Author's Note: It's time again for me to finally unleash an actual multi-chapter story!
Disclaimer: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"—either way I don't own Batman.
Lost & Found
Chapter 1
Dick surveyed the room trying to decide if there was anything else he could bring. So far, he had decided on one pair of clothes since he couldn't find any of the original
clothes he had brought with him. That butler must have done something with them.
His eyes wandered over the spacious room that had been given to him. There was not much he could take. Nothing was really his.
He took the small framed picture of his parents off the nightstand, wrapped it up in his spare shirt, and placed it into his bag.
The only thing that he was really tempted to take was the allowance money that he had been given, but his parents didn't raise a thief so he left it where he kept it in
the top drawer.
Carefully making sure that everything was how it had been when he arrived, he opened up his bedroom window and made his escape.
He honestly thought about leaving a note or something, but decided not to.
It wasn't like anyone was going to miss him. Most days no one even paid attention to him. The only time he was ever looked for was whenever there was a meal.
Apparently, the butler thought that eating meals was important.
Dick judged that he had a good several hours to start walking before he was even discovered gone. He had no fear that they would even bother to look for him.
He decided to head for the city. That was any easy enough place to find. After that, he wasn't quite sure what to do.
Everything he had was gone and what he had left of his family was buried in a cemetery.
He stopped walking.
He wasn't even sure where that was in this cursed town.
His shoulders sagged.
What was he doing? He knew nothing about this town. How on earth did he think he was going to survive?
People on the sidewalk brushed past the boy standing still. No one stopped; few even glanced his way. In a city of thousands what was one orphaned boy?
Dick bit his lip and looked around for anything.
He had been gone for a few hours now and there was no going back.
It was not like he could just go back. He had left—they weren't going to want him back.
He was truly alone now. Not even the man who had taken in him wanted him.
Dick swallowed back a sob as he looked around the street again.
He had never been out in a city by himself. He was always with his parents and his dad would always carry him on his shoulders.
Everything in this city just seemed cold and dark. It seemed void of any joy or happiness. It was potentially the dreariest place on earth and now he was trapped here.
Even if he could go; he wouldn't know where to run to. The circus was long gone.
He scuffed his shoes against the pavement. They were brand new shoes. His old ones had been thrown out or something. New ones had been bought for him.
Dick was pretty certain he had never had a new pair in his life.
Everything happened in a flash. In one moment he had lost everything; in the next there wasn't anything he wanted that he couldn't have except . . . the things that
matter most. The things that money couldn't buy.
He didn't seem to be able to understand that.
Dick wrapped his arms around his body and tried to decide what to do.
All around him buzzed the world at its usual pace. People, trains, buses, cars . . . it was no place for a child.
Dick turned his head every which way in search of an idea.
On the other side of the street he spotted a mother and a daughter walking along with a few bags of groceries. He decided to follow them for what it was worth. Maybe
he would find someplace to stay. It was starting to get dark.
"I'm just starting to get worried. I can't find him anywhere."
Bruce massaged his forehead as he tried to calm Alfred down.
"He has always turned up Alfred, you know that. He's probably just lost on one of the floors or out on the grounds somewhere. He was a pretty active kid."
Bruce cradled the phone between his shoulder and his neck and he reached for another stack of papers on his desk.
"But he usually shows up for lunch. I keep walking around and calling out his name, but he doesn't come."
"He could be asleep somewhere and can't hear you."
"You're being awfully calm about this." Alfred said sharply.
"The kid is still settling in. He hasn't even been here two full weeks. He's been through a lot and needs space. Trust me, I know." Bruce tacked on bitterly.
"Yes but . . ."
Bruce heard the butler sigh heavily into the phone.
"What works for you may not work for him. So if you would just please come home soon it would relieve my mind."
Bruce glanced up at the clock.
"Alright. I'll squeeze out of here early. Don't worry. He's around there somewhere."
Bruce hung up the phone and glanced out the window.
Dick tried not to follow too closely. He didn't want to scare them, not that he looked intimidating.
They walked further down quite streets and some alleys that Dick wouldn't dare venture alone. The mother and daughter wound up in a small subdivision that looked
like it had seen better days. The building were old and brick. Many had dying trees in their front yards.
He watched them enter in to one of the houses.
The sun had almost set and he had nowhere to go.
He walked along the sidewalk behind some of the houses. Many of the houses looked abandoned, but he didn't dare try to see if he could find a way into one of them.
He wandered down another road and came to a stop when he saw a small structure that looked like a small house. There was beaten up siding on it, but it looked
stable enough.
It sat a good distance behind the house that accompanied it. The door was unlocked.
Inside sat an old couch and lots of stacked up boxes. He supposed it to be a storage shed of some kind. There wasn't much room, but maybe he could spend the night
here.
It was dry and had a roof. That was something.
He set his bag down in a corner of the square room and sat down next to it. His mind instantly made a comparison.
This night he could have been sleeping in a huge bed in an even larger room, but here he was in a small . . . . shed just trying to find a place to be safe.
Dick stood up again and walked around.
What am I doing? What is going to happen to me now?
He closed his eyes and wished that he could just wake up from this nightmare, but he had been wishing that for days and it had never happened.
Barbara Gordon shut the backdoor to quickly drown out her parent's arguing. The sun had already set so there really wasn't anywhere for her to go besides her old
playhouse. Her feet walked slowly along the dead grass path.
She slowly opened the door and took a step in.
She froze.
The porch light was just bright enough to cast a soft glow into the small room.
There was someone inside!
Barbara took a step back to run back towards the house when the figure turned around.
She relaxed.
It was just a little boy. Well, maybe not a little boy, but he was just kind of . . . small and at this moment he look terrified.
"Uh . . . hi. Can I help you?"
The boy still looked scared and didn't say a word.
Barbara bit her lip as she stared at him. She couldn't remember seeing him around the neighborhood, but maybe he didn't play outside much.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry." The boy sputtered out. "I didn't realized that someone lived here."
She had to smile.
"I don't live here silly. It's just a playhouse. Well, it's just a storage shed now. My dad built it for me." Barbara amended.
Not that he had anytime to play with her now.
She shook her head to erase the thought.
"So uh . . ."
The boy blinked his blue eyes as he continued to look scared.
"It's okay. You're not in trouble or anything." She said trying to calm him down. "You shouldn't be out so late. You should go back home."
If anything, he acted like her speech had made him feel worse.
"I . . . I don't have a home."
Barbara blinked.
"Sure you do. Wherever your parents are."
"I don't have parents anymore."
Barbara felt her heart stop.
"I'm sorry." She said softly.
The boy didn't say anything as he ran a hand through his short black hair.
It looked to Barbara that it had been recently cut.
"How long ago did it happen?" She dared to ask.
"Two weeks or something." He mumbled.
There was nothing for her to say to that.
"Well where are you staying now? I bet I could ask my dad to take you bac . . ."
"I don't want to go back!" The boy said fiercely to Barbara's surprise.
"Okay. It's okay." She said walking closer to him. He took a few steps back.
"What's your name?"
The boy didn't say anything at first.
"Dick."
"Dick. Okay." She said calmly. She was hoping for a last name.
She came to stand in front of him.
His blue eyes watched her carefully.
He was kind of small, but maybe not as little as she had thought.
"Do . . . are you from around here?" Staring at him closer there was just something almost . . . exotic about him.
He shook his head.
She could only imagine how hard this all must be for him.
"Okay, well maybe we should go to where you are staying and . . ."
"They wouldn't take me back. H . . . they don't want me."
"I don't understand. Were you adopted?"
The boy looked uncertain, but then nodded.
Barbara wrinkled her nose.
"You're lucky it happened that fast. Usually, with all the paperwork and agencies involved it can sometimes take a long time for a child to be adopted—especially in this
town."
"How do you know that?"
"My dad's a cop. I know all sort of odd laws and stuff."
"I'm sorry. I'll go." Dick said quickly.
She watched him grab a small bag from the other side of the room.
"Wait! Where are you going?" She grabbed his arm.
He shrugged.
"You can't just wander around. You can . . ." She looked around. "You can stay here tonight."
His eyes grew slightly wide.
"I can?"
"Yeah. Yeah, you can. It's not the best place in the world, but I can grab you a blanket or a sleeping bag or something." She offered.
If she let him stay here for the night, maybe she could find out more about him and figure out what to do.
"Are you going to tell someone I'm here?" He asked cautiously.
"Well, I guess not." Barbara told him. She didn't want him to get scared and run off.
He nodded and mumbled a thank you.
"All right. I'll get you a sleeping bag and a flashlight so that you will at least have some light out here . . ."
"Alone?" Dick said quickly.
Barbara saw a look of fear return to his eyes.
"Do you not like the dark?"
"No, I just . . . don't want to be alone."
Barbara had to resist the urge to hug him. He said it so sadly.
"Well, I guess I can stay out here too. I'll be right back. Don't leave okay?"
The boy nodded and Barbara hurried back to the house.
Dick released the breath of air he had been holding.
The girl had seemed nice. He didn't get her name though.
He hoped that she really wouldn't tell anyone. Not that anyone was going to look for him.
Barbara quietly shut the back door as she reentered her house. Just her father was in the kitchen now staring at papers for work.
"Hey Dad?" She asked.
He look up at her tiredly.
"Hey, Barb. What do you need?"
"Can I sleep out in the playhouse tonight?"
"What? Oh, I guess so. You haven't done that in a while. Just make sure you bring a flashlight okay? Do you need me to get down the sleeping bags?"
"I can reach them." She muttered. She paused before leaving the room. She sort of felt like she should tell him about the boy, but she had told Dick that she wouldn't
tell anyone. She would try to figure this out by herself and not bother her dad with it. He had enough on his plate.
She went to the garage and dug out two sleeping bags from a pile of camping stuff. It wasn't like her family was going to go camping anytime soon . . . ever.
She grabbed them down and dragged them through the house. She wondered where her mother had gotten off to.
She walked past her dad who didn't even bother to look up at her.
Barbara was a bit nervous when she got back to the playhouse, but she was relieved when she opened the door and Dick was still there.
He was now sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up against his chest.
"What's your name?"
"Barbara." She answered as she clicked the flashlight on.
He watched her lay out the sleeping bags.
Dick stayed very quiet, but she could feel his eyes on her.
"Do you need a drink or something?" She offered.
He nodded and she pulled out a water bottle out if the stuff that she had brought.
He took a long drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"Here, sit down." She said patting the sleeping blanket.
Dick crawled off the couch and sat down. He pulled off his shoes and placed them off to one side.
Barbara gasped.
His feet were covered in blisters.
"Your feet!" She exclaimed looking them over. "You aren't wearing socks!"
"The shoes are new." He said softly.
She carefully touched his feet.
"Wait here." She ordered.
She left the building again.
Dick smiled at the tender way she had looked at his feet. To be honest, he didn't realize how far he had walked or how much his feet hurt.
The door opened again and Barbara reappeared.
"Hold out your feet. This will hurt a bit at first."
She held out a bottle of ointment and poured it over his feet.
"Ouch!" It burned and Dick pulled his feet back.
"Here, just wait." Barbara held onto his arm and the stinging wore off. She gently wrapped both of his feet up in some cloth.
"How far did you walk?"
"Uh, kind of far." Dick said sheepishly.
The girl shook her head.
"I can't believe it. Your poor feet."
Dick watched her as she stood back up.
He could see her better in the light from the flashlight.
She had long red hair and . . . maybe green eyes?
"Thanks." He said quietly.
The last person who ever wrapped his feet was his mom after he had scraped them up badly.
"Well we both should get some sleep now. Hopefully, my dad won't come out to check on me since he's busy with work. I've already told him goodnight."
Dick nodded and crawled into the sleeping bag.
Barbara did the same.
Dick laid his head against the pillow and tried to close his eyes. He shifted.
"The floor is really flat."
Dick nodded in the dark.
"I'm used to it." He told her.
It was true. When his family didn't sleep in their trailer; they usually would just sleep on the floor somewhere.
He glanced up at the ceiling.
He would do anything to see them again.
"He isn't anywhere."
Alfred barely concealed the panic in his voice.
Bruce shifted uncomfortably as he looked around the boy's room.
Everything looked to be in order.
The bed was made and there were no clothes on the floor. Dick's shoes were gone and he didn't take his brand new cellphone.
Bruce picked it up and turned it over. It wasn't like the boy had anyone to call even.
Opening the drawers, the clothes were still neatly folded from when Alfred had put them in there.
In the top drawer on the left hand side was the bit of money that Bruce had given him.
Shutting the drawer, Bruce stared at the bed again.
"He isn't lost. He left."
The color drained from Alfred's face.
"Why do you say that?"
"The picture of his parents is gone."
"We have to find him. You have to call the police." Alfred ordered.
"We don't need to . . ." Bruce stopped when he saw Alfred's expression.
"What am I supposed to say?" Bruce charged.
"That the boy is somehow left and ended up lost and I suggest that you call them now. He's been gone practically the entire day. Who knows where he will end up; he
knows nothing about this town."
"I'll start looking for him myself." Bruce offered up. The boy couldn't have gotten too far.
"I just don't understand . . ." Alfred trailed off. "We weren't paying enough attention to him." He said quietly instantly diagnosing the problem.
"We gave him as much attention as we could. I am in the process of trying to track the person who is responsible for his parent's death."
"And that is important." Alfred conceded. "But maybe we should have put the boy first—even over his parent's murderer."
Bruce said nothing to this.
It was true that the thought of catching the man responsible had been more prevalent in his mind than spending time with the boy, but he figured that Dick would need
some space for a while and would be content to stay inside the manor.
Bruce had gone to great lengths to make sure that anything the boy could have possibly needed was at his fingertips.
Where did that boy think he was going?
Worry started to build up in Bruce's chest as he headed down to the batcave.
Barbara opened up her eyes and turned around to stare at the boy lying a few feet away from her.
Who was he really? Where was he from? Where was he supposed to be?
His eyes fluttered opened and caused her to pull back a bit.
"Good morning. How did you sleep?"
He gave her a shrug and rubbed the back of his head.
To be honest, her neck hurt.
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, a bit." He replied.
"Wait here then." She said as she stood up.
Dick sat up fully and blinked into the bright sunlight.
He actually had slept well for the first time in a long time. He had woken up twice, but this time not from nightmares.
Barbara had stayed there throughout the whole night. She would never know how much her presence had helped.
There was two sharp raps on the door.
Dick froze not quite sure what to do.
It opened slowly and Barbara stuck her head in.
"That can be our secret knock. If someone just opens the door then you know it's not me."
She handed him a yellow cereal bowl filled to the brim with milk and flakes.
He took it with thanks.
She sat down next to him and dug into her own bowl.
Dick plunged his spoon in and scooped up some flakes into his mouth.
He paused for a moment in chewing and made a face.
"Do you not like raisins?" She asked fearfully.
Dick shook his head. He shouldn't be picky. She was feeding him and that was all that mattered.
"No, I just bit my tongue." He lied as he ate another spoonful.
He got the feeling that she didn't believe him.
When he was finished, he wiped his mouth using his arm.
She let out a giggle.
"My dad always does that. It drives my mom . . . it drives her nuts."
The smile slipped from Barbara's face as she stared back down into her bowl.
"It's just a bad habit. Alf . . . I mean, I was supposed to try and stop doing it."
Barbara set her bowl down and stared at him.
"How are your feet?"
"They're okay. My feet are pretty tough." Dick explained. They had to be after all these years.
"Maybe we should soak them or something." She said thoughtfully.
"Really it's okay. Don't go to all that trouble." Dick urged.
Barbara glanced around the small playhouse.
"Maybe I can get you some more room in here. It's awfully crowded with all these boxes."
"It's okay. I'll be leaving soon anyway."
Her head snapped back to him.
"Leaving for where?"
Dick shrugged.
"Aren't . . . aren't they looking for you?"
He shook his head.
"They don't want me." He repeated.
"But they adopted you." Barbara pointed out. Who adopted a kid they didn't actually want?
"What makes you think that they don't want you?"
"H . . . they never pay attention to me. They are never there. They just expect me to wander around by myself. They only look for me at lunchtime and stuff. Other
than that, they don't care."
"Do they have other children?"
Dick almost looked amused at this.
"No. Just me."
Barbara was confused.
So a couple with no children adopted a child and then ignored him.
"Do they have jobs?"
Dick nodded.
"Well I'm sure that they are trying hard. I mean, both my parents work and they don't have too much time for me."
"It's not like that." He said abruptly.
"Well, just stay here for now." Barbara begged. She had to try and help him figure something out.
"Are you sure?" He asked carefully.
Barbara nodded.
"You'll be safe here and no one should find you here. We can figure something out maybe. Today we can try to make some space for you."
Dick nodded shyly and tried to give her a smile.
"Thanks."
Barbara gave him a grin and stood up as she collected their bowls.
"Well then. I guess we have a busy day in front of us."
They weren't going to be able to make too much more space, but even a little might be nice for the boy.
She had to figure out how to help him, but first she needed to know more.
"Let's start moving some of these boxes. I know that they can be stacked better."
For being a small kid, Dick turned out to be quite strong, maybe even stronger than she was. He seemed to be able to lift things with ease.
Barbara plopped down on the couch after a few hours had passed.
Dick paused for a moment to take a drink of the water she had brought.
"So are we . . ."
"Barb? Are you out here?"
Both their eyes grew wide at the sound of the voice.
Barbara flew up and opened the lid to the toy trunk that they had just unearthed at the bottom of the pile.
"Get in." She urged.
Dick ran over and tried to fit himself in. It was a tight fit.
"Barb?" Her father opened the door.
"Dad, hey." She said lamely.
"What are you doing?"
"Just making some space. I forgot how nice it was out here, so I am trying to make more room."
Lying to him made her feel really badly.
"I can see that. Look at all this stuff. It just piles up after a while." He stopped to stare around at the boxes.
"I'm not getting rid of anything. I'm just trying to organize it better." She explained quickly.
"Okay, well, I'm off for the day. Take care."
"Okay. You too." She added as she gave him a hug.
He gave her a quick squeeze and let her go.
She watched him walk off and she shut the door.
Dick slowly opened the trunk lid.
"We're clear." Barbara told him.
"He sounded nice." Dick told her.
Barbara gave a smile.
"Yeah, he's the best dad ever." She said firmly.
Dick rested his chin on the side of the trunk.
"What is all this stuff in here?" He asked.
Barbara walked over and pulled some pages out of the trunk.
"Just looks like stuff I colored for my parents." She said as she sifted through the pages.
"Is this them?" Dick asked her as he picked out a photograph from the pile.
Barbara paused to take in the picture of her parents smiling in the photograph.
She nodded.
"You must get your pretty hair from your mother then." He noted.
Barbara paused for a moment and tried not to blush.
"Well, I don't know about that." She dismissed.
"You didn't get it from your mother?"
"No I mean that it's pretty." She said shortly.
"Oh." He said after a moment. "I think that it is."
Barbara cleared her throat.
"Well, let's keep going okay or your new home won't be ready before nightfall again."
Dick turned and gave her a half smile at this statement.
A home? Could he really ever have one here in a run down playhouse?
Maybe he could try.
As long as Barbara would let him stay, he would.
Maybe he could even find some way to repay her for her kindness.
She had been the first person to really care.
Maybe they could even be friends.
He glanced over at her and set the box he was carrying down.
Maybe it could all work out, maybe it could all be okay, maybe just maybe . . .
Random End Notes:First of many chapters to come. Let me know what you think!
{Dick/Babs because, HELLO! They are perfect for each other!}
All right you know the drill. Advice, and (gentle) [be nice please! :}] criticism, would be appreciated. Or a haiku if you feel like one.