AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the SECOND-TO-LAST chapter in this story. There's a correction I must make from the last chapter: In Bruce's speech, he said "The world would be taken over by *Doomsday* or someone." I meant to say *Darkseid*. Also, I HAVE to apologize for the last two stories I've done. They weren't very good because I'd written them at the last moment ('tis the way of a procrastinator). This chapter was MEANT to be uploaded on February, 19th, 2013, in honor of my one-year-anniversary as a member on this site. But due to unfortunate circumstances, that had to be postponed. Anyway, thanks to all of you who have held on since then.

Warnings: A small bit of language. Also this chapter is the longest chapter with a word count of about 5,600 words (not including the A/Ns) and is the fluffiest and most personal.

Chapter 10: Faith…and a Robin... (Part II)

A gentle breeze played with Dick's over-grown bangs. It seemed like he and Bruce had been hugging for hours. It felt good. Bruce had his hand buried in his son's hair as he held Dick's head closer to him. Dick's neck had a slight crick in it from being in such a position against Bruce's chest for so long, but he didn't care. It just felt so good to have Bruce hold him like this. Dick gave a soft sigh of peace and dug his head deeper into Bruce's chest, pulling the older man back to the present. He placed his hands on Dick's shoulders slowly pulled out of his grasp. Dick gave him a saddened look and Bruce half-expected an "aww" from him. Bruce smirked.

"You didn't think we'd keep hugging for eternity, did you?"

"No…Just a few hours…maybe."

Bruce pushed away the bangs hanging in Dick's face, knowing they'll only come back. "Listen, Dick." Bruce laid a strong hand in the spot just between the younger man's shoulder and neck. "I want you to know that everything—everything—that I've said today was the truth."

Dick gave the tiniest smile the world had ever seen, but Bruce could guess that it was there. "I know."

Bruce gave a slight sigh and pulled Dick towards him again to make his son—and himself—a bit happier. With the side of his head resting against the side of Dick's, Bruce said, "I'm not good with showing emotion, as you already know. It's something that's hard for me to do, and, to be honest, it…scares me sometimes. But, Dick, you've scared me more in just two days alone than emotion ever could. And that's because I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you and it was my fault. I need you, Dick, a hell of a lot more than you'll ever need me. And I'm sorry that I don't tell you that as much as I should. Dick…I really do love you."

"I love you, too, Bruce."

The two embraced each other again, not as much as before, but still lovingly. "You shouldn't." It was said in a low whisper and more to himself. Dick was going to say something about how that isn't true, but decided against it. For now, anyway. Dick drove his head into the crick of Bruce's neck. The older man smelled strongly of sweat, but it didn't matter.

"Hey, Bruce?"

"Hm?"

"What the hell happened to your clothes?"

"…Well… Hm. It's a long story." Dick gave Bruce a look that said "I've got time. You?" and Bruce couldn't help but smirk again. "Or maybe it isn't that long. See, before I'd gotten here, I had a few…complications."

"Such as?" Bruce could already tell that Dick was going to enjoy this.

"Do you know of the thick branches back there that block the path?" Bruce jerked his thumb in the direction from which he came.

"Yeeesss." Dick gave a small, mischievous grin. He could already tell that he was going to enjoy this.

"See…and I know I'm stupid for this…I…kind of…tried to…" Bruce slid his hand through the air and Dick's face lit up. "…go through them…" Dick stared at Bruce for a moment in disbelief and then burst into a fit of laughter. Bruce sighed.

"Uh-hunh huck-huck ha-ha hoo waahaha uhhh hen-ha! (A/N: Yes, I know I suck at writing laughter) Oh, Bruce! Ohhh, I…heh-heh ha ahhh. I'm sorry, Bruce. Just—heh-heh—why?"

"Well, I did have to find you."

"Well, yeah, but…I mean it's one thing if I went through there, but you're, like, twice my size."

"So I've noticed."

"Why didn't you just go through the hole that was only a few feet away?"

"I didn't see the hole until I was already on the other side and half-naked." Dick giggled. "You just think it's so hilarious, don't you?"

"Well, it serves you right."

"For what? Trying to find my son?"

"For taking so long in doing so."

"Hmph, excuse me, but you didn't want to be found, remember?"

Dick looked up at Bruce with deep, blue eyes. "I never said that."

"Then what about when you told me to leave you alone?"

Dick shifted to where his back leaned against Bruce's broad chest. "I'm really messed up these days, Bruce."

Bruce placed his hands on either of Dick's shoulders and said into his ear, "No, Dick. You're not. You're just confused. You're dealing with a lot all at one time."

Dick nodded, then quickly shook his head. "No, I really am messed up. I have this really odd intention right now. You know what it is? I have this intention to eat Super Glue. Super glue, Bruce. Something I hadn't even done in first grade."

"You didn't go to the first grade."

"Beside the point."

"You're probably just hungry. After all, you haven't eaten in at least two days."

Dick shrugged. "Maybe. But it's still odd—even for me."

Bruce sighed and placed his chin atop Dick's head. For the next several minutes, the two were silent and still apart from the occasional shifting in place. Bruce was simply thankful that his son was unharmed and that things were better between the two of them. Dick, on the other hand, had begun thinking about his parents and about the past few weeks. After a while, it came to Bruce's attention that Dick hadn't moved nor made a sound for longer than he would have liked. He looked down and noticed that Dick's face was blank—almost as if no one was home. Bruce shook him lightly.

"Hey. Dick?"

"…Hm? Oh, uh…"

"Are you all right?"

"Um…yeah. Yeah, I'm…all right." Bruce turned Dick so that the younger man was facing him. He tilted Dick's head so that their eyes would meet. "It's just that…" Dick looked away—or tried to, rather.

"What is it, Dick? You can tell me."

Dick sighed. "I don't know. It's just strange to look back on your life and see that it isn't anything like you'd thought it would be, y'know?"

"Well, things change as time progresses. Events can happen that alter our futures and even ourselves. We can't keep these things from happening to us, no matter how hard we'd like to try. It's the way of life, Dick."

"Yeah. But don't you ever think about how nice it would be if you could keep the promises you've made? If you could make proud the people that mattered the most to you?"

"What do you mean, Dick?"

Dick sighed again and lowered his eyes—though Bruce still held his head in place. "My parents would be ashamed of me."

"What? No, they wouldn't, Dick. They'd be proud of you."

"It's just…I… Ever since I was little, my dad had taught me that nothing in life came easy. That you had to fight in everything you do. Everything. And that life's ultimate purpose was to test you. Test your strength. Your ability. Your will. And no matter how you were tested, you always had to come out on top. That's how you stay alive in this world. You can't give up or else life will tear you apart. You always have to stay strong. Things will always be hard because there will always be another test waiting for you. The only way you can cheat these tests—the only way you can take the easy way out on life, is to end it. And anyone who is going to cheat a test never should have been offered it from the beginning. And anyone who is not willing to fight for their life does not deserve to have one. That's exactly what I've done, Bruce. I've been trying to take the easy way out of life when in truth, it's the only way out. Life happens. Tests will come. But you can't give up just because you don't know an answer. My father wanted me to be strong. He embedded into me that everything that's given to me needs to be earned. Including life. And in one foul swoop, I'm ready to throw it all away. My father would be disappointed." Dick hung his head in shame and closed his eyes tightly.

"You're wrong, Dick. There is no possible way that either of your parents could ever be disappointed with the man you've become." Bruce wrapped his arms around Dick's middle—a trick that he knew would force Dick to look at him. "You've achieved so much, Little Bird. Your parents would be proud of you. Like I am."

Dick gave Bruce a small, sad smile. "If only I could be positive of that, Bruce." Bruce stroked Dick's hair in the way an elderly man would pet an animal. When the thought of this occurred to Dick, he was insulted for just the briefest moment. Then he realized that he somewhat enjoyed the sensation. After all, he did—according to Bruce—act like a primate sometimes.

The two were silent for a few moments: Dick loosing himself in the petting and Bruce wishing his son could see what he saw in the young acrobat. Finally, without thinking, Bruce spoke. "You're not worthless, Dick. No matter how much you may think so." His voice was calm and gentle, but also far away as if wasn't in control of what he was saying. It caught Dick's easily-lost attention rather quickly. "To me…and to your parents…you mean the whole world, Dick. You are our world. You're the very thing that keeps us hanging on. That keeps us here long after we've gone. You make things brighter just by being in its presence. You are the very definition of 'love', Dick. And you teach it to everyone you meet. You teach them that it's okay to live again. And that you can't take the easy way out, even if things look impossible. Because you also teach that nothing is impossible, even if it is not possible. And you know what, Dick? Fifteen years ago I would have thought that that didn't make any sense at all. But you teach people that things don't always have to make sense to be true. Love is illogical and indefinable. But I now know that logic itself is illogical. And that not everything that exists is in the dictionary. And not everything in the dictionary is true.
"Your parents would have been—are—proud to call you their son. You're not weak, Dick. You are amongst the strongest people I've ever known. If you were weak, you would not be here right now. In fact, if you were weak, you wouldn't give a damn about what your parents or anyone else think of you. But you are not weak, Dick. And you're not taking the easy way. There is nothing easy about leaving the people you love behind. There's nothing easy about making the decision between living a life of suffering, and not dying in peace, knowing what you're leaving behind. The options alone are enough to drive one into instability, and even mad. You've earned this life more times than I can say. You are strong; that's why you're still here."

Dick looked Bruce in the eye with a straight face. "You wanna know just why I'm still here, Bruce?" Bruce gave a short, almost unnoticeable nod. Dick sighed. "I'm here because I have to be." Dick looked at Bruce with a serious look on his face. Bruce couldn't tell if it was determination or drive.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have more than just my own life to fight for, Bruce. Just as you do. I have people—my friends, my family—to still hold on to. You, Alfred, Tim, Roy, Wally, Babs—I'm fighting for all of you. Fighting to stay strong. Fighting life—and death. If I give up the fight, I give up on more than just myself. I give up on all of you."

Bruce placed a hand on Dick's right shoulder. He was a lot tenser than he had been a few minutes ago. Bruce was about to say, "You're not giving up on us, Dick" when Dick started talking again.

"…And I have a promise to fulfill. One that I made years ago, just like you did. I promised my parents that I would avenge their deaths and work to prevent crime. I promised my mother that I'd help make the world a better place, just as she was always saying I one day would. I promised my father that I'd say strong and wouldn't give up just because things got difficult. …And I promised you…that I'd never break a promise that meant something to me. And you said that a promise should always mean as much to you as the person you made it to does."

"I should really learn to follow my own advice." It was muttered, yet Dick heard it as clear as a horn. But he chose to ignore it.

"I've made promises that I do intend to keep. And I have people who depend on me, Bruce. I refuse to let them down. And I promised that I'd protect Blüdhaven. Gotham, too, a while ago. And you probably don't remember, but I promised you that I'd always be there for you, even if I'm not there."

Bruce pulled back a few locks of hair behind Dick's ear, once again knowing that they'll just go back to their place in front of Dick's face. He whispered in the ear that already had hair slipping back over it. "Had it ever occurred to you that you might make too many promises, Dick?"

Dick gave a humorless chuckle and leaned back against Bruce, the back of his head to Bruce's neck. "Maybe, Bruce. Maybe."

The two were silent again. There was something about this particular silence that for some reason caused Bruce's heart to slowly break. Just ten minutes ago, it seemed like the past few weeks had never even happened. Dick was smiling and talking freely again. The two were holding each other in a way that was all too rare between them. It was a nice, peaceful time between them. Now, Dick was depressed again. Sure, he was actually talking to Bruce, but that didn't keep Bruce's heart from aching. It was always ironic when silence was unsettling to Bruce. Just as it was ironic when Dick didn't want to talk. It was at these moments that something was bound to happen. May it be good, bad, or just plain needed, could never be predicted. Bruce despised the unpredictable.

"I don't think I've been completely honest with you, Bruce." The sound of Dick's voice was unexpected; it came with no warning or signaling. It was enough to pull Bruce out of his not-so-distant thoughts and gain his attention. "And…I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

"In the heat of all that's happened since…wow, heh, can you believe you came over only yesterday? The anger I held at you caused me to say some things that weren't entirely true. You see, you're not the only reason I…you know."

"I'm not?"

"No. I mean, you are large part of the reason—err—were. But there is more to it. And I'm sorry I made it seem like it was all your fault."

"Only most of it." It was said entirely to Bruce, himself, so Dick didn't comment. Though the remark did still make him feel incredibly guilty.

"There were other things that contributed to it all, too. When I was younger, it was my parents' deaths added to…um…" Dick waved his hand in an awkward way.

"…My neglect."

"…Uh…yeah…added to that, I didn't really feel like anyone loved me, you know? And…I kinda just blamed myself for it for a while. It didn't take long for that blame to turn into hatred. And all of that…hurt." Bruce held Dick tighter and Dick took hold of Bruce's arm.
"When I started…hurting myself…it was by complete accident. I'd scratched my leg and later accidently pulled off a scab that wasn't done healing. It was just one those that you get if you'd gotten cut by something small or if you scratch too hard. At first it hurt, but then I noticed the small bit of blood coming out. I watched it roll out like it was melting chocolate. Then all of a sudden, it didn't hurt. It felt…kind of good, actually. I felt my heart racing and I wondered… I put my finger onto where the scab had been removed and pressed down and twisted. It's like the pain never even came; just…pleasure, I suppose. I gasped and couldn't control myself. I started to dig my nails into my skin. I felt tears rolling down my face, but none of it ever hurt. The next thing I knew, it was half an hour later, my face was soaked, my heart was racing as if I'd just run a marathon, and my leg and hand were covered in blood. For a while I was confused…and afraid. I'd never done anything like that to myself before and I didn't know what would happen next. I just wanted to forget about it all.
"Then three weeks later, I was upset about…God, I don't even remember what. It was something small, but it got me so frustrated and unnerved. My heart was aching, my head was throbbing, and I just felt like crying. Then I was shaking and digging my nails into my upper arm. I never thought of doing it; it just happened on its own. I started crying and then my heart and head didn't ache so much anymore. By the time I'd calmed down, I realized that was in the corner of my room in a ball, shaking like a wet dog. For days I wanted to tell you—wanted to find out what was wrong with me. But I just…couldn't. I tried to stop, but instead, it only increased. I was terrified for a long time and then I just came to see it as…I don't know…help, I guess. Like…medication for a symptom or disease. It just was so tempting. I thought it felt good. I thought that it helped." Dick sighed and clutched his own arm as he thought back to his childhood.
"I guess hurting myself on the outside made the pain on the inside decrease. Physical pain is always easier than emotional pain. And I guess it was sort of…I don't know…payback, I think…to myself. You know how when you…hate someone…a lot, and you just want to cause them pain? Well, it was kind of like that for me. Hurting myself was revenge to…um…myself. …This is getting kinda awkward…"

Dick shifted in his place and Bruce nodded slightly in understanding. It was quiet for a minute or two. Dick kept shifting and Bruce just couldn't figure out why. Then it donned on him that Dick needed him to say something to ease his awkwardness, to use Dick's word.

"Oh, um…uhh…" Bruce could sense Dick biting his lip. He wondered if he'd started that habit as a way of hurting himself when around others without anyone thinking that he was actually trying to hurt himself. He shook his head, trying to convince himself that Dick is better than that. There are plenty of people who have the habit of biting their lip. In fact, Barbara does it and she's never had a suicidal thought in her life! At least…I don't think she has.

"…Um…"

Bruce realized that he still hadn't said anything to Dick and mentally slapped himself for it. "Listen…um…" He sighed and searched his brain for something to say. When he came up short, Bruce just decided to go along with doing what he's been doing these past few days—talking as it came to him. "It's all right to feel a little awkward talking about this sort of thing. …But it's good that you are. It's good that you're talking to me at all, for that matter."

"'Cause you like it, right?"

"More than I'd like to admit." Bruce sighed again and placed his hand on the arm Dick had been clutching. "It's good you're talking. It…helps to talk, sometimes."

"Yeah, I guess. Looks like I'll be getting a therapist after all."

"…Listen…I've, um…been thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"About how I've been trying so hard to get you to talk to me about what's been going and how I've been coaxing you to see a professional."

"What about it? You're just worried, is all."

"Yes, I am. But I've realized that it isn't fair for me to be pushing you like I have been."

"I'm not sure I catch your drift here, Bruce."

"…I keep telling you that you should see someone to help you with your problems. But, as I'm sure you're more than aware of, I have issues, too. They may not involve hurting myself, but they're still issues. And it's not right for me to tell you to see a therapist even though I won't. And I have just as many, if not more, problems as you do. So if I am not going to see someone, you should not have to, either."

Dick was silent for a moment, and then gave a small chuckle. "Yeah, you do have a lot of issues, Bruce."

"Mm-hm."

"Nice to know we're both crazy."

"Dick, you shouldn't think of yourself like th—"

"Bruce, Bruce, relax. I was just kidding. You're not psychotic…yet."

"That's comforting."

Dick chuckled again. "Anyway…thanks. For not forcing me to see someone. But…I feel that I still should, even though I'd rather chew broken glass. It just…seems appropriate, you know? Err…I guess you wouldn't really know."

"Somewhat so, somewhat not."

"Hm. Do you think this is more of an emotional problem, or mental?"

"…Both, to be honest. Why?"

"I was hoping it'd be more mental. That way I could pass with a psychiatrist, rather than a therapist."

"Why's that?"

"I'd prefer to have someone tell me I'm crazy than have someone go through every emotionally painful thing that's happened to me."

"Dick. Therapist and psychiatrists do both. I mean, not that you have to be insane."

"Great. So either way, I'm still going to have to talk about my…" Dick winced. "…feel-leen-ggsss…"

Bruce smirked slightly. "You get that from me"

Dick was still for a moment and Bruce worried if he went a bit too far with the "my son" concept. Suddenly Dick burst into a fit of laughter and Bruce himself couldn't help the slightest of smirks. "Yeah. I guess I do, huh? I've actually gotten quite a few things from you."

"As well I you."

"Yeah… I'm sorry I said that you didn't understand me. I was wrong."

"No, Dick. You weren't wrong." Bruce sighed and tried to straighten up some of his clothing. Tried. "I understand some things while others I do not. I understand how painful things have been throughout your life. From your parents' deaths to watching close friends die to feeling more like the villain than the hero. But I don't understand just how much pain it causes you. Maybe somewhere deep down inside of me I do. But as far as surface knowledge goes, I can't relate."

Dick was looking at Bruce. Not quite staring but more than glancing. He had a look on his face that Bruce couldn't quite read. It seemed so empty, blank. It resembled a look one might have when encountering a foreigner who is asking for directions in another language. There was no surprise in the look and no disappointment either. It wasn't quite a straight face yet it was nearly clear of emotion. Almost as if Dick had space-out and was on auto-pilot. Bruce studied the face for a moment before continuing. "As you know, my parents' murder caused me to seek vengeance. I traveled the globe seeking knowledge and improvement in my skills. I worked to become a better fighter, to become a better detective, and to become fearless. To become a man of logic and reason, rather than one of emotions and…faith. Because I've trained to become the man I am today, to become Gotham's protector, I now ignore pain. I bury it inside of me and let myself forget that it is there. And over the years I've forgotten just how painful some things can truly be. I've pressured you to lead onward, despite pain. I figured that you could handle it because you were strong. But I was wrong. Being strong does not mean being fearless or constantly pushing passed the pain. To be strong is to face the pain, not ignore it. I'm sorry I misguided you on that. I was so focused on being what The Batman needed to be that I failed to realize how much pain you were in. And I failed to realize how much I was contributing to that pain. I'm sorry, Dick. It was never my intention to hurt you. I just wish I could understand you the way you need me to." Bruce hung his head Dick's shoulder and Dick placed a hand on the top of it where you could barely make out a bald-spot.

"It's okay, Bruce. I get it now. I thought I did when I was younger, but later in life I realize that I'd just been making excuses for you. I became tired of making excuses. It wasn't until these last few years with everything that's happened to me—Blockbuster, Tarantula, Babs, Tad, Jason, and everything else—that I came to truly understand it. Not just lie to myself and think I understood, like I'd always done. But actually understand why you're such a hardass all the time. I mean, don't get wrong, I still hated the way you treated me like garbage, but I understood. And now I understand more than ever. I understand that you don't mean to be such a bastard. It's just that you're too afraid. I understand that now, and I can say so without lying. I know you've always loved me unconditionally. Even when I said I hated you and that I wished you'd never taken me in. None of that was true, Bruce. I could never hate you. I was just so angry because I didn't know why you didn't love me as much as I do you. But I get it now. You love me more than I could ever know. Before today, I don't think I could have ever apologized for not believing that you cared. And it is today that I can finally say the words I thought I'd never give you the satisfaction of hearing from me… I…forgive you, Bruce. I forgive you."

"Dick, you don't have to—"

"I want to forgive you, Bruce. I'm tired of holding on to all of the wrongs you've made toward me. I'm tired of keeping this grudge. I just want to be free, Bruce. Free from all the pain that you've caused me. That I've cause myself. I just want to let go of it all and have a better life."

"Really?" Bruce questioned in a tone that said "you don't say".

"Mm." Dick said, giving a short nod.

"Just yesterday, you told me that you weren't sure if you could ever have a better life or if you even cared anymore. Now today, you're telling me that that is all you want. A better life."

"A lot's happened since yesterday."

"Yes, it has."

"It's just…being with you has made me realize so many things about not only myself, but also about you. Bruce, to be honest, you are the one who gave me hope. You're the one who made me believe that I could get better. That I didn't have to be in so much pain anymore and that things could change for the better. You've always been there for me, Bruce, to pick me up when I fell. Just like my father was. And now you've both taught me how to pick myself up. Not just up on my knees, but on my feet, walking again. Running again. …Doing quadruple flips again." Bruce's lips tugged softly at the edges. "I've been down for a long time, Bruce. I thought I'd picked myself up, but I was only a quarter of the way there. Now it's time that I'd risen. Risen from the pain. Risen from the self-doubt. Risen from the despair and hopelessness. It's time for me to get back on my feet again, Bruce. It's time I run again. It's…time for me to rise up and take a stance in my life. Because it's a life I do want. And I am going to fight for it. I am going to pass this test." Dick looked up to the sky. "That's a promise."

Bruce sat there, watching his son make silent promises to his parents. Even if he wanted to say something at the time, the moment just didn't seem right. So he just sat there quietly, mind blank and lost. It was only a few seconds later that a fluttering shadow from above had caught the two's attentions. They looked up to a lovely sight among the trees.

"Hm. Would you look at that, eh?" Dick said, staring in awe.

"It's…a robin." (Leave it to Bruce to state the obvious.)

"Yeah…it is. I wonder what it's doing."

"It's almost as if it's…watching us."

"Hey, what's a robin doing here, anyway? It's fall in Gotham City."

"I…don't know."

"Maybe it's lost. All robins are lost at one point or another."

"I suppose. It keeps circling us. Like a vulture. How disturbing." Dick looked at Bruce who just shrugged his shoulders. "I guess 'unsettling' would be better." The robin circled the two one more time before landing on a tree branch about 18 feet up from where Bruce and Dick were. "…It's…just…staring. Staring at me."

"Yeah, I guess it is. Maybe it likes you."

"Yes, because all little birdies are just so fond of the Batman," Bruce said sarcastically.

"It may take them a little while, but eventually, they all do come around. And then the Batman's not so…batty anymore. He's more of a man. You know, thanks to his 'little birdies'."

For several moments, Bruce stared at the robin, which stared back at him. They both were unmoving, silent. After a while, Dick looked back to witness the staring competition in place.

"Hey, Bruce? Bruce?" Dick poked Bruce's chest lightly. "Um, Bruce?"

Bruce's head abruptly came to face Dick. "Hm?" He looked around almost as if confused.

"Are you okay?"

Bruce looked at Dick for a moment before returning his attention back to the bird. "It's my robin." It was said quietly and in a voice one would have when gazing upon something truly astonishing.

"Um…what?"

"It's my robin. It's been here, watching over me. It's been protecting me. Like all little birdies do. It's my robin. It's here for me. It's like a sacred spirit. Watching. Protecting. Robin."

Although Dick had no idea what Bruce was talking about, he let his mentor continue on about the bird. While listening, Dick realized how much of a poet Bruce was. Maybe Dick could convince Bruce into letting that be a new hobby of his. After two or three more minutes, Bruce finally stopped talking. He continued to stare at the bird, and eventually, Dick started staring at it, too.

Bruce's thoughts wandered off to all his "little birdies", from Dick to Tim. He acknowledge how truly grateful he was for each of them. And he just hoped that one day, all his boys would get along and they could all be one family in more than just name. Dick's thoughts were of his days as Robin. From Flying Grayson to devoted crime fighter. He thought about his parents and then about Bruce. He thought about his role in each life as their Robin. And then he thought about Robin's death, which only lead to the rebirth. Jason. Tim. For dick, it was safe to say that there would always be a Robin. Even long after he's gone.

After about 15 minutes of thought and staring, a loud noise arose. Rrrrraarrrrggggrrrrrrmmmrrr.

Bruce looked around, bewildered. "What the hell was that?" He looked down to see Dick blushing slightly and chuckling nervously.

"Heh, heh. Sorry, I guess that was me. Heh." Dick rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"See, I told you you were hungry."

"Yeah, heh." Another growl erupted from the acrobat's stomach. This time it was much louder and sounded almost as if it were being tortured. "You know, it's funny. I haven't eaten in three days and this is the first time during which that I actually feel hungry."

"Then I suggest," Bruce said slowly sliding to his feet. "That we get you something to eat so won't be starving yourself anymore."

"Yeah." Dick stood up and brushed off the back of his pants.

"And hopefully you can eat something other than Super Glue." Dick laughed softly and walked over to Bruce who put an arm around his sin's shoulders. "Come on, Slick." Dick grinned at hearing his old nickname. As the two walked back to the Manor, Bruce looked back to the Robin who was still watching. "It's okay now," Bruce whispered to the bird. "I have my robin back."

"What was that, Bruce?"

"Nothing, Dick." Bruce softly kissed Dick forehead and the two talked as they walked slowly out of the forest.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry this chapter took so long, but at least it didn't take 6 months. The last chapter to this story should be finished before July. But I might have some more computer issues (and by "might" I mean "most definitely will"). After the next chapter, I will begin on the 3rd story in the My Son series Flashing Back and Back. Also, be sure to check out my profile once a week for updates on things. Again, sorry for the crummy quality work put in to I Had a Little Batman and Bros for One New Year's Eve. Uh…I had more to say, but I forgot. Anyway, thanks for waiting!