruce listened to intently. 

However, most nights ended with having dinner with Alfred at the penthouse before Bruce drove Dick back to the orphanage. Except on Friday nights, which they had agreed were movie nights. The first movie they watched together was Clue, the classic murder mystery, which Alfred had suggested. 

They both tried to guess who had done it throughout the film, with Dick guessing it was the maid, and Bruce guessing the butler, much to Alfred's offence. When the truth was revealed at the end of the film, Bruce acted like he had known the entire time, making Dick and Alfred both throw a pillow at his face. 

But when the credits rolled, the song, 'Shake, Rattle and Roll' began blasting, prompting Dick to get up and dance. Bruce had smiled until Dick dragged him to his feet and tried to make him join in. But his refusal didn't last long when Dick took hold of his hands and made him dance anyway. Bruce then made a noise that no one even knew he was capable of; Batman giggled. 

He genuinely and heartily giggled as Dick managed to make him act carefree for just a few minutes and do a silly little dance with him. Even Alfred ended up getting dragged into it too as Dick taught him how to do a few tricks with his cane since he had learned plenty from the ringmaster at the circus. 

But the next week it was Dick's turn to decide, and he chose a Dracula movie since Bruce still hadn't beaten the vampire accusations.  

"I will admit I do like the whole gothic thing you've got going on though," Dick commented as he draped himself across one of the sofas with a blanket over him. "I haven't seen any of the newer buildings with this style." 

"It was already a less popular style when they designed it, but parents always preferred the traditional Gotham look over the modern style," Bruce replied, lounging on the other sofa whilst Alfred was busy getting the movie up on the TV. 

"Oh yeah, they were both from those super old Gotham families, weren't they?" Dick said absentmindedly as he stared up at the chandelier he so wished to swing from if only Alfred would let him. "That's a heck of a match-up, now that I think about it! Were they arranged?" 

"No, there used to be a rivalry between the families actually," Bruce replied, since there had always been some tension between the Waynes and Arkhams even after the marriage that connected the two families.  

Dick gasped at that and turned his attention back to Bruce. "Like Gnomeo and Juliet," he whispered. "How did they meet then? Was it at a ball?" 

"Not a ball, but a gala, so close," Bruce replied with an amused smirk. 

"So, what happened at the gala then?" Dick asked, wanting far more details than that. "Did they dance well into the night and get engaged when the clock struck midnight?" 

"It didn't happen that quickly, I know that much." Bruce chuckled before he turned slightly sombre. "But I never really got to ask them about it." It wasn't like he knew he was going to run out of time so quickly. 

"Hmm, do you know then?" Dick asked Alfred, just as the latter was about to press play. 

"Me?" Alfred pointed to himself to which Dick nodded. 

"I know Dory is too youthful to have been there, but I thought maybe you were?" 

Bruce let out a snort of laughter as he wasn't the only one being called ancient for once. But for Alfred it actually was true. 

"You're right actually, I was there," the butler admitted with a smirk. 

"You were?" Bruce responded with furrowed brows, having never asked the other before. 

"Well, I was sort of there. I used to be his mother's bodyguard, you see." 

Dick gasped as his eyes twinkled. "You can kick ass too?" 

"Oh yeah, even better than he can," Alfred said, nodding over to Bruce who didn't dispute the claim. "That's why I was hired to keep an eye on Martha since she was often reckless in her youth, even though being an Arkham put a major target on her head."  

"Really? Why?" Dick asked, knowing little about the lives of the 'fancy people' as he liked to call them. 

"Well, there were a few kidnapping attempts with the intention of holding her for ransom, but that was the worst of it. Most of the time, it was dealing with reporters trying to dig something up on her. But no matter what she was told, Martha would always go out partying anyway. Then, one night she ended up staying out well past dawn..." 

Alfred had been the one who had to wake Martha up when she had to start getting ready for the gala that evening. However, she still ended up being late and tried to sneak in through the back to avoid a lecture from her aunt by pretending she had been there the whole time. A foolproof plan really, if the only open window hadn't been so high up that is.

Alfred had given her a boost up to it so she could climb in, but she ended up getting stuck halfway through. As luck would have it, Thomas had passed by at that moment and saw her struggling. Like a true gentleman, he offered to help pull her through the window. 

"She ended up falling right on top of him though. Want to take a guess at what he said in response?" Alfred asked his attentive listeners. 

"He didn't..." Bruce said with a sense of dread. 

"Oh, he did." Alfred smirked. 

"Falling for me already, are you?" Dick guessed with a dazzling grin. 

"Bingo." 

"Ahaha!" Dick clutched his stomach as he laughed at the unbelievably cliché and cheesy line, and at Bruce groaning in disgust. 

Although he'd always known how smitten his father had been with his mother, he had at least hoped his dad's cringeworthy corniness was a middle-aged habit. "That really worked on mom?" 

"Of course not, she told him he'd have to try a lot harder than that," Alfred said as he continued on with the story. 

After all, it still hadn't been smooth sailing once they got to their feet, since Martha realised her dress had gotten snagged on her way in. Hence, there was a giant tear down the side of it.

Thomas hadn't hesitated to let her borrow his blazer to cover it up, but Martha didn't like the style of tying it around her waist. So, she came up with another idea instead and told Thomas to turn around. She then called out to Alfred and asked him to toss his trousers up through the window. When Thomas was eventually allowed to turn back around, he discovered that Martha had changed out of her dress and into Alfred's trousers, secured by his belt since they were too big on her, and wearing his blazer, with nothing else underneath.  

It was obvious that her outfit was going to be subject to many side glances at the hoity-toity event. Yet Martha clearly didn't care, judging by the smug look on her face. And that was how Thomas ended up offering to be her bodyguard for the night since Alfred had to run back to the car pantless. 

The press had had a field day with their scandalous behaviour. Yet it was well worth it to them since they became inseparable from that night on, much to the disapproval of both of their families.  

"A doctor and a philanthropist make a good pair though! Why did they have such a problem with it?" Dick asked with a pout. 

"It wasn't necessarily personal; it was more so old grudges being passed down like traditions." Alfred shrugged. "But for the record, Martha hadn't planned to be a philanthropist before they met, she was still an architecture student at the time." 

"Why did she change her mind then?" Dick asked, intrigued to know more about Bruce's parents. 

But Alfred was hesitant to answer as he looked towards Bruce. "Do you want to know?" 

Bruce's brows raised slightly as he was surprised by the apprehension. It was true he didn't know why his mother had changed career paths. It was one of many questions he regretted not asking her whilst he still could. So, he nodded even though he grew nervous about the answer.  

Alfred's expression then turned serious as he began. "When she was a little girl, after what had happened with her parents, she said her dream was to one day design a castle on an island, in the middle of nowhere, where she could hide away from everything and everyone. But she had another episode soon after she graduated and was admitted into Gotham's asylum, again.

"Truthfully, I don't know a lot about what happened with her parents; she never liked to talk about it. But I do know she blamed herself for it, no matter how many times anyone else tried to convince her otherwise..." 

Martha had been dating Thomas for a few months by the time she was back in the asylum, and Alfred assumed the protocol would proceed as usual. After all, her secrets were one of the things Alfred had sworn to protect.  When her friends and boyfriends asked him why she wasn't responding to any of their calls, he would tell them that she went away on a spontaneous vacation and wouldn't be back for a while.

Most of them would believe him since her odd behaviour leading up to the disappearance made them agree that she could do with a break. But it was very rare for any of them to wait for her to return. Hence, many of Martha's friendships fizzled out, and none of her relationships lasted long, except for one that is. 

Thomas hadn't believed the lie, even after Alfred had shown proof that it was a recurring habit of hers. He still demanded to know where she was and threatened to file a missing person's report if Alfred didn't tell him. Not wanting the situation to get out of hand, and also having some hope that Thomas could help his friend, Alfred made Thomas sign a non-disclosure agreement before he revealed the truth. 

A part of him worried that Thomas would run straight for the hills once he told him, but he didn't. Thomas ran straight to Martha, through the long, winding corridors of the asylum and into her room.  

Martha had been sitting on her cold, hard bed, hugging her knees close, with tear-stained cheeks and no light in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Martha didn't even have the energy to worry about what her love would think of her, and Thomas didn't know the right thing to say. 

Then the moment passed, and Thomas asked, "Can I hold you?" 

Martha faintly nodded, and Thomas didn't hesitate to hold her close and cuddle with her for hours. They only got around to talking the next day after he had spent the night there. 

"He knew it would be pointless to tell her again not to blame herself. So, instead he told her if she couldn't forgive the woman in the mirror, then she should try to walk the path of redemption, maybe that way she would one day. Then, when Martha got out, she finally stopped trying to run from Gotham and tried to heal it instead. Both as an act of compassion and atonement, I suppose..." 

Silence settled in the room as the TV asked them if they were still there, and Bruce didn't quite know what to say. 

"Did she ever forgive herself?" Dick quietly asked as his heart ached for Martha. 

"She did when she had Bruce," Alfred answered softly as he thought back to how much Martha had adored Bruce from the moment he was born. For the first few weeks, she had even blatantly refused to hand him over to anyone and spent most of her day holding her baby and gushing over how precious he was. 

"Me?" Bruce said, shocked. "But she never told me any of this." 

Her past wasn't something they ever properly discussed, but it wasn't like there weren't signs when he was growing up either. He had once found her medication in the bathroom cabinet. But when he had asked her about it, Martha panicked and said it was nothing before changing the subject. Hence, Bruce tried asking his dad, who had vaguely explained what the medicine did, yet still told Bruce not to worry about it. 

Another time, he overheard a relative call his mommy, 'Mad Martha', during a family gathering. Bruce had kicked his cousin in the balls for saying it and then got in trouble for doing so. (Alfred said he was proud of him though.) He had assumed it was because he had somehow found out about the medication she was taking. But another part of him always suspected that they all knew something he didn't. 

"Because you were only a boy. She wanted to wait until you were old enough to understand," Alfred explained. 

"Then how did I change her mind?" Bruce asked, still not getting it until Alfred's gaze softened. 

"Just by being her baby." He shrugged with a bittersweet smile. "She came to see her parents differently when she became one herself. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would never wish that kind of pain upon you." 

Alfred had told him multiple times over the years that his parents would never blame him for what happened, but Bruce knowing they wouldn't was very different from understanding it himself. But he knew he was starting to when he glanced over at Robin.  

Dick wasn't quite sure why Bruce was looking at him, but offered a reassuring smile nonetheless. He also tried to break some of the lingering tension in the room. 

"So, do you still have any photos of said baby?"  

"Of course we do." Alfred chuckled and stood back up. 

"Wait, Alfred-" Bruce's complaints were completely ignored, and the photo album was brought out. 

Dick laughed at the pudgy little guy Bruce used to be whilst Alfred revelled in Bruce's overdramatic misery as they cooed over every photo. Eventually, he convinced them to finally get back to the movie they had meant to start watching over half an hour ago. Hence, Dick wrapped himself back up in his blanket cocoon as Alfred promised to get the high school yearbook out next time, which Bruce made a mental note to burn later.  

They were about halfway through the movie when Bruce had to excuse himself to take a phone call from Lucius, which ended up lasting a lot longer than he expected. When he returned to the living room, Robin was already sleeping soundly, curled up in his blanket like a snail curled up in its shell.  

Bruce walked over and ruffled the boy's soft hair with a small smile. "C'mon, I'll take you back." 

Dick's eyes fluttered open as he let out a big yawn and groggily got to his feet. But he kept the butter-yellow blanket wrapped around his shoulders since Bruce's place was always too chilly.  

"Okay," Dick mumbled as he pottered towards the main entrance like an old granny. 

"This way." Bruce course corrected him towards the study.  

Dick pouted in confusion but followed along to join Bruce in the elevator heading down to the Batcave. "Why are we going this way?" 

"Because I've got a surprise for you." 

Dick's brows furrowed as he looked up at Bruce's suspicious smile. "Okaaay... What is it?" 

"You'll see." Bruce opened the elevator gate as he did a poor job of hiding his excitement for Dick's reaction. 

Still, they headed further into the Batcave, with a few hellos from the bats above, to where Batman usually kept his motorcycle. However, this time it seemed to be covered by a giant black tarp. 

"Last week, my motorcycle-" 

"The Batcycle," Robin corrected. 

"The Batcycle, it was stolen-" 

"What? How? By who?" Dick cut Bruce off as he suddenly seemed much more awake. 

"Just some kid." Bruce shrugged, having gotten over it already. "There'd not be much point in trying to hunt it down in this city." 

It had been his own fault anyway. After Batman had heard screams, he'd wasted no time in trying to get to the person in distress. Hence, he accidentally left his keys in the ignition like a muppet. 

Thankfully, he managed to save the outcrier and leave the crooks hanging by their ankles from a lamppost for the cops to take care of. But by the time he got back to his bike, there was a kid suspiciously crouching beside it. 

He'd hoped to approach the kid and talk to him, but the little thief heard him coming and sprang up. Based on his height and figure, Batman estimated that the boy was around fourteen or fifteen years of age. But he didn't manage to get a good look at his face since the kid had a red hoodie on underneath his leather jacket. 

The boy didn't stick around either, and hopped onto the bike right away. Batman was too far away to stop him and had to watch as the kid took off with his bike. The little scoundrel even had the audacity to flip Batman off when he had tried calling out to him. 

Yet Bruce was still mostly bothered by the fact that the kid hadn't been wearing a helmet. Especially since he figured he could just check his tracker when he got back to the Batcave, until he walked closer that is. 

Bruce then realised why the boy had been crouching before as he picked up the discarded tracker off the sidewalk. Even then, Bruce felt he could only laugh at his luck and hoped the kid at least bought a helmet if he didn't plan on scrapping or selling the bike. 

"But it's fine, I'd already been working on a new design anyway since my old one could only seat one person, but this one..." Bruce pulled the tarp off of the brand spanking new Batcycle.

Of course its style wasn't massively different from the old one since the bike still looked like it had been dipped in a vat of the darkest black paint, to the point where he could easily disappear into the depths of a tunnel or slide along an oil spill unnoticed. But it did have twice the horsepower, the most advanced suspension system, brakes that hadn't been concerningly worn down, and most importantly, twice the seats.  

"Still wanna go for a ride?" Bruce asked, offering the helmet he had bought for Robin. 

Dick instantly lit up brighter than a light bulb and squealed with excitement. "Heck yeah, I wanna go for a ride!" 

Dick tossed his blanket onto the nearby chair and snatched the helmet to squeeze his head into it. "Woah! It's like being an astronaut in here!" 

Bruce chuckled at Dick's amazement and grabbed the old biker's jacket he'd worn when he first learned to ride to zip the boy into. "You've got to hold onto me, okay? I know you like flying, but not today." 

Robin giggled at that as Bruce geared up too. "No flying off! Got it!" 

With that settled, Bruce helped Dick up onto the bike, and they were whizzing out of the Batcave and onto the highway in no time. 

Even with the rumbling of the bike beneath him and the howling wind rushing by, Bruce could still hear Robin's giggles and screams from behind him. As the road became a blur beneath the wheels spinning much faster than any bicycle Dick had ever been on, the aerialist realised how much he had missed a true adrenaline rush. 

The furious pounding of his heart reminded him just how alive he was, yet it could all be over in a moment with just one wrong move. But Dick didn't feel scared when he held on tight and looked up at the night sky with the moon following him home. He knew then that he trusted Bruce to keep him safe the same way he trusted his parents to catch him. It wasn't a feeling that surprised him, but he also knew that he couldn't admit it out loud yet.  

"Having fun?" Bruce asked when they stopped at a traffic light, effectively pulling Dick out of his pondering.  

"It's amazing!" Dick yelled as he could hardly contain his elation. "You wanna know my dream vehicle though?" 

"Go on," Bruce encouraged.  

"A motorcycle with a sidecar!" 

"Oh my god." Bruce couldn't have rolled his eyes harder.  

"Come on! They look so fun!" Dick tried to convince him, but Bruce disagreed. 

"They're so dorky!" 

"That's part of the charm!" 

Bruce sighed as he struggled not to turn Dick into a spoilt child. But his birthday was only a month away... "I'll think about it." 

"Yaaay! Thank you!" Dick cheered and hugged Bruce tighter as the traffic lights turned green. 

In the blink of an eye, they were speeding through the streets of Gotham again and filtering through the traffic as Dick waved to the envious kiddos in their silly cars. But sooner than Dick would've liked, they reached the orphanage, and he had to hop off.  

He felt a little wobbly once he touched the ground again and struggled to get his helmet off. "Hey Houston, we have a problem here! Spaceman's stuck in his suit!"  

Bruce chuckled and helped Dick free his head. "Whew! Oh, wait, that gives me a new idea!" Dick declared making Bruce squint with suspicion.

"Bat-rocket." 

"No." 

"Oh, come on!" 

"No, Robin-" 

"At least think about it!" 

"You've already given me enough to think about," Bruce said, knowing he needed to draw the line somewhere. 

"Ok, fair! I'll just ask again after I get my sidecar!"  

Bruce shook his head, yet still he couldn't help but smile as he passed Dick his helmet back. "Here, keep it. I'll pick you up next time." 

"Okay, thanks!" Dick said happily, hugging the helmet. 

"Oh, I probably won't be able to see you next week though," Bruce said as he remembered how packed his schedule was. 

"Why not?" Bruce felt both guilty and touched at how disappointed Dick sounded. 

"I've got a lot of meetings to attend." 

"Booo." Dick pouted, making Bruce smirk. 

"It's just for a week, you'll be fine." 

Dick overdramatically sighed, but accepted it nonetheless. "Fine, but I wanna really hunker down on the case next time though." 

"Sounds like a plan," Bruce said, snapping his visor down and balancing back on his bike. 

"See you later then!" Dick said with his usual bright smile. 

"See ya, kid," Bruce said without knowing that would be the last time he would speak to Robin that winter... 

Bruce usually received at least one text from Robin a day, but most of the time it was multiple. It was rare that Bruce responded beyond a thumbs-up emoji since Dick usually just text him videos of bats, silly memes, or photos he had taken around Gotham. If it were anyone else, Bruce would have found it annoying. Yet when it was Robin, he found himself looking forward to that familiar ping sound.  

But it had been a few days since Dick had last sent anything. The last messages he had received was a string of ten photos, all of a pigeon Robin had claimed he'd made friends with, and was extremely proud of himself when he managed to get the bird to land on his shoulder. Bruce had sent a clapping emoji in reply. Robin had sent a voice note when the pigeon flew away though, and sounded like he was going through a rough divorce.  

Yet he seemed to immediately get over it once he found a feather on the ground and sent a photo of it with the caption, 'Hey fancy man, think you can help me make a quill out of this?' Bruce had replied with a thumbs up to which Dick also replied with a thumbs up, effectively making fun of him. But that was the last conversation they'd had before Dick went quiet. 

It hadn't been the first time it had happened. The last time Dick missed a day he had later told Bruce that he had simply been busy playing with the other kids at the orphanage. But it had been three days now and Bruce was starting to get worried, especially when Dick wouldn't answer his call either. 

Bruce told himself the kid was fine, and he was just being paranoid. Yet that didn't stop him from driving over to the orphanage just to make sure. 

The other kids were just getting back from school when he arrived, but Bruce didn't spot Dick hopping off the bus. Hence, he said hi to the kiddos, who were familiar with him by then, before he headed inside to find Francesca cooking in the kitchen. They exchanged the usual pleasantries before Bruce offered to help and started cutting up some orange slices. 

"Is Grayson here?" he tried to ask casually as some of the kids filtered in and out of the kitchen, grabbing the sandwiches Francesca had made for them. 

"About that... I have some news," Francesca said hesitantly. "He's been adopted." 

Bruce froze as time seemed to stand still for a moment. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as dust floated in the air, illuminated by the sunlight streaming in from the window. 

He didn't know what to say, what he could say, but he supposed he should start with the most important question. "By who?" 

"I'm sorry, but that's private information I'm afraid, even to you. But don't worry, I can tell you that he's in good hands," Francesca reassured him. 

"Great... That's great..." Bruce felt himself go numb... He knew he should feel happy. Of course it was a good thing that the orphan had been adopted. Dick had said so himself that he wanted to be looked after again. So, why did he feel so sad? 

Bruce knew it wasn't like it would be the last time he saw the boy. There was no way Dick had given up on avenging his parents. It was just the possibility of calling Dick his son that had been taken from him. Bruce didn't think he would feel so affected by it, but there he was, regretting having taken so long to think about it. 

He only snapped out of his daze when Francesca spoke again. "Oh, and he also asked me to give you this if you stopped by." 

She handed him an envelope from her pocket, which read: 'To Bruce' on the front and was closed with one of Robin's stickers on the back. 

Bruce nervously peeled the envelope open and read the letter inside: 

'Hi Bruce! I know you're a worrier, so I figured I should at least leave a note behind to let you know that I'm okay! I would've text you, but my phone broke for good a couple of days ago. I'll call you when I get a new one though! But don't worry, our mission is still a go! Buuut I probably shouldn't sneak out right away either, so it might be a while until I can see you again.

By the way, if you're wondering who adopted me so quickly, it was actually my great-grandfather! Surprised? So was I! He's been living away for a while, so I've only met him once before but he's really nice! Turns out he only recently found out about my parents, which is why he didn't come for me sooner. A wild turn of events, right?   

It honestly feels kind of surreal. I don't think I've really even wrapped my head around it yet. But it's fine! It's good to be around family again, you know! Anyway, I'll be living with him from now on, but we aren't too far away since he recently moved back to Gotham. Still, I don't know exactly how long it will be until I can help with the case again. But it won't be too long, I promise you that! So don't miss me too much and take care of yourself until then!

Robin out! ;p'   

It was definitely Dick's handwriting, and he could even hear the sweet boy's voice in his head as he read it, yet it still didn't feel quite real to him. 

"Bruce, I know you're fond of him, so am I," Francesca said with a sympathetic look. "But it's not up to me to decide where he goes. Unless there's cause for concern, or the deceased parents explicitly stated otherwise, then the court always favours relatives over any other potential guardians... I'm sorry." 

"It's alright, I understand," Bruce said, pocketing the letter. "When did he leave?"  

"This morning." Francesca shrugged. "If it's any consolation, I gave his new guardian your number and told them how you've been tutoring him this past month. Perhaps they'll be in touch." 

"Perhaps? Isn't Dick still going to school?" Bruce asked with concern etched on his face. 

"His new guardian believed Grayson should return to homeschooling," Francesca said, not seeming so happy about that fact either. 

"But he was improving..." Bruce knew the boy's grades weren't the best, but that wasn't because he wasn't exceptionally bright; he just needed more time. 

"Yet still struggling. It may be better for him to go back to what he's used to." Francesca shrugged again. 

"Do you really believe that?" Bruce asked. Although he understood the argument for it, he couldn't help but be wary about it. Dick had already made friends at that school; he had already spent so much time adapting to the new environment that it felt unfair to suddenly make him get used to a new change yet again. 

"It doesn't matter what I believe, it's not up to me. I just manage this place; it's up to their case workers to handle the adoption process. And I do know they'll still be checking in on him regularly until he's settled, so relax a little, alright?" Francesca urged as she started to clean up. "Nothing's even been finalised yet. Yes, they passed all the checks, but they're still technically in the fostering stage right now." 

"It's still so sudden though, isn't it?" Bruce responded since the news had been the last thing he had expected to hear that day. 

"They wanted it to be a surprise, and we didn't want to get his hopes up in case things didn't work out, but it's been smooth sailing so far. Objectively, this is a good thing; a lot of orphans don't get to be so lucky. Trust me, I know." Francesca shot Bruce a look that told him it would be best to drop his complaints for now. 

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just..." 

"I know. I think you would've been good for him too." Francesca softly patted Bruce's shoulder before she left to hand out the orange slices to the kids in the common room.  

Left alone, Bruce could only sigh as he turned to wash his hands and let the juice on them run down into the sink. It made him think way back to when he had first met Dick; when the boy had washed away the blood on his hands and treated his minor wounds with cute plasters.  

He couldn't believe he was already getting sentimental when Dick hadn't even been gone a day yet. Turning off the tap, Bruce told himself to pull himself together. He could be patient; he could wait for his phone to ring... 

Bruce's patience lasted three weeks. He asked every week how the check-ups were going, but the answer was the same every time. 'Grayson is doing well,' she kept telling him, so why couldn't he shake the horrible feeling in his gut that something was wrong? 

Bruce just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep taking everyone else's word, he had to see Dick for himself and know for certain that he was okay. Hence, he hacked into the orphanage's data, and it didn't take him long to find Dick's files. 

On record, it was all as they had said. Dick had been adopted by his great-grandfather, a man named William Cobb. He had passed every background check, which deemed him fit to adopt the child, yet Bruce couldn't help but think that there was something off about him.  

Where had he come from so suddenly? Dick had said he'd met him before, presumably with his parents, so he didn't seem to be lying about his relation to him. But Cobb's listed address made him all the more suspicious... 

Bruce could admit that Cobb had a nice house. But that was hardly a surprise since it was in one of Gotham's wealthier neighbourhoods. Still, it wasn't an area Batman had visited much. Not because there weren't criminals living there, but simply because their crimes were usually different from what he was used to dealing with. 

But Batman knew he was hardly an example of a law-abiding citizen as he picked the lock to the back door of the house. A part of him knew that he really shouldn't be doing it. But the part of him that was desperate to simply see Dick again drastically outweighed that.  

He told himself that he just needed to have one conversation with the boy to know he was safe, then his mind would be at ease. Since the car was gone from the driveway, he figured he may have the chance to if Dick was home alone. But just as Batman managed to unlock the door, he heard a voice come from behind him. 

"The fuck are you doing?" 

Batman spun around to see a kid standing there, but it wasn't the one he was looking for. Yet it was one he had seen before. 

"You're that kid who stole my bike," Batman stated his realisation out loud as Jason Todd looked up at him. 

He was wearing the same outfit as he had been before, with his red hood up and his hands hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. Yet he didn't seem at all concerned about the Batman recognising him as he stood there emitting an aura of nonchalance. 

"No, I'm not," Jason said, seeming completely unfazed. 

"Yes, you are," Batman responded, shocked the boy would even try to deny it when he had so clearly been caught red-handed. 

Yet Jason repeated. "No, I'm not." 

"I saw you do it," Batman said, even though he didn't think he would have to since they had literally made eye contact. 

"No, you didn't," the little gaslighter insisted.  

Batman gave the boy an unimpressed look as he realised what the other was doing. "That's not going to work, I know what I saw." 

"And do you have any proof of what you supposedly saw?" 

"Well, no, bu-" 

"Then you didn't see anything." Jason shrugged. "The same way I didn't just see you breaking and entering," he said, stepping passed Batman and into the house. 

"Thanks for opening the door for me, champ," Jason added, patting Batman on his arm on the way. 

It was only then that Batman saw the brass knuckles the boy had on. Yet he wasn't shocked by them. It made sense if the boy, who went around stealing motorcycles, was a street kid. Bruce could only hope that he hadn't had to use them often.  

"Wait, do you live here?" Batman asked, realising the answer was most likely no. 

"Do you?" Jason asked back to which Batman stayed silent. "I believe the word you're looking for is touché." 

Unfortunately, Batman didn't have much of a defence. Hence, he stepped into the house and closed the squeaky door behind them.  

"You didn't answer my question earlier either," Jason said as he ventured further into the house.  

Batman then noticed the embroidery on the back of the leather jacket for the first time, which read: 'Jennie and the Jets'. Bruce recognised the name of the indie metal band since he had briefly listened to them during a phase in his teenage years. However, he was pretty sure they never made it big enough to have merchandise of that quality. But he put that little nugget of information in the back of his mind for now. 

"I'm investigating," Batman admitted, hoping he could get some answers out of the fellow intruder. 

"Investigating what?" Jason asked as he rounded the corner like he knew exactly where he was going. 

"The person who lives here," Batman answered, following the boy into the kitchen.  

"Well, they'll be back soon, so you better make you're 'investigating' quick." When Jason opened the fridge door, his face was illuminated for the first time. 

Although he appeared to have a rather strong build for a boy his age, he still had a very young face, which made him look frankly adorable when he pouted. He also had a small scar down his temple, a fading bruise beneath his eye and his slightly chipped front tooth. When he reached in for a glass bottle, Bruce noticed his knuckles were red, his fingertips were calloused, and his nails were painted. But Bruce doubted the boy had painted them himself; it actually looked like something Dick would do since it was a smiley face painted onto each nail. 

Jason then pried the bottle cap off with his teeth before he tossed it into the bin. By the way he seemed totally unconcerned about leaving fingerprints or signs he had been there, Batman suspected he knew the owner of the house personally. Yet he oddly seemed in no rush to sound the alarm over the other intruder. 

Yet he did mind being stared at. "What are you looking at?" he asked, seeming annoyed already.  

"Nice jacket," Batman complimented, trying to make the other relax a little. "I used to listen to them back in the day." 

The furrow of Jason's brows eased as his eyes widened before he scoffed. "Back in the day? What are you, fifty?" 

"No." Bruce scoffed too. "They're a little old for you though, aren't they? Where did you get it from?" 

"None of your business," Jason sneered before he took a swig of his drink.  

Bruce decided not to push it further and started to look around, even as Jason watched him. 

It was a vintage style kitchen that would've made for a perfect backdrop for a terrible commercial selling an exciting new kitchen appliance in the sixties. With its honey-coloured cabinets and outdated oven, it could do with a makeover. But Bruce wasn't there to judge Cobb's style, he was there to hopefully find more important information about him. 

"It was my mommy-" Jason cleared his throat. "My mom's," he said in a deeper voice than before. "She was the drummer." 

Bruce hadn't expected the boy to speak again, and frankly neither did Jason. But he was proud of his mommy and felt bad ignoring a question about her band. 

"Oh... Cool." Bruce nodded. 

"I know it's cool." Jason tried his best to scowl, but the tips of his ears still blushed a cherry blossom pink. 

Still, Bruce knew he couldn't be mad that the teen kept responding like he was trying to start an argument; he had done the same thing to Alfred at Jason's age. Therefore, he knew the best thing was to sometimes just leave him be, so he didn't say anything more. 

"You're not going to get any answers out of me, you know," Jason still said defensively. 

"I wasn't trying to," Batman responded, but Jason didn't believe him and rolled his eyes.  

"Sure you weren't," he muttered as he walked out of the kitchen. 

But Batman didn’t follow along since he wanted to look around some more. Hence, he headed into the adjoining dining room. The first thing he noticed was that one of the chairs had been pulled out and left at an angle. It wouldn’t have stood out much if everything else weren’t so perfectly in place. No book on the shelf was crooked, no placemat was at an angle, no ornament was smothered with dust. The only other thing that wasn’t organised was the scattered papers on the table. 

If it was Cobb who had been there, then he had clearly left in a rush. Batman only became more certain of that when he realised the papers were bank statements. None of the transactions stood out to him at first glance. However, he made sure to get footage of them all so that he could further examine them later. 

Just as he was carefully positioning the papers back to their original spots, he heard footsteps upstairs, followed by the creak of the stairs. Soon enough, Jason rejoined him and Bruce froze when he saw what the boy was holding by its arm. 

"What are you doing with that?" Bruce asked as he tried to keep his voice steady. 

"What's it to you?" Jason asked, holding the teddy bear Bruce had won for Dick. 

"You shouldn't steal," Batman said, seeming far more protective over a teddy bear than Jason had expected. 

"Oh, please! Says the lockpicking vigilante! Do you really think you, of all people, can lecture me about the law?" 

Bruce's jaw tensed, but he couldn't let Jason leave with that gift. "Please leave it." 

Batman's soft plea made Jason pause as he wondered why the other seemed so bothered about it. 

"I'm not stealing it. The kid it belongs to wants it, so I'm bringing it to him," Jason said as he headed back to the entryway. 

Bruce's eyes widened as he immediately followed along. 

"Why doesn't he come to get it himself then?" he asked as he tried not to sound too frantic.

"What's with all the questions? Are you the teddy bear police or something?" Jason asked, looking baffled by the vigilante’s persistence. 

"The person I'm investigating is Dick Grayson. Do you know him?" 

In an instant, Jason's entire demeanour shifted. His gaze turned colder than an ice cave as every muscle in his body tensed. His previous nonchalance practically disappeared as he came across like a dog ready to bite.  

"What's there to investigate about him?" Jason asked, unblinking as Batman realised he should choose his next words very carefully. 

"Someone's worried about him." 

"Who?" One word, and Batman started to wonder if this was how the criminals he interrogated felt.  

But it was still too risky to answer honestly. "That's confidential." 

Jason scoffed. "Then anything I know about him is confidential too," he said before walking away.  

"Wait, please," Bruce pleaded as he hurried after Jason, since he knew better than trying to grab the street kid who was clearly on guard around him. "It's his family at the circus." 

That made Jason pause by the door. 

"He hasn't been answering his phone for the past few weeks. So, they're concerned something may have happened to him," Bruce continued, relieved that the kid at least stopped to hear him out. 

But Jason cocked a brow at that. "And they asked you for help?" 

"They don't trust the police," Batman replied, knowing that much was true and most Gothamites understood why. 

Yet Jason didn't seem much less sceptical. "But they trust you? " 

"They don't have any other options." 

Jason looked Batman up and down with his brows still furrowed. "Didn't think you were the type to look for lost kids." 

"Why not?" Batman asked, realising the kid definitely had some kind of problem with him, although he didn't understand why. 

Yet Jason ignored the question. "Tell them not to worry, Dick's fine. His phone is just broken. He'll call them when he gets a new one." 

"And when will that be?" Bruce asked, trying not to sound desperate. 

"I don't know, a while." Jason shrugged, seeming more annoyed the more questions he asked. 

"Then where is he?" Batman cut to the chase. 

"I'm not telling you," Jason responded, swinging open the door. 

"Why not?" Batman asked, following him out into the back garden.

It was a small space since the house was on top of a tall hill, and there was a steep drop only a short walk away. 

"Because if you are telling the truth then his family should understand why I'm not telling some strange man his location," Jason said, walking away from him. "I told you he's fine, that's all you need to know." 

"If he's fine then why isn't he living at home?" 

Jason paused and sighed at the other's insistence. "It's a long story, alright? But I swear I'm not lying! He's fine!" 

Jason's annoyance deflated slightly when he turned around and looked Bruce in the eyes. The genuine, deep worry behind them made him falter. 

"Robin's my friend," he added in a softer tone of voice. "I would never let anything happen to him." 

Although Bruce had a hard time trusting most people, he could still tell that Jason was being deeply sincere. For the first time in weeks, he felt some relief from that. 

"Hence, they have nothing to worry about, so go fly on back to them, you overgrown goth chicken." Jason waved him off and turned around to walk away again. 

But Batman replied, “Chickens can’t fly.” 

Jason stopped and looked at Batman with a perplexed expression. “That’s what you took from that?” 

“Not just that.” Batman stepped closer to the boy, who he was a whole foot taller than. "You're a kid too, it's not your responsibility to look after him. I can help both of you if you just let me-" 

"I'm not as weak as you think I am, Batboy. I can handle it. I've even got a guard dog." Jason smirked and emitted a loud whistle. 

Batman glanced over Jason’s shoulder and prepared himself for the attack. Naturally, he expected to see a fearsome dog like a rottweiler, a dobermann or perhaps a boxer to come running towards him. But there she was...

A little pomeranian came excitedly bounding over the hill.  

It was so unbelievably unintimidating that Batman even thought Jason had accidentally caught the attention of a stray dog until the boy commanded, "Bop-it, attack!" 

The pomeranian ran up to Batman and reached up to him, with her tiny paws just being able to rest on his knee, even though she was at her full standing height. She didn't even try to attack him as she seemed ecstatic to meet him with her tongue stuck out and her tail wagging happily. 

"God dammit Bop-it," Jason muttered as Bop-it let out an excited bark. 

"Bop-it?" Batman questioned what kind of name that was. 

"Not my idea." Jason shrugged. "Her legal name is Samantha, but Dickie-bird doesn't think it suits her." 

"But Bop-it does?" Bruce asked since he was pretty sure that was the name of an old children's toy. 

"She likes to do tricks. Watch," Jason said, crouching down and setting the teddy bear down so that he could gain Bop-it's attention with another whistle. 

"Twist it," he said, prompting the dog to lie down and roll over a full 360 degrees.  

"Pull it," he continued, partially retracting his arm out of his sleeve so the end flopped over. Bop-it then chomped down on the end of the sleeve and playfully tugged it. 

"Bop it." At Jason's command, Bop-it dropped the sleeve and politely sat, allowing Jason to boop her nose. She then immediately nuzzled against Jason's hand as she tried to get him to pet her. 

"See, she likes it," Jason said, as he ruffled the dog's fur and smiled for the first time since Bruce had met him. 

Bruce couldn't deny that the dog did seem very happy about it. The silly name and the set of tricks also seemed like exactly something Dick would come up with, which made Bruce start to believe Jason more. 

"She wants you to bop it too," Jason said as he stopped petting the dog, and Bop-it sat by Batman's feet, waiting for the same kind of attention. 

Bruce only hesitated for a moment, but it was still long enough for Jason to sternly say, "Boop the baby, Batman." 

Feeling mildly threatened, Batman crouched down and booped the happy dog's nose before he scooped her up into his arms and rubbed her belly. 

"A very effective guard dog, I see," Batman noted as he stood back up, hoping as long as he had the dog, he would have time to make the boy talk.  

"Hey, she is, alright? She doesn't see you as a threat," Jason said, stepping forward to pet the dog too.  

"And neither do I. So, if you really don't believe I can handle myself, then we can fight right now." Jason took a few steps back with both hands in his pockets and an air of confidence surrounding him.  

"You're being serious?" Batman asked, scratching Bop-it behind her ears as she nuzzled against him. 

"Fully. I'll even let you throw the first punch." Jason shrugged.

But Bruce wouldn't even think of entertaining the idea. "I'm not going to hit a child." 

"I'm not a child." Jason's response came too quickly, and Bruce's heart ached to hear the boy say it as if he really believed it. 

"You are, but that doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're young, that's all. You deserve to be protected too-" 

"Why would I need protecting if I'm not weak, huh?" Jason cut Batman off as his scowl returned. 

"Because precious things are protected too. Like Bop-it." Bruce gently set the dog back down and let the fluffy little cloud run back to Jason. The boy's expression shifted slightly as he stayed quiet and looked down at his dog. 

"Even if you feel older than you are, that doesn't change your age. You're still a boy and I'm a fully grown man; I'm not going to fight you." 

"You don't even know my age," Jason stubbornly mumbled.  

"How old are you then?" Bruce asked even though the boy couldn't pass for older than sixteen, at most. 

"Forty-five," Jason deadpanned, making Batman give him an unimpressed look. "What? You're not my mom, you don't know. But it doesn't matter either way. It’s not like I haven’t fought grown men before.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bruce replied sincerely, and Jason’s expression faltered again before he scoffed. 

“Why? I never said I lost. So, hurry up already!”  

Batman stepped forward, not because he was actually going to do it, but he figured if he intimidated the kid just a little bit, he might back down a little. But he didn't get far since the second he did so, Jason's hand was out of his pocket in an instant and throwing something at Batman's ankles. 

Unfortunately, Bruce didn't realise what it was until he was cushioning his fall with his hands as he slammed down onto the grass. "What the-" 

He glanced down at his feet to see why he couldn't move and saw his bolas wrapped around his ankles. Turns out, the sneaky little pickpocket had secretly swiped them off his belt when he had petted Bop-it in Batman's arms. The dog, who wasn't a guard dog after all, was a distraction dog! 

"Ha! Later, loser! I'm gonna go ride your bike!" Jason proudly declared as he picked the teddy bear back up and started running away. "Come on, Bop-it!" 

The dog sympathetically licked Bruce's face before she ran after Jason, who disappeared down the hill. 

'Kids these days.' Bruce cursed himself for having his guard down and being knocked down by a child, yet again. He hurried to free himself, but it was of no use. 

Jason was long gone by the time he got up, and there was not much point in trying to catch up to him. The last thing he would want was for the kid to get in some kind of accident if they ended up in a chase. He also didn't want to miss his chance to search Dick's room whilst he still could. If Jason had been telling the full truth, then the owner would be home soon. So, Batman rushed back inside and headed upstairs to find Dick’s room. 

It wasn’t as if Dick had many possessions to begin with, so it was easy to tell that he had brought all he had to his new room. His nightlights, his action figures, and the helmet Bruce had given him were all there, but his backpack wasn’t. He never went anywhere without it, making Bruce all the more curious where the boy had gone in the middle of the night if the rest of his stuff was still there. 

Needing to leave with some kind of lead, Batman decided to pick the lock to the bedside drawer. But the only thing inside was a tattered notebook. On the front it read: 'For Robin's eyes only! Hands off!', with a doodle next to it of a robin holding a spork like it was a knife.  

Despite the warning, Batman flipped open to the first page to confirm what he thought it was. 

'Dear diary,   

That's how I'm supposed to start, right? I don't really know, it's only day one of diarying- is that a word? journaling. But Dr. Mindy said it will be good for me to get my thoughts down. Is that all I'm supposed to do? Write down everything I think?   

Hellooooo! Apples! Pears! Kirby! Jeans! Poodles!'  

Under any other circumstances, Bruce wouldn't even think of reading any more, but he needed a lead. Hence, he flipped to the last page of the full diary, hoping that Dick had wrote something about where he had gone. 

'Dear Daryl,   

I've reached my last page boooo! I actually kinda liked doing this after all! I'll try to buy a new one when I can, but I suppose it's fitting to end this one today. It's a proper end to book one, I'll say!  

Like I mentioned yesterday, I moved out of the orphanage today and into Mr. Cobb's house. It's a nice place! Buuut I think Bruce may have converted me to the dark side. Don't get me wrong, I still think it wouldn't kill the man to add a pop of colour every now and then! But I actually kinda miss his whole aesthetic. Probably just because I miss him.

I wish I could call him already, but I think it's gonna be a while until I get a new phone. At least I'll have time to come up with a cooler story for how I broke my last one! There's no way I'm telling him the real story, it would be way too embarrassing! Maybe I could use one of those old payphones around town for now? I've always wanted to! Oh fuuuuck, I just realised I can't remember his number :'''''')  

Oh well, I'll sneak out to see him soon enough. He's probably not that worried about me anyway. Maybe he's glad to finally have a break from me! It was always hard to tell whether or not I was annoying to him. I tried not to be, well, okay, maybe sometimes I was on purpose, but most of the time I wasn't! I really do still wanna be real friends with him instead of him helping me out of pity. But it's out of my control now, so imma try not to think about him too much for now. I'm sure he'll be fine! Alfred will take good care of him!  

Anyways, I know I should be more focused on Mr. Cobb! I mean, new grandpa unlocked, hello? I said I'd make dinner tonight as a thank you, and I'm thinking of making corn on the cob? The food of his people! I should probably make something to go with it though. Maybe mashed potatoes? Those seem easy enough. Oh! Maybe I could make elote! Mrs. Mora made a banger elote! Okay, I'm doing that! So, I gotta get going now, Daryl! Talk to you again in book 2! I love you!  

Robin out!'   

Bruce shut the diary and placed it back in the drawer. He wasn't quite sure why Dick had started calling his diary 'Daryl', but he wasn't going to read him anymore when it wouldn't give him any clues. But Bruce also couldn't just ignore what the diary had said and felt awful because of it.  

"I don't think you're annoying," Bruce whispered to nobody. He hadn't realised Dick genuinely thought he was only looking out for him out of pity. He would have said something to him if he did.  

But if he was certain of anything, it was that he was going to give Robin the biggest hug when he found him. He waited there all night in case he could do just that, but no one came home, even when sunlight started to peek through the curtains. 

When Bruce returned to the Batcave, he checked the street surveillance to follow Jason's tracks. But the footage wasn't as helpful as Bruce had hoped, since Jason had soon disappeared into Gotham's underground. It wasn't too surprising since he knew that some people lived down there, but it would be pointless to try to find him down there. 

The labyrinth lying beneath Gotham was a place even Batman couldn't navigate. Although the Waynes owned maps of the city that no one else possessed, even those were incomplete. Hence, his parents warned him to never go down there since there were plenty of ghost stories that originated from people going down into the tunnels and never coming back up. 

Luckily, Batman still had something to go off of since he had gotten a clear image of the thief's face this time with his contacts and could scan it for any matches on his database. He was expecting some possible school photographs to show up, but found mugshots instead.  

The boy’s criminal record showed his name was Jason Todd, he was only fourteen years old, yet had been arrested multiple times, all on charges of theft. Bruce could hardly think he was a bad kid by any means though, especially when one of the charges was stealing medicine from a pharmacy. 

Fortunately, all of the charges against him seemed to have been dropped. Bruce wasn't surprised though when he saw Gordon's signature on his files. The officer had always had a soft spot for kids and avoided sending them to juvie any time he could. Instead, he would try to get them to join the program they had for at-risk youth, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to refuse. 

However, it appeared Jason's father hadn't been so lucky as he was on record for currently serving a prison sentence. Even the young boy's mother had been arrested for possession of Class A drugs. But judging by her death certificate, she had unfortunately died from an overdose before she went to trial. 

Bruce's heart ached for the kid and his family, but the records revealed more than just his personal history. That mysterious name showed up again: William Cobb. Apparently, he had been the one to pay Jason's mother's bail.  

While the gesture was kind on the surface, it made the man all the more suspicious. Sure, it was possible that he was simply a good Samaritan, but Bruce knew it was a common gang recruitment tactic to make a vulnerable youth feel indebted to them. 

"Brilliant, now I've got two kids to find." Bruce sighed and rubbed his sore eyes. He supposed it was a good thing that Dick was at least with a friend for now. But he knew he still wouldn't be at ease until he found them.

'Monday, March 20th.  

It's Robin's birthday today. He'll be turning twelve. I can only hope he has a nice day with a cake, and maybe Jason will give him a present too. But I have no idea. I still haven't heard from him. I know Alfred's worried it's driving me mad. Maybe he's right. It does feel like there's another ghost haunting me now.   

I no longer hear mom's voice calling for me from downstairs, but now I think it's him every time I hear a bird outside. I thought I had filtered him out every time he whistled when the cave became too quiet for him. Yet now I seem to remember every note.  

Maybe I'll hear it in the crowd today. It's possible. He did go to the mayor's last speech...'  

Mayor Réal was set to give another speech in the city centre that day. Since spring was a time of renewal, it felt fitting to reassure the people of their progress as the last of the city repairs had been completed. 

She had requested that Bruce be there as well since he had played a major role in the funding. He had declined to make a speech himself, but he had agreed to join her on stage alongside the others who had led the city's restoration efforts. 

Naturally, Bruce didn't really want to go when he had other things on his mind, but he knew it would be a bad look if he didn't make an appearance. Lucius had already done so much to revitalise Wayne Enterprises, therefore, Bruce felt he owed him that much. 

Hence, he shut his journal and headed to the parking lot. The bobblehead Dick had bought for him was still on his car's dashboard, which didn't help get his mind off the kid, so he stashed it in the glove compartment. 

The traffic was light, so it didn't take him long to reach the event in a small park surrounded by high-rise office buildings. There was a stage set up by the flooding memorial statue in the centre, and a large crowd had gathered behind the news crew to watch. Bruce was escorted by police officers towards the front, where Mayor Réal was getting ready to go on as soon as Gordon confirmed one last time with the security team that everything was secure.  

Naturally, after the last assassination attempt on the mayor, the security for the event was at an all-time high, including a counter-sniper team at the ready in the nearby buildings. But they didn't make Bruce feel at ease at all, especially when they made their way onto the stage.  

The crowd applauded, and Bella thanked everyone for being there before she began her speech. Bruce was in a lineup behind her with a few other activists and city councillors, all of whom Bruce had met briefly at galas before, but he wasn't paying attention much.  

He briefly glanced at the snipers pointing out of the windows from high above, but they made his palms sweat when he wasn't in his suit. Hence, he focused his gaze on the crowd, scanning the area for one particular familiar face, but found no such luck. 

Bruce tried his best not to sigh and looked up at the sky instead. It was a sunny day with a flock of birds passing by and only a few clouds drifting in the sea of cerulean above. 'I wonder if Robin made any pigeon friends lately,' he thought as he didn’t even care that the sun was hurting his eyes. 

Eventually, the speech came to an end, and Bruce was startled out of his daze by the loud applause that followed. He instinctively clapped along and was relieved when he was finally allowed to leave as Réal took further questions from the journalists.  

Bruce subtly made his way out of the park and headed towards his car, parked on the opposite side of the street. But as he walked down the quiet sidewalk, sunlight suddenly hit his eyes as if reflecting off something. Instinctively, he turned to see what it was, which is when his heart stopped. 

A batarang was embedded into the side of a mailbox. 

But it didn't make any sense. Batman always kept track of them. But he hadn't even been in the area recently. 

Bruce frantically approached the mailbox and pulled the batarang free. He turned it around to examine it, which is when his heart dropped even further into the pit of his stomach.  

It had stickers on it. The very same ones Dick had used when they first met. 

Bruce anxiously looked around as his breathing quickened, but he couldn't see the boy anywhere. 

"Robin!" Bruce desperately called out anyway, but no sweet voice called back to him. 

Bruce tried his best not to panic and pulled out his phone. 

As soon as the call connected, he said, "Alfred, I need you to look at the CCTV footage by the park's entrance from the past twenty minutes." 

"I'll get it up now, but what am I looking for?" Alfred asked as he immediately headed down to the Batcave. 

"I need you to tell me if you see Robin anywhere. His batarang was stuck in a mailbox." Bruce tried to keep his voice steady, but Alfred could hear the worry in his voice and moved as quickly as he could. 

"I'm on it." 

As Alfred searched through the footage, Bruce tried to find more clues as to what had happened. He knew Robin couldn't have been gone long, someone would have already taken the batarang if he hadn't seen it first. But why had he been there? 

The only noteworthy thing about his surroundings was that he was standing right outside one of the buildings where one of the snipers was stationed. Bruce looked up to see if the sniper was still in position, but was shocked to find that they weren't. His gaze snapped to the other buildings and found that none of the other snipers had retreated since the mayor hadn't left yet.  

"Alfred-" 

"Hang on, I don't see him yet..." 

It was almost the longest minutes of Bruce's life until he heard, "Oh god." 

The sheer dread in Alfred's voice made Bruce's blood run cold. "What is it?" 

"I..." 

"Alfred-" Bruce's phone suddenly chimed. He opened the video Alfred had sent him. 

11:39 AM: Dick was spotted frantically running into the building.  

11:46 AM: Dick ran out of the building with a panicked expression and threw the Batarang at the mailbox. He started running in the opposite direction from it, but he didn't get far.

11:47 AM: The sniper ran out of the building and quickly caught up to Dick. The man picked Dick up and covered his mouth as he carried him back inside the building all while Dick struggled to free himself from the other's grasp.   

11:49 AM: A van quickly came around the corner. One man exited the vehicle whilst the driver remained inside and a few pedestrians passed by.   

11:51 AM: The street was clear once more. The man opened the van's doors as the sniper exited the building with the limp boy slung over his shoulder. He quickly entered the van and the other shut the door behind him.  

11:52 AM: The van drove away.  

Bruce suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe, but he didn't have time to panic. According to the time of the recordings, it had happened five minutes ago, and every minute counted since then.  

"Alfred, find that van." 

"Already on it." 

Bruce got into his car and the engine roared. 

"They took a right at the end of the street. Hurry." 

Bruce didn't need to be told twice as he sped down the street and around the corner.  

"Take a left." Alfred's voice was a unique kind of calm as he monitored the traffic cameras and guided Bruce through Gotham's streets. It was cold and authoritative, like he had shut down any emotion that could distract him. 

Bruce usually never had a problem doing the same. This was the only time he couldn't. His heart was pounding, his head was spinning, and he felt nauseous. He couldn't even look at the time since it felt too much like a bomb counting down.  

The streets passed by in a blur as all he could hear was Alfred's voice over the rumbling of the car’s engine, which never usually sounded so loud, and his mind, which wouldn't shut up. 

'Calm down. He needs you. You failed him. I will find him. He's gone. I can get him back. You'll be bringing back a body.' 

"Stop!" 

Bruce slammed on the brakes. 

"It's here. They went into the tunnels... Be careful." 

Bruce lost cell reception once he entered Gotham's underground. It was as every bit as chilling as his parents had warned him it would be. Not an ounce of light could reach him as he ventured deeper and deeper. With his phone's flashlight only able to illuminate a few feet in front of him, the dark, dingy tunnels seemed never-ending.  

Yet Bruce walked straight into that abyss, with his footsteps through shallow water echoing and a strange whistling sound haunting the tunnels. But the most terrifying part about it was that he seemed to be alone. 

Since the sun couldn't find him, Bruce had no idea how long he was down there for, searching endlessly like some kind of feral animal. Yet there was nothing. His only company were the freezing stone walls and the deafening silence that even his heartbeat felt too loud for. 

Hour after hour, exhaustion seeped into his bones and tried to force his body to rest. But Bruce couldn't accept it. 

His ears were ringing again. His hands were wet, with water or blood, he couldn’t tell. He couldn't breathe. It felt like he was right back in that alleyway again. 

And just like that, Dick Grayson disappeared...