Omg, you guys are terrific! Seriously, I was not expecting such an enthusiastic response! But you were all so kind, so eager for the next chapter, so here you go!
Also, for anybody who hasn't seen the movie but enjoys this story so far, I highly recommend it. It's on this Sunday on ABC family, at least for those in the U.S.
Disclaimer: By the way, just to clarify, I own nothing.
Fidgeting and fiddling. Two actions Dick was unusually despised. Yet here he stood, doing both at once, making himself more nervous by the second.
Stalling was another action, or lack thereof, he was particularly unhappy to be acquainted with. Under normal circumstances, Dick prided himself in being a generally straightforward person. Nevertheless, in instances out of the ordinary such as this one, perhaps a slight change in character was not unwarranted.
To tell Bruce or not to tell—well, it wasn't so much of a question, as much as a delicate dilemma. Whatever the solution was, agonizing wasn't the answer. He would have to do something soon.
If need be, Dick could've just smuggled Superboy in and out and Bruce would have been none the wiser. There was no chance of him visiting that assumedly empty room at night, and he would probably be gone for work before the rest of them awoke tomorrow morning.
The only reason Dick was bothering to be up front was because he hated lying to his adopted father. (Goody-twoshoes, Wally would mock). Wayne's trust was a tough thing to gain, but Dick owned a decent percentage of that overall trust in humanity.
Despite being an adolescent by nature, he dreaded the day he'd betray that trust.
Tim, the little sneak he was, wouldn't actually tip Bruce off if Dick asked in earnest. And Alfred, well, Alfred was as loyal as they came. However, the butler wouldn't rat them out until Superboy was safely escorted off the premises. He had a soft spot for pitiful-looking children (Dick knew from experience).
Taking a deep breath, Dick threw caution to the wind and slipped inside the study before he could convince himself otherwise.
"Hi, Dick," Bruce greeted pleasantly, scribbling something down on an official-looking document. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Oh, yeah. It was sort of a school night.
"Yeah, I'm on my way there," he explained. "But before I do...I thought you might want to know..."
Ripping off the band-aid, Dick got it all out in one go—better to brief when confronting the boss over tender subjects, Lucius Fox had told him during a visit so long ago he had been handed a lollipop upon arrival.
Expecting a nuclear explosion—or implosion, knowing Bruce—Dick awaited a response.
Setting down his pen, Bruce raised two index fingers to his temples in correspondence to an oncoming headache. "What were you thinking?" he sighed exasperatedly, like an owner scolding his new puppy.
Immediately, Dick went into defensive mode.
"I was thinking, 'Huh, this kid has nowhere to go on a chilly November night. Perhaps I should do a decent thing and rent one of the many superfluous rooms going to waste in our stately manor.'"
"It wasn't your call," was the blunt, completely irrefutable reply. He nearly faltered.
"I probably should have consulted you first," conceded Dick. "It was an impulsive, split-second decision, okay? But I don't regret it a bit."
"How well do you even know this boy?"
"Enough to know he's not a threat."
A dark eyebrow rose. "What makes you so firm?"
"My gut."
Again, another sigh; deep and exhaled through the nostrils. Now, Dick decided, if ever, was the time to try his luck and present his case to the best of his ability. For Superboy's sake.
"Please, Bruce. He needs a place to stay for the night; just one, measly night! Can't we spare some non-public charity this once? Provide a young man with a roof over his head?"
"Isn't that his parents' job?" Bruce demanded.
"He doesn't have any." Of that, Dick was ninety-seven percent certain. And even if Superboy did, they were obviously the crappy kind that didn't deserve kids. So no, other family members were not an option.
"Which I can relate to quite personally," he added for resonance.
Bruce pierced him with the sharpest look possible. "We're not discussing you, Richard."
Use of the full first name: the classic parental warning sign. Still, Dick refused to be intimidated away from the argument. Wasn't it Bruce who always taught him to stand his ground?
"Maybe not, but let's face it. He is me. I mean, he's what could have been me. If it wasn't for you, I might be in a similar situation right now."
A shadow fell across his guardian's expression, and Dick almost felt guilty for putting it there. Almost.
Bruce's statement was quiet and final. "You aren't."
Dick swallowed thickly. "But I could have."
A fact which haunted them both.
It was a rare vision to see a glimpse past the rough exterior that comprised Bruce's personality. Sure, he was civil to fellow socialites and charming to the public, but it was all a well-rehearsed act. Truthfully, his adopted father was a closed book on a shelf that refused to see visitors.
Unless you were Dick Grayson, the orphaned boy with a big heart, who had somehow managed to crack the twelve-foot ice surrounding the billionaire playboy's facade. Then you had the chance to his view softer side more than most others.
"Do you really believe he poses no threat whatsoever?" asked Bruce exhaustively.
"Yes," recited Dick. Whoever Superboy may be, he wasn't a bad person. After an eternity of stabilizing seconds, his guardian nodded.
"One night," Bruce approved. It was slim victory, a grudging victory, but a win nonetheless. Dick mentally cheered.
"Thanks a bunch, Bruce," he said graciously. "I swear he won't be any trouble!"
Bruce merely hummed under his breath, expressing certain doubts over that exclamation. Unwilling to stick around long enough for him to change his mind, Dick said a quick goodnight before bidding his father adieu.
He slept less than soundly that night, but at least it wasn't due to a suffering conscience.
The next morning, Dick awoke in his normal fashion. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes as his bare feet touched the floor, he was only groggily aware of his surroundings, when the recent events of last night came back to him. He hurriedly made himself presentable in order to rush downstairs.
When Dick arrived, it was the oddest sight that met him: bulky Superboy sitting next to a giddy Tim, who was happily chattering away to the less-than-thrilled teenager.
"Um, morning?" He nodded towards their guest, "I see you're awake."
"He was trying to sneak away unnoticed," Tim tattled.
Dick frowned. "Why?"
Looking away, Superboy sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled something like, "Didn't wanna be a bother."
Tim went on unabashedly, "But Wayne Manor is so huge that he didn't know where he was going! I heard him wandering around and told him to stay for breakfast."
It took a lot of self-control to keep from outright snickering. Superboy was staring at the pint-sized cereal muncher as though he had never seen anything quite like him before. In spite of himself, Dick was unable to prevent a very amused smirk.
"Well, it is the most important meal of the day," he reasoned.
"Glad to see my teachings have finally sunk in, Master Dick," said Alfred as he entered the dining room, carrying two hearty plates of eggs, bacon, and grapefruit. He placed one in front of Dick and the other in front of their guest. "Tuck in, boys."
They ate in a relatively comfortable atmosphere, which surprised Dick, seeing as though Superboy had only stayed for one evening in total. But it felt almost normal sitting there all together, even with Bruce's work-related absence. Unfortunately, like many good things in life, their time together was ruined by school.
"I believe we should prepare to leave," declared Alfred, proceeding to check the clock. "Lest you three be tardy, and considering the mood Master Bruce is in, that may not be in everyone's best interest. Especially you, Master Dick."
Flushing, Dick tried to chuckle away the warning, even though it was dreadfully accurate. Tim shot him a look that mocked "Ha, you're on thin ice" while Superboy appeared apologetic.
Reading the signs of blame, Dick touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, not your fault. You reap what you sow, and I'm the one with the scythe here. Got it?"
Wordlessly, Superboy nodded.
"I'll stop at the high school first before escorting Master Timothy to the elementary building," Alfred informed.
"Aww, wait, can't Superboy come to school with me today?" whined Tim.
Both teenagers stared at the younger child.
"I was gonna take him for show-and-tell!" he wailed disappointedly.
This time around Dick didn't even bother trying to stifle his laughter.
"Maybe another day," he offered consolingly, which was hard to do convincingly, "if Superboy's okay with it."
For his part, Superboy looked utterly lost as to what was being asked of him or its importance.
"Uh...sure?" he said eventually, sounding entirely uncertain. Tim whooped for joy anyway.
"Yess! Let's see Jaime Reyes top that!"
As they clamored into the car, Tim complaining about rival show-and-tell showdowns in his class, Dick saw Superboy hesitate at the car. And he recognized the confliction splayed across the older boy's face, that confusing mixture of "This feels right" and "Yet it doesn't." It was last night's conversation all over again. He understood to such a degree that he knew how to help.
So to start, Dick smiled knowingly and kicked open the back door.
"Need a lift?"
"So let me get this straight," Wally said slowly, as though Dick was incapable of hearing each individual syllable correctly. "You see a giant walking down the street without a coat, get all puppy-eyed and sad, so then invite the guy to spend the night in your mansion. Dude, I'm worried."
"I really don't see the big deal, Wally," he replied for the hundredth time that morning. "Supes may have bark, but no bite. Actually, no bark either—if you haven't noticed, the guy barely speaks."
"I assumed he was mute," remarked Artemis offhandedly, joining into the conversation. "Not a man of many words. But those pectorals. Mmm."
"Your female hormones are so not helping," muttered Wally, making a face. "Was it the pecs, Dick? Do not be fooled. Because if girls are anything to go by, a nice chest does not mean—"
"Hey, guys!" a new voice entered the scene. Wally quickly trailed off that particular line of thought; smart move, since Artemis was within perfect smacking distance. "What are we all talking about?"
A familiar face had just approached the table. Megan Morazz was a friendly girl with red hair and auburn eyes. She was currently carrying a trey of salad for lunch and observing the residents of their table with intrigue.
"Obviously, Megan remains woefully uninformed of Grayson's act of kindness last night," Artemis realized. She gestured for their friend to take the empty seat beside of her. Megan sat down and listened intently while the other girl filled her in.
"Oh, wow! Dick, that's like, the sweetest story ever. I'm so proud of you," she said in way that sounded akin to a sister congratulating her little brother. Wally pouted.
"So Dickie picks up a stray and gets more honor than usual, and what of poor Wallace?" he asked affrontedly.
"What praiseworthy things have you done lately?" Artemis wanted to know, an eyebrow raised.
"Plenty. While just last week, I paid for Bette Kane's candy bar after she lost her dollar."
"With the money I leant you," Dick reminded. Smirking, Wally shrugged in a 'what can you do?' way.
"Your money, my generosity."
A black-haired boy exited the school building after the last bell, unbothered and unheeded, which was exactly how he preferred. Hands shoved into his pockets and expression aloof, he crossed the busy intersection without so much as a wince to reach the familiar figure waiting on the other side.
Wolf's tail wagged upon seeing him approach.
"Hey, boy," Superboy said with a smile. The scruffy mammal immediately nuzzled his outstretched arm, indicating that he was relieved to see his missing master.
"Good, Wolf," he went on, scratching his faithful companion behind the ear.
"Want to go find some grub?" asked Superboy, to which Wolf barked agreeably. Smirking again, the broad boy was about to go do just that, when his keen eyesight caught somebody else.
The Grayson boy. Dick, he remembered. The kind kid who offered him a warm bed and meal, with the funny little brother and the butler with the cool accent. Who lived in house larger than the street he grew up on.
He was standing solo, head twisting in every direction. Like he was looking for someone... Me? Superboy wondered incredulously. A startled sense of hope flooded his chest.
Then a ginger-haired boy joined him, followed by a blonde girl, both of whom he recognized from some of his classes. However, he couldn't place their names. Whomever they were, the boy had Dick involved in an animated conversation, and the girl seemed to be adding in her two cents as well. The interaction appeared so natural and friendly from afar.
A strange feeling infiltrated his stomach: Temptation. Should he abandon his original endeavor and re-cross the street like his feet were urging? Or stay put like his mind insisted?
In the end, Superboy's heart made the decision for him.
Swiftly, he motioned for his fellow stray to follow when he stepped out of sight and swept into the shadows.
Disappointedly, Dick had a sinking feeling as he stood just beyond the school's front doors, searching for any sign of Superboy. There was no evidence of the upperclassman anywhere...
"Dick, you okay?" asked Artemis.
He shook himself from the stupor, willing himself to look his friend in the face.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I was just..." Dick's attempts were fruitless as his eyes continued to scour the area in vain. Shaking his head, he quietly affirmed, "Nothing. Never mind."
"Cheer up, dude," said Wally comfortingly, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "I'll pay you back for the vending machine at the arcade, okay?"
That garnered a smile. "Thanks, man."
He never noticed the icy blue eyes watching their departure from the safe confines of the alleyway.
Oh, Conner, playing hard to get? And honestly Dick, you could have won that argument a lot faster had you just batted those beautiful baby blue eyes to make Daddy!Bats melt. But no, that would just be too easy.
Longer than I expected, but no complaints, right?
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