Did paperwork actually multiply if you left them in an empty room? And whatever happened to the paperless office, Bruce mused as he looked over his desk in the Wayne Enterprises headquarter.

For all that he was generally considered to be more interested in polo horses than in the demand and supply of Wayne Enterprises' products, Bruce Wayne's signature was still needed on certain documents.

Since Dick had an appointment with Leslie at the Free Clinic, and Alfred was going to drive the boy there and pick him up after running some errands, Bruce had decided to go to the office and get some work done. With all the experience he had of heading the company in different capacities from his earlier life, the tasks that he was supposed to do weren't difficult. But even after two hours of work, the stacks of paper seemed to be just as high as when he started, and he had hardly made a dent in the inbox of his email.

It wasn't an entirely unwelcome distraction when his mobile chirped – at least it wasn't a police siren, or a steam train signal, this time; Dick had had mercy on him…

The caller id disclosed who was on the other end – no doubt wanting to talk to him in person, rather than relying on Alfred as a go-between.

"Leslie?"

"… Bruce, I'm sorry to disturb you when you're working. But you need to come and pick Dick up."

He glanced at his watch.

"Alfred should be coming for him in less than an hour."

"No Bruce, you'll have to come yourself."

He fought down a surge of panic. Leslie would have told him if there was something wrong with Dick. But what could the child have done for Leslie to want him out of there?

"What happened?" he asked, as he rose from his desk.

"… It was an unfortunate coincidence. I had a team here inspecting the clinic. Dick was doing some acrobatics to cheer up the kids in the waiting room, he was walking around on his hands, and of course, the t-shirt fell down and exposed his torso. One in the team is doctor Alice Lan; she's very dedicated to children's rights and a consultant to the CPS. She saw Dick's scars… I'm afraid she might start something. I only hope you'll be able to sweet-talk her out of it."

"… I'll be right over."

It was just as well that no-one really expected Bruce Wayne of this era to take his company very seriously; there was nothing stopping him from leaving the papers on his desk, tell his secretary he needed to pick up Dick and escape the office.

He had tried all kinds of different approaches to his company during the years – everything from uninterested playboy to hardworking CEO. There was no question which was most convenient if he wanted to concentrate on his work as Batman, but being distant from the company also meant a bigger risk of losing control. Oliver Queen would learn that, in time.

Perhaps not this time, though; if Bruce could get through that thick skull of the man. It would have been easier if the archer was already in a relationship with Dinah Lance, who was a sensible woman…

Ollie had managed to keep going as Green Arrow even when he didn't have his company, but truth be told, Bruce couldn't see Batman being very efficient without his funding. He would be able to fight street-level crime, but his capacity to monitor larger threats would be severely hampered. And the Wayne money was instrumental for the League, as well.

He sighed, on the way out from the office building; he really needed to take a greater interest in his company again.

Bruce got into the car and headed north in the direction of Crime Alley and the clinic, brooding over the upcoming discussion – if it indeed were as bad as Leslie feared.

During his more than a decade as a foster parent, this was certainly not the first time that someone had tried to take one of the kids away – and this particular incident had never even happened in his past. He briefly wondered whether it would have been different if he had been married – or a woman.

If someone wanted to take Robin away from Batman, he could have understood. But instead, people tried to take the boy from Bruce Wayne, eligible bachelor and financially capable of taking care of dozens of orphans.

He was aware that Dick at times had had… issues about his place in the family. Bruce's own emotional incompetence had certainly been a factor, but he couldn't help but blaming part of it on the attempts to remove him from Wayne Manor.

Survivor's guilt and repeatedly afraid of losing his new home… However Dick turned out as well-adjusted as he did… I must have done something right, for all my shortcomings, Bruce mused while he drove his car into the small parking lot beside the Free clinic.

He went in and headed for Leslie's office, passing the entrance to the waiting room where Dick was sitting, very still, his arms wrapped around himself and staring down at the floor. It was clear that he somehow had picked up what his acrobatics had lead to.

Bruce hesitated, almost turning into the room to reassure the miserable boy; then he took a deep breath and continued. The threat to their home needed to be dealt with first.

He walked into the corridor leading to Leslie's room and knocked on her door, mentally preparing himself for a fight. It only took a few seconds before Leslie opened the door for him.

"Bruce; I'm glad you could come so quickly. Come in."

She stepped away from the door opening to let him in and made a gesture to a woman, standing in front of a chair.

"Alice Lan. Bruce Wayne," she introduced them curtly. "I'll let you talk in private in here. Alice, if you have any more questions about Dick, come to see me or call whenever you need. Bruce, Dick is well on his way to recovery. He can start with light training now – I'm sure that will be a relief for both of you. But keep him away from the trapeze at least another week."

With that, Leslie nodded to both of them and left the room, closing the door behind her. Only then, Bruce realised that he hadn't decided what persona to use for the discussion. Playboy Brucie, Batman in civilian guise, the billionaire businessman, the orphan philanthropist…

The doctor didn't give him time to ponder further. She crossed her arms and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I understand you've been informed of my misgivings, Mister Wayne. I invite you to try to convince me that Richard Grayson comes to no harm under your roof. The amount of injuries that I could see has befallen him exceeds most things I've ever seen, even in cases of severe abuse."

Playboy Brucie would be useless against the direct approach of Doctor Lan, he decided.

He remained standing and resisted an impulse to shove his hands in his pockets or cross his arms – he needed to project calm and confidence, not defensiveness. He let the silence linger a few seconds before he started talking.

"I suppose Leslie has told you that Dick comes from a circus family? He already had a fair amount of scars when he came to live with me. He's had encounters with most everything, from hay forks to lions and tigers, I've been told."

Alice Lan gave him an unimpressed look.

"Be that as it may, Mister Wayne; several of those scars were more recent than that. And I understand that his latest injury happened only a few weeks ago."

"Dick is a very active boy. It's quite impossible to get him to sit still, besides what is necessary for homework. He insists on continuing to train as an acrobat. I believe it is important for him to keep his skills as a bond with his parents, so I've chosen to encourage him. And we've had our fair share of incidents with criminals. Unfortunately, too many Gothamites sees violence and threats as an acceptable source of income."

Some people – actually, most people – thought that Batman was tiresome in his zeal to prepare for everything. He had never let that bother him, and he was nothing but relieved that he regularly thought out cover stories for all Dick's visible injuries. He invariably let the boy learn them, too, so that they would tell the same story if anything like this happened.

That's why he could say, with conviction in his voice, "I'm sure Leslie already told you, but his most recent injury is the result of an accident when we went mountaineering in Canada."

She could dig as much as she wanted – Bruce had all the necessary paperwork to prove that he and Dick had used his private jet for a trip up north and that a local doctor had treated the wound. He even had an ice axe that was a good fit for Dick's stab wound. And if someone insisted on talking to the doctor – well, Martian Manhunter was but a phone call away. He was still wary of meeting the telepath in person, but a call shouldn't be a problem.

"I could clearly see a scar that must have come from a bullet wound."

"As I said, Doctor – Dick and I have unfortunately been victims of crime, more than once. Leslie or the police will have the details, depending on what injury you're interested in. I'm sorry to say that you are not the first person to ask for information about Dick, so they can probably find the files quickly enough."

"There was a scar from some type of jagged slash over his back."

A near miss from Killer Crook – that one had been a bit of a conundrum to come up with a plausible explanation for.

"That would… be from the time when Dick took a fall from a horse and fell unfortunate on a broken branch. It was sticking up beside the pathway, and it ripped a nasty wound when he fell."

Doctor Lan raised her eyebrows at him.

"… One might argue that you permit the boy too much freedom for dangerous past-times…"

"Dick pretty much learned to walk on a tightrope; he's not likely to find climbing trees intimidating. And he will try to swing from anything that is high enough. He broke a chandelier in our home when he used it for flips when he was younger. And once, a tree branch he was climbing broke, and he fell straight down in a glass greenhouse. You couldn't count the number of cuts he got from that one."

Bruce mentally excused himself to his ward, who would not appreciate being described as an impulsive thrill seeker. Dick might be less eager to plan ten steps ahead than his mentor, and far too careless of his own safety than Bruce appreciated, but he wouldn't have survived into adulthood if he were as irresponsible as Bruce was describing him.

"Mr Wayne, you know what they say about protesting too much…? It's obvious that you have explanations and, quite probably, impeccable proof for every injury I could find on Richard. Don't you think that this, in itself, is quite suspicious?"

Bruce sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, but he kept meeting her eyes.

"Doctor, several people have tried to remove Richard from my custody. Not all of them have done so with his best intentions at heart. I don't know you, but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and believe that you are raising these questions because you want what's best for him, and no other reason. But I encourage you to get all the information and think carefully before you do something. Because I will fight you. The last thing Dick needs is to lose another family."

The doctor studied him with a steady gaze but didn't offer a return.

"Now, Doctor Lan, do you have any more questions? Or may I take my boy home?"

Alice Lan pursed her lips and continued to fix him with a look, letting him wait several seconds for a reply. Then she nodded curtly.

"Thank you, Mister Wayne. I will consider what you've told me. And get back to you."

That was not what Bruce wanted to hear but probably the best he could hope for at the moment. He rose, shook her hand and said goodbye, eager to pick up Dick.

The boy was still sitting still in the chair, looking smaller than usual and not even kicking his feet around. Bruce went up to him, stopped and waited for the boy to look up and acknowledge him.

"Come on, chum, we're going home."

After the initial glance, Dick stared down in the ground, but he made a short jerk with his head and got to his feet to follow Bruce from the waiting room and out to the car. It wasn't until they were several minutes away from the Free clinic that he said something, in a low voice and not looking at his guardian.

"I'm so sorry, Bruce. I was just so bored, I only had to see Leslie for a few minutes, and Alfred wouldn't come back for me in an eternity… And there were a few kids there. A girl who seemed really scared. And a boy – Jason – he was there with his mother. I think she must have some kind of problem because he seemed like he had to help her, even though he was just a little kid. He seemed tired and on edge. I just wanted to help them forget and relax for a little while… Will you… will you be getting in trouble?"

Bruce froze… Jason. Could it have been his Jason, living with his mother in the Crime Alley area? And he had missed him…

At least that would mean that Jason's mother was still alive and that they were in Gotham. Batman would have no trouble locating them, and he mentally pushed "find and help Jason" further up on his to-do-list. Somehow, he would make sure that the boy could go to a good school. Jason would enjoy that… His heart went out to the boy, forced to grow up much too fast and take responsibility instead of being taken care of.

It took a while for him to realise that Dick was staring down into his lap, blinking and with strained lines around his mouth. He had become so distracted thinking about Jason that he had forgotten to reassure the boy he had beside him.

I'm not screwing things up with him, this time, he swore to himself. I'll never make him feel unwelcome or say it was a mistake to work with a partner.

He reached out to put one hand on the boy's shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze.

"No Dick, you mustn't feel bad! I hope you'll remember to make sure your clothes will stay on the next time you decide to cheer up kids in a public area, but I know you didn't mean any harm. I'll be all right, and I won't let them take you from me. That's a promise, kiddo!"

Dick glanced at him from under his too long bangs – that's another thing that needed to be taken care of soon – with an uncertain expression. He looked as if he were about to speak, but bit his lip and fell silent.

Bruce waited patiently, and after a few more aborted attempts, Dick finally asked.

"What were you thinking about? You looked… so serious."

"… Just that having children is a lot more challenging… and a lot more rewarding… than I had ever thought, chum. Perhaps… perhaps one day, we will have a bigger family than you and I and Alfred. I think you'd make a fantastic big brother."

But it wouldn't be to Jason and Tim, Bruce thought with an empty feeling in his chest. Robin would start and end with Dick.

(Ok, sue me, I couldn't resist the suspicious social worker/doctor trope... ) At least three times, Bruce has been forced to go to trial to keep the guardianship of Dick. In Batman # 20, Batman # 57 and Nightwing # 75.

Oh, and there were those times when Dick got the impression that Bruce was replacing him with someone else. Who wouldn't have some insecurities after that? (Batman # 13, Batman # 65, Batman # 50.)

Today it's hard to imagine Batman operating on a small budget, but Bruce Wayne was more moderately wealthy in the beginning (at the very start, he didn't have a mansion, or butler, or a Batcave, or even a Batmobile) and in Detective Comics # 105, he actually lost his fortune and Batman and Robin had to (among other things) perform at a circus to earn gas money for the Batmobile. Bruce was broke for all about 12 pages, that is… "The Batman Goes Broke". Detective Comics # 105 by Don Cameron, art by Win Mortimer.

Doctor Leslie Thompkins is a Bronze age addition to Batman's world. Her first appearance was in Detective Comics # 457; at that time she was a nice old lady but not a doctor, but she was later reimagined and has been called upon to save the lives of members of the Batfamily countless times.

Read and see more about this on my Tumblr.

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