Dick couldn't sneak out. It was a growing itch inside him that he couldn't do anything with. He was stuck, unable to leave his chair as the man who killed his parents walked free.

Dick had no doubt that if he could walk, he would have already hunted the man down and made him pay. Instead, he was sitting in a room too large and plush to be his. He worried about dirtying everything he touched.

"I hate this," he said. It didn't help to ease the swirling pain in his chest. The only light came from his desk lamp.

Dick looked out the window at the forest surrounding Bruce Wayne's property.

"I suppose he expects me to be thankful or something," he grumbled. Everyone said it. Dick was the poor, disabled orphan Bruce Wayne lowered himself to caring for. Not that Dick saw Bruce a lot.

He rammed his chair back into the wall, smashed a few books and papers to the ground and pounded the chair with his fists. Guilt stung in his chest at the thought of how Alfred would have to pick things up from the floor but it didn't manage to drown out the swirling pain. It was just another reminder of something Dick himself couldn't do.

"Master Richard?" Alfred's voice was accented and concerned. Whether it was for him or because of him, Dick didn't know.

"Get out," Dick responded, wheeling his chair around.

Alfred didn't seem to listen, walking further into the dark room. Dick hadn't noticed how dark it was until he realised he couldn't see much besides Alfred's outline.

"Are you okay? You've made quite the mess."

"I'm trapped here," Dick admitted, unable to bring himself to lie about how he felt. Alfred didn't responded so Dick wheeled his chair around. "I can't go anywhere and I can't do anything-"

"I assure you, Master Richard, there's plenty you can still do."

"I can't get the man who killed my parents!" Dick bellowed back, a couple of traitorous tears running down his cheeks. "I can't go into the city because, not only am I a target being immobilised like this, but this chair and my appearance are recognisable! What am I supposed to do? Rot away in this mansion like your 'Master Wayne'?"

Alfred was silent as Dick attempted to catch his breath.

"That is up to you."

Up to him? He had no choices!

Dick grit his teeth and ordered Alfred out of his room. The old butler obeyed but not before commenting that he would be back in a few hours to help Dick move from the chair as it wasn't recommended that he spend hours sitting in it without moving. Dick was well aware of the complications which could arise from not being able to move. Bodies weren't made to stay still.

Graysons weren't made to stay still. Dick wheeled his chair out of his room and down the hall where there was an elevator installed. It had an appearance like a black metal box. He had to strain a little to reach the control panel since the elevator had originally been there for the servants. Bruce had told him that he was glad it could be used to give Dick free reign of the manor.

The number of buttons on the control panel were intimidating, mostly because Dick didn't know what they were for. There were floor numbers, but a number of blank buttons after the basement button. There was a button for emergency stop and start.

Finally, there was a call button. Dick pressed it.

"Alfred? Is there a problem?"

"Bruce? Um... is your throat okay? Your voice sounds-"

"Dick!" Bruce's voice instantly went light. It lost the gravelly tone to it and left Dick wondering if the quality of the elevator speaks had garbled it. "Are you okay? Why are you calling?"

"I was just checking out the elevator. There are a lot of buttons."

"Yeah, they come like that," Bruce responded lightly. "Look, there's a lovely lady here and I shouldn't keep her waiting."

Dick physically sunk back in his chair as a wave of homesickness hit him. He missed the circus. He missed his family.

"Yeah," he sighed, pressing the button again which seemed to hang up the phone.

Miles from Wayne Manor, Batman leapt down into the alleyway where one of his informants was waiting. She flicked a cigarette to the ground and stomped on it and he demanded to know where Zucco was holed up.

Dick needed a plan. He had only seen Batman once while in the hospital. Gotham's Dark Night had dropped into his room from the window and questioned him on what he had seen the night his family fell.

Dick gave him a description of a man he had seen arguing with Haly. Batman let slip that it sounded like a man named Tony Zucco.

Then Batman was gone and Dick hadn't seen him since.

Shortly after arriving at the manor, Bruce had gifted him with a computer. Alfred had taken a little time to show Dick how it worked.

It had the internet. While it was probably not something to allow a nine year old access to without monitoring, Dick quickly learnt more than the average nine year old. It helped that he kept in contact with Barbara since she knew a lot about computers.

Dick tried to wheel his chair into the kitchen quietly however it seemed Alfred always knew when he entered the room. The butler looked up.

"What can I do for you, Master Dick?"

The words made uncomfortable darkness churn in Dick's gut. He looked up at the ceiling instead of the floor, at the places he knew how to reach in his head but his body physically couldn't reach. The mental distraction of calculating how to get up was better than looking at his legs and staring at the reason he couldn't get up.

He reminded himself why he was there and focused on that.

"Can I visit Barbara?" he asked.

"Of course," Alfred said. At those words, Dick grinned and his heart floated. It helped him ignore the uncomfortable feeling. "As long as it is alright with Commissioner Gordon."

That was to be expected. Dick recalled his mother saying something similar when he used to ask to go see the animals. They sometimes had to check with the trainers.

Barbara was cool. It was difficult to believe they were the same age. She showed him a lot of tricks on the computer and they ended the afternoon by playing games together. For a while, Dick could forget that he wasn't able to walk like she could.

As soon as Dick returned to the manor, he retired to his room. Alfred tried to talk to him but he used the excuse of being tired to escape. He didn't know where Bruce was, he guessed he was either at his office in Gotham City or his office in the manner. It didn't really matter.

Dick got on the computer and checked out a few of the social media sites. Barbara told him that they weren't allowed to join them until they were older so her dad had explained to her.

Dick didn't let that stop him. He made a few accounts, nothing under his real name, and started poking around. There was a hashtag about Batman sightings and about known criminal sightings, mostly the ones who dressed up in costumes. Dick could put all those sightings on a map and put a time and date on them. A night in Gotham, colour coded and splayed out in a way that he could take it in with a glance. It was kind of cool.

Curious, Dick looked for information on Tony Zucco. He was able to find a picture some guy had taken while out with him. Zucco didn't look happy about being photographed but Dick suspected that was because he was a wanted criminal with Batman hunting him down.

He quickly turned the computer off when it was close to dinner time. He spent the evening trying to decide what to do with the realisation that he wasn't as cut off from the world as he believed.