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“Master?”
Dick woke with the word on his tongue.
He. He wasn’t in his room. Or rather. This was his room. But not the one he went to bed in. This was. Wayne manor?
No. He couldn’t be here. If he was here, that meant-
He scrambled his shirt off. There. Over his heart. The S seal. Master’s symbol.
He calmed a bit.
Master said. Master said that if ever didn’t want him anymore, he’d burn the brand off himself. Dick had cried into his chest.
If the brand was still there, then Master had not abandoned him. Master still wanted him.
Master. He needed to contact Master. Master would know what to do. Master always knew what to do. Dick was just a tool to be wielded by Master if he was lucky.
“Grayson?”
Dick’s head snapped around.
A boy. His age, maybe younger. He was rubbing his eyes. Spiky hair, pajamas.
“Could I stay with you tonight? Nightmare.”
What the fuck.
Dick stayed silent. He didn't know what to say. He didn’t know who this kid is. He didn’t know what situation this is. He wanted to leave. He wanted Master.
The boy seemed to notice something was wrong. His eyes focused, locked in on Dick.
“Grayson?”
Dick stared back. His hand reached behind him, scrambling for something. A weapon. Purchase. Something. His fingers closed on something soft.
He looked down. A plush? Elephant. Zitka? Dick felt tears come to his eyes. He thought he would never see Zitka again. When Master took him he couldn’t bring anything with him.
Maybe. Maybe Master would be okay if he brought Zitka?
“Grayson? Is that you?”
The boy called again. Dick didn’t bother with answering. He tucked Zitka against his chest, grabbed the pillow, and threw. The boy dodged.
“Grayson, what-“
Before the boy finished speaking Dick was out the window. His body moved the familiar path down the tree and into the woods behind Wayne manor.
Zitka stayed pressed to his chest, safe, above his heart, above the brand.
He had to find his way back to Master.
He knew Master had a safe house in Gotham. He just had to get there. Then Master would find him.
The woods led to an opening in the fence, exactly where Dick knew there would be. He escaped the manor many times as a child this way.
Dick climbed out.
He kept to the shadows, staying off the open roads as much as he could. Motorcycles rushed past him, ridden by colorfully dressed vigilantes.
That was odd. Gotham should only have Batman. And Robin, once upon a time. Not anymore. Did Bruce loose his ”I work alone” attitude?
Dick stayed hidden until they passed. He scanned for any street cameras, and kept out of line of sight of those as well, just in case.
Slowly, he made his way to Master’s safe house in downtown Gotham.
He climbed the fire escape. Difficult with only one hand. But the other was holding Zitka. He tapped the access code on the window.
It blinked red. Denied.
Did. Did Master intend to lock him out? Was this a test?
Dick curled up against the window sill. No matter. Master would have gotten an alert anyways. He would know where Dick was.
He pressed a hand to the brand.
Yeah. Master has not abandoned Dick. He would come for him. He hoped. No. He knew. Dick tucked his face into Zitka’s fur. It has been so long.
It was cold. The chill of Gotham’s night air even crueler without his shirt. Dick shivered, holding Zitka tighter.
He waited. He didn’t know how long. He must’ve fallen asleep at some point.
Until-
The window he was leaning against opened. Dick fell backwards with a yelp.
Into familiar arms.
Master.
“Master!”
“Kid?”
“Master! Dick swung around, his arms closed around Master. His face pressed uncomfortably against cold armor.
“I waited for you! I was in Wayne manner but I escaped. I knew you had a safe house here. So I came to find you. I missed you, Master!”
“Look!” Dick raised the plush. “I found Zitka. I brought her. I hope. I hope that’s okay?”
Master was frozen for a moment, then one of his hands wrapped around the back of Dick’s neck. With his other, he took off the signature black and orange mask. The hand around his neck squeezed, and the familiarity of it nearby made Dick cry.
Dick watched as his eye focused on the S brand right above his heart. Dick felt a surge of pride. Master liked his brand on him.
“You did well, my apprentice.”
Dick beamed.
“Thank you, Master!”