Hey guys! I wrote this forever ago, but it's not bad so I figured I'd just post it…there a few chapters pre-written which I'll probably post just for the kicks, but after that…well who knows? Tell me if you enjoy and I'll try to upload the next one a bit faster than my usual three month gaps! (Sorry…)

Richard John Grayson had been suspicious of his new father figure for a while. Bruce Wayne, multi-billionaire and one of the richest men in the world was hiding something, and this nine year old was determined to figure out what. His…circumstances had forced the business man to make the young acrobat his ward nearly half a year ago, but unluckily for Bruce Wayne, Richard, or Dick as he was known, was a really smart kid. Smart enough to notice Bruce disappearing nearly every night even after a full day's meetings, and coming back in the mornings with multiple minor injuries. And at nine years old he was of the right age to be curious enough, daring enough and possibly fool-hardy enough to be willing to do anything to uncover a secret.

So, this left Dick lying awake in bed one long night, half avoiding his nightmares and half plotting a way to uncover the secrets of the mysterious billionaire. He was on as wide alert as he could be for a nine year old up way past his bedtime. A click sounded down the hallway, followed by an almost silent whooshing noise. It was coming from…Bruce's office? Huh, figures, that was the only room in the entire mansion Dick was completely forbidden from entering, the only room that was ever locked. So, it was obviously the room he was most interested in.

Dick's eyes were closing sleepily, but he promised himself he'd find a way into that office in the morning. Wait, shoot! He had to go to school in the morning, he'd never have time to break into the office. Dick stifled a groan. Great, looks like if he wanted to know…whatever the secret was, he'd have to do something about it tonight.

Heavy steps thudded down the hallway, and paused outside his room. Dick rolled over and closed his eyes as his door opened slowly. He slowed his breathing until it sounded like he was asleep, a trick he'd always used to avoid being caught sneaking out with his friends from the circus when his mum came in to check on him. His breathing almost hitched at the though of his mother, but luckily for him Bruce sighed at that exact moment from the hallway. "Goodnight Dick." Even though he felt guilty for deceiving his benefactor and not replying, Dick wasn't that sappy. Sometimes, to find the truth, you had to lie a little. Or a lot. Whatever.

He listened until he heard all of the noises from Bruce's room stop as the man fell asleep. Then he waited some more until he judged about ten or twenty minutes had passed, enough time for the utterly exhausted man to fall into a deep sleep. Hey, he didn't want to fall at the first hurdle because he couldn't wait a few minutes. He wasn't eight after all.

As silently as he could he lifted one foot, and then the other, out of bed and onto the wooden floor of his room. He had lived in Wayne manor long enough to know which floorboards creaked and which doors squeaked loud enough to wake the dead, so he took great pains to avoid all of them. He padded silently towards the bedroom door and inched it open slowly. Dick consoled himself with the fact that if he was caught he could say he was up for a glass of water, even though that was pretty implausible due to the set of hairpins and paperclips in his hand. Well, he and the other boys from his circus had to have some fun after all, and Dick had always been the best at unlocking doors with his 'lock picks'. Hopefully he'd retained his skills in this new pampered life.

He crept down the shadowy hall, the lock picks digging into his palm as he clutched them far too tightly. Wayne Manor had always been a creepy old house, but in the middle of the night when he was doing something expressly forbidden? Let's just say his over-active imagination wasn't doing him any favours. After what felt like forever of tip-toeing down towards the office he finally reached the door. Casting a worried glance down the length of the hallway, he inserted his homemade picks into the lock and jiggled them around. A clicking noise echoed quietly from the lock. Smirking vampirically he turned his picks and the door swung open. Obviously Bruce hadn't been expecting his ward to have such secret naughty talents.

He took one last look at the closed door of Bruce's room before stepping into the forbidden room and closing the doors. No need to be even more obvious than he already was, right? Dick gazed around the forbidden room, slightly puzzled when all he saw was an ordinary study. Why hadn't he been allowed in here? He was nine years old after all, it's not like he was eight and was going to break anything.

C'mon, there had to be a reason other than boring old work that kept Bruce awake until three in the morning. How lame would that be? Totally not worth the risk he was taking. Then again, Bruce did take his work far too seriously in Dick's opinion, the man was a workaholic! All work and no play. But that theory didn't explain Bruce's mysterious injuries that appeared most mornings. There had to be something in here that explained them, something he wasn't meant to find. Why else would such a boring room be so strictly forbidden?

Dick slowly padded around the room, not wanting to miss any clues. He imagined he was Batman, the world's greatest detective, out on a case and hunting for leads. He rifled through the draws in the big old wooden desk, but all that was in there was some boring work papers and tech prototypes that he'd already seen. Unfortunately, there was no book labelled 'My Big Secret' in the desk, or on the bookcase either.

Next stop, the big old grandfather clock. Dick opened the case, but there was only a large golden pendulum swinging back and forth, nothing hidden in there. Something was off about the clock though. He took a step back and examined the clock more closely. Suddenly, it clicked! The pendulum was moving, but the clock hands weren't. Forcing down a cackle at his discovery, Dick allowed himself a little celebratory grin. Finally, he was onto something.

His smile faded as he looked at the clock face, completely stumped. A broken clock wasn't any big secret, nor was it enough to forbid Dick from the office. He um'd and ah'd with his hands on his hips for a good few minutes. A broken clock wasn't that special…The clock must mean something then!

Maybe…maybe the hands acted like a password or something? Like on the old safe Mr Haley had kept in his office at the circus, maybe the clock hands acted like a dial? Fingers shaking in excitement, he reached up on his tiptoes and began to spin the clock hands. A few minutes passed, and Dick was becoming more and more frustrated. He was right, he was sure of it, but this was taking far too long. He didn't have time to try every possibility on the entire clock. Think Dick, think! He recalled Mr Haley's password had been the date of the day he had set up the circus…so, people used numbers that they wouldn't forget easily, numbers that meant something to them. With renewed excitement Dick ran through all of the numbers he knew meant something to Bruce. Alfred's date of birth, Bruce's date of birth, the day Bruce's parents had died, anything he could think of. But nothing worked.

Suddenly, a realisation struck him. This was a clock you idiot! That meant the password would probably be a time! Times, times, times… who on earth had a special time?!

Dick quickly raced through every conversation he had had with Bruce in the last half year. Something Bruce had told him after he'd had an awful nightmare about his own parents' death, something about how his parents had been murdered too? Something about he still remembered everything about that day, he even remembered the TIME of their death, down to the minute! C'mon, c'mon, he'd even told him…ten…ten…10:47! That was it! Without hesitating Dick spun the old clocks hands until they pointed to the correct time.

Yes! A quiet clicking noise sounded from behind Dick, and he slowly turned around towards what was obviously the origin of the whooshing noise he had heard earlier. The back of the fireplace was lifting up!

"Holy khul…" Dick's mouth dropped open in awe. (AN. Khul means shit in Romani…apparently)

He hadn't really considered what Bruce's secret was, but this was not what he had been expecting. A secret tunnel hidden behind a fireplace was definitely not normal. He'd kind of been expecting a secret girlfriend, an evil clone, maybe even just some hidden jewellery or something. But not this. Something seriously secret was going on here.

He crept towards the hole in the wall, almost afraid that something nefarious was going to jump out at him, but nothing did. It was most likely a rational fear, this was Gotham after all. He peered into the shadowy tunnel. Nothing. It was pitch black but he could tell from the freezing cold emanating from the tunnel that it led outside or deep underground.

He hesitated. Was he really going to jump into an unknown hole in the wall just to satisfy his overgrown curiosity? He could just see the obituary now. Richard John Grayson, son of two loving parents, ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne, dies aged nine because he jumped down a random hole to his death. What an idiot. But then again, if he didn't take chances, how was he going to find out anything at all? It's not like Bruce was going to tell him his biggest secret just because he asked politely, was he?

He crossed his heart in prayer like his mother had taught him many years ago as he swung his legs into the hole. Rolling his bright blue eyes at his own sheer stupidity, he took one last look into the office.

"Bruce, if I survive this, you're going to have some serious explaining to do." he whispered.

Closing his eyes, he jumped.

(*I*I*I*)

Dick shot through the darkness. The tunnel was wide and smooth, and judging by the lack of dust, well used. He jittered with excitement, this was a better secret than he could've ever dreamed of! Secret tunnels were so cool!

How awesome was it that his new father figure, or whatever Bruce was to him, had hidden tunnels under his house! This was the best surprise a nine year old could ask for.

Suddenly, he ran out of tunnel. He flailed for a minute in surprise as he shot through the air before his lifetime of acrobat training kicked in, and he executed a flawless flip before landing perfectly on his feet. Bending over he put his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths to calm his panicked breathing, something Bruce had taught him to deal with panic attacks. After all, who wouldn't be a little freaked out after discovering hidden tunnels that led deep underground and came out…where was he exactly?

Looking up, Dick almost had another panic attack from shock. He'd been a Gothamite for nearly half a year now, and like every kid he idolised the mysterious rumours of Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, the mortal man who protected the most dangerous city in the world. Holy crap, he knew where he was. He just couldn't quite believe it. If he hadn't been so young he would've sworn quite impressively, but with his nine year olds vocabulary he could only gaze around in shock and utter awe.

He was in the Batcave!

Dick took a tiny step forward, hesitant all of a sudden. Blocking his panicked thoughts from his mind…oh god, I'm so dead if he catches me…he took a second to look around. After all, this was every Gothamite's dream come true, and he didn't mean to waste it. An enormous penny gleamed in the distance, and a giant T-Rex towered high up in the shadows, its sharp teeth shining dangerously. A giant Joker card swung in a slight breeze as it hung suspended by gossamer thin wires from the ceiling, but that wasn't what caught Dick's attention the most. He ignored the med bay, the training room and even the zeta beam, not that he recognised the teleporter for what it was. Sticking to the shadows he crept across the cave, pausing every couple of steps to glance around fearfully, until he reached his goal.

The Batmobile sat in its own corner of the cave. Tentatively, Dick touched a single finger to the gorgeous black paint. When no alarms blared or sirens whirred, he placed his entire palm on the car's fin and stroked it adoringly. Hell, you can't fault the kid, it was the freaking Batmobile! A wild giggle broke past his lips, and he couldn't stifle it or hold it in. It was a laugh of pure joy, mixed in with a heavy dose of shock. He was in the Batcave, touching the Batmobile!

His face snapped from bliss to puzzlement and a growing sense of realisation as a thought crossed his mind.

Why is the Batcave under my house?

Something span past his head with dizzying speed and embedded itself in the wall above the Batmobile. It had passed so close to Dick's head that sent a breeze through his shaggy black hair. He froze, heart thundering away in his chest. Taking his shaking hands off the Batmobile and letting them dangle at his sides, Dick slowly raised his cerulean eyes to look up at the wall right next to his head. The object stuck in the wall, the object that could've just beheaded him, was a batarang.

Holy crap, he was in so much trouble.

A low growl sounded from behind him. "Put you hands on your head, slowly, and turn around." came the barked order. "No funny business, or else."

Shaking so hard he was in danger of falling over, Dick raised his hands until they were laced together behind his head, and shuffled around slowly. He gazed at the floor, utterly terrified. First of all, this was Batman. Like, The Batman. It had to be, who else used batarangs? And second of all, he was seriously annoyed. At him. The world's scariest hero was infuriated at him. Dick gulped. Holy khul.

Batman's eyes narrowed beneath his mask. Seriously, this guy was way too scary for it to be natural. He must have like, evil glare training or something. "Hmph, you're just a kid. Wayne's new brat, should've known. Thinking of stealing anything?"

Dick was so scared he could barely think, let alone spit out an articulate sentence. He settled for shaking his head vigorously.

"What are you, mute? I will not tolerate people wandering into my cave. What are you doing here?"

Dick's blue eyes travelled up from the steel capped boots, past the world famous utility belt and up to the hooded face of Batman. He took in all of the aspects of the man's face. Chiselled jaw. Check. Disapproving frown. Check. If he took into consideration the fact that the Batcave was under Wayne Manor and the physical similarities then…

Dick's hands dropped from behind his head in shock. "Oh my god, Batman is Bruce! Oh my god," he repeated like a broken record, "Oh my god. Bruce…you're Batman?"

"And what makes you think that?" Batman put away his batarangs and turned to leave without waiting for an answer. "I'm not some ridiculous playboy billionaire. Look, I don't care how you got down here, I'll just look at the security footage and check, just get out and don't come back. Ever. Or you'll have more than kidnapping attempts and ransom demands to worry about."

Dick ran after Batman and tugged on his cape, making the hero stop and turn to glare at him. Dick quailed under the fierceness of the dreaded Bat glare but he refused to give up.

"C'mon Bruce, how stupid do you think I am? You forbid me from your office, you're never around when the criminals break out of Arkham, you turn up to breakfast with injuries and you never go to sleep, you glare like Batman, you look like Batman and the Batcave is under your house? Seriously dude, you're just going to blow me off? I might be your ward and all, but I can still sell your ID to the papers. I know that you know that I know that you, Bruce Wayne, are Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham."

Batman growled quietly and increased the intensity of his stare. Hell, this kid was nine years old, surely he'd crack and run off soon.

Dick frowned, and mimicked Batman's growl with one of his own. Unfortunately, it came out like a kitten growling at a tiger, and it was more likely to make Batman smile than admit what he already knew. Seeing that Batman wasn't about to give in to some random kid, a 'rich brat' at that, he decided he had to prove it himself. Crouching slightly he leapt up, taking the Dark Knight by surprise as he flipped high over his head, grabbing his cowl on the way past and endeavouring to rip it from his head.

Dick landed on all fours, and gasped with shock as he saw that the cowl had come away in his hands. He'd only meant to show Batman that he was serious, that he wanted answers, but he hadn't expected the cowl to actually come off!

The older man turned and looked down at Dick, who was still crouched on the floor in shock. Oh for heavens sake, the kid was right, he might as well let him have his moment of glory.

Dick felt like doing a victory dance. Ha, he was right, Batman was Bruce! Or Bruce was Batman. Whatever. But damn, if Batman was scary, then Bruce pulling a Bat glare was down right terrifying! He could see the anger, annoyance, and… pride in his eyes?

Bruce ran a hand through his hair, frustrated that Alfred was right again. The old English butler had been telling him and telling him again and again and again that Dick was a smart kid; that he was going to find out his secret ID eventually. Still, he'd never in a million years thought Dick would manage to sneak into the Batcave, take him by surprise and be skilled enough to rip off his cowl, all by the tender age of nine. He had set off the alarms in the Batcave though, but improvements could always be made to his skills. No no no, what was he thinking? This was not a business for kids, even the adults made serious mistakes! For example, next time there were intruders in the cave, he should take the time to attach his own mask properly, instead of just ramming it on his face and rushing off to confront them. What if it had been a proper villain? Idiot. Now he was going to have to explain…well, everything, to Dick, his nine year old newly adopted son.

"Richard." The boy in question gulped. He was in so much trouble.

"Go to bed. It's late, and you've got school tomorrow. I'll…endeavour to explain the situation tomorrow night. But this is a secret, okay? It stays between you, Alfred and I. No matter what."

Dick's blue eyes shone. "AWESOME! I'll keep the secret, you can count on me! I'm living with The Batman…and I know his ID! That's like the best thing ever! Can I help on the next case? Please? C'mon, I'll be so useful…"

"No. It's too dangerous."

"Can I meet Superman?"

"No."

"The Flash?"

"No."

"Aw…fine. I suppose they're not as cool as Batman anyway." Dick skipped happily in front of Bruce, arms swinging and shocked giggles echoing around the usually solemn Batcave.

"Can I be your sidekick?"

"Didn't I just say that's too dangerous?" Batman sighed.

"Jeez Bruce, I'm not eight anymore y'know? C'mon, with my acrobatics I'd be a great hero! I'd like, swing from the rafters and totally nail the Joker, then swing away again! I wouldn't be in any danger! I promise! Please Bruce?"

"No."

"Why not?" Dick whinged.

Bruce knew a standard 'because I said so' would just frustrate the boy. "Because one, it's far too dangerous. No, don't try those puppy eyes on me, I mean it. In any other city, maybe there might be the slightest chance, but Gotham's just too….well, Gotham. It's the worst city in the world for a damn good reason. And two…" Bruce closed his eyes and imagined the hero community's faces if he turned up with a kid for a sidekick. "The rest of the heroes would obliterate me if I took you on as a partner. I might be Batman but between an angry Superman, Wonder Woman and who knows else acting like a bunch of mother hens, I wouldn't last a minute. Maybe ten seconds if I was really lucky."

"Aw." Dick looked downcast for a minute before changing his tact. "Well, since you're such a great fighter and everything, maybe you could teach me some self defence? I mean, I've already been ransomed once, and I've only been here half a year! And I'm good with computers, maybe I could help with tech stuff, like if you teach me hacking? I could help looking at footage, analyze clues, and I'd never have to leave the cave; I'd be in no danger at all!"

Bruce sighed. Damn, Dick was one stubborn kid. "I said, we'll talk about this tomorrow. It's three in the morning Dick, and you're nine years old. I might teach you some self defence, just so you can protect yourself, but that's it, okay? This is not a business for a child. Now go to bed." Bruce turned on his heel and began to walk out of the cave, striving to ignore Dick tugging on his cape.

"But Bruce…can't I look around the Batcave some more? Besides, I'm not tired at all." he said, trying to stifle a huge yawn.

Bruce rolled his eyes. Last resort time. "Alright, I'll cut you a deal. You go to bed right now, and I'll let you off school tomorrow." Bruce knew bribery wasn't the best parenting technique, but he wasn't exactly cut out to be a father. Hence the lack of biological kids. "Plus, I'll even let you spend the day in the Batcave, and I'll show you what some of my gadgets can do. But I mean it, go upstairs and go to sleep. I'm exhausted, and I can see that you are too."

Dick whooped and the joyful noise echoed around the cave. He pumped his fist in the air and cart wheeled along in front of Bruce, completely ecstatic. Jumping up he surprised Bruce by wrapping him in a huge hug, before bouncing away again.

Bruce rolled his eyes at Dick's behaviour but a small smile crossed his face when they left the cave. He wasn't going to actually let Dick deal with any criminals, he was just a kid after all, but maybe it would be nice to have another person around to cover for him, and deal with some administrative work. Also, it would cut his workload if he didn't have to spend his time hiding things from Dick. But he was absolutely, completely, definitely one hundred percent sure that Dick could never be allowed to go out on patrol with Batman. Nu uh. No way.

Dick was happier than he'd ever been in his life. He lived with Batman, and he was going to get to explore the Batcave tomorrow. Plus, he got to miss boring old school for a whole day! This literally couldn't get any better…unless… Dick smiled, he could see his change in tact was working. Once Bruce saw how ready and willing he was to learn, and hopefully how good he was at everything, he was sure he could beg, bully, persuade and cajole Batman into letting him help out with cleaning up Gotham's streets. He'd call himself…Robin, in honour of his mother. He'd always been her little robin, and now he'd be the bird of Gotham. If he could persuade Bruce anyway.

Yeah, Robin worked. Robin, the boy who flew.

Six moths later, Gotham had a new hero in town.

Dick never looked back.

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