"I was thinking; I'd like to take the bike into Gotham, today," Dick announced over breakfast.

Bruce's forehead furrowed. His gut aversion to letting the boy go by himself hadn't waned in the weeks he had been here. Weeks… It was over a month, by now.

"Where do you want to go?"

Dick glanced under his bangs – that visit to a hairdresser was way overdue.

"The library."

"Why? Don't we have a perfectly adequate collection of books here?"

"Not for what I wanted… School starts in a few weeks, and I've got a few things I should look into."

"You've got an assignment over summer break?"

Dick shrugged and looked down at his scrambled eggs.

"Not an assignment, as such. Just something I know is coming up, and I want to prepare. I thought I'd look at some of the books we're going to read, too. It's not the same as the stuff you're giving me, after all. For some reason, forensic hasn't made the curriculum yet."

It wasn't an unreasonable request. Something was definitely off in the way Dick was telling it – he hadn't yet learned to be quite as accomplished a lier as he was as an adult – but it might just be that the boy wanted to get out of the Manor. He had sneaked out as Robin only a few days before, but Dick Grayson had been pretty cooped up for several weeks.

"I could do with a trip to the office. I'll give you a lift and pick you up when you're ready."

"You don't need to trouble yourself, Bruce. I don't know how long I'll be…"

"Nonsense. The rain is hanging in the air; I don't want you to get wet. And I don't have any meetings scheduled; I can pick you up any time. We might even have time for ice cream or something on the way back."

The proposition didn't get the immediate happy response Bruce would have expected, but after thinking a few seconds, Dick nodded and gave him a smile that was genuine enough.

"… Sure, that'd be nice."

They took off after the rush hour had passed, and Bruce was secretly relieved about the grey clouds and the chilly winds since the boy brought one of the jackets that had a tracker sewn into it. With one tracker in the phone and one in the jacket, he wouldn't lose sight of Dick.

After leaving Dick outside one of the largest libraries in the city, close to Gotham University, he drove on to Wayne Enterprises. On the way to his office, he opened his app to check that the trackers were functional; and right enough, he could see two dots close to each other on the Gotham map. He put the phone in his pocket and started thinking about what he should make his priorities during the next few hours.

He found himself swept up in work; reading papers, making calls, e-mail and impromptu meetings. It was almost three in the afternoon, while he was waiting for Lucius Fox to come by and talk about the Canadian deal, when he realised the day had passed and he hadn't heard from Dick.

Not that the boy hadn't taken school seriously, but a whole day at the library and passing up on a chance to have lunch in town or ice cream… That was unexpected, Bruce thought and opened the app on his phone to check on the boy's location.

A wave of cold shot through his body when he realised that the dots from Dick's trackers were far apart. The one connected with his mobile was still at the library; the other signal was moving along the outskirts of Port Adams.

Bruce didn't even know how he got to his feet. He was standing on the other side of his office, hearing Dick's phone go straight to voicemail while the thought "this never happened, this never happened" kept circling in his head, when firm knocks on the door announced that Lucius had arrived.

He couldn't very well pretend he wasn't in…

"Come."

"Hello, Bruce, you're giving us ideas…" Lucius started saying with a smile, but he stopped himself and looked with a frown at his boss.

"What's wrong?"

So much for his poker face… He couldn't make too big a deal of what was going on. Someone could have stolen Dick's jacket, after all. Surely he would have known if there had been a scheme to kidnap Dick at this time… But there was no way he could hide that he was rattled; a half-truth would have to do.

"I forgot to pick Dick up, and now I can't reach him on the phone. It's probably nothing, he's at the library, and the phone should be on mute, but I'm eager to get there."

"Of course. We can have a telephone conference later…?"

"Not necessary. I've looked over the documents. Everything seems in order, except to make sure the companies we're dealing with have a clean record when it comes to environmental and labour issues. We don't want any hassle with environmentalist or the union. And make sure they're not involved in any battle over land claims. As soon as we've got an all clear on that, I say we go for it," Bruce said.

He caught a surprised look on Lucius' face and stopped for a moment, raising his eyebrows.

"Anything wrong?"

"Uh… No, no, I completely agree. You're not normally as blunt as that, especially when it comes to social responsibility issues, that's all. As a matter of fact, I've already asked for a complete report on those particular issues, and I expect to get it in a day or two. But I can tell you're stressed; I'll make sure everything is clean and press on, shall I?"

"Please do. Thank you, Lucius," Bruce said, managing a quick smile on his way to the door.

"Of course… And Bruce…!"

"Hm?"

"Let me know when you've found him, will you?"

"I will," Bruce promised as he rushed through the door.

Halfway down to the car he realised he had forgotten to bring the suitcase with a spare Batsuit he had hidden in the office. He stopped for a second, undeciding, but soon continued on his way. If something really had happened, time was of the essence, after all. If he had to, Bruce Wayne wasn't a complete pushover.

He started the car and took another look at the tracker app. The moving dot had left Port Adams and was heading west on one of the smaller streets inside Fashion District.

It was certainly strange that the mobile was in the library while the jacket was moving. He would have expected the boy to hang on to his phone before the jacket. Perhaps the piece of clothing had been stolen, after all.

He swallowed. But if someone had grabbed Dick, it made sense for them to leave the phone behind, since everyone knew it could be used to trace him.

He took another look and forced himself to think logically. The tracker signal wasn't moving fast enough to be in a car… Unless there was an unexpected traffic jam, the reasonable explanation was that the person – probably Dick – was walking. Of course, you could walk with a gun against your back, he reminded himself, pressing his lips together and gripping the steering wheel harder.

If he drove between Old Gotham and Diamond District and headed north, he should be able to cut off whoever was wearing the jacket soon enough.

By the time Bruce had reached the upper part of Fashion District, the dot was passing the bridge over to the Narrows. The pace suggested that the person had started to jog, rather than walk.

Bruce swiftly calculated the fastest route. If there had been a decent place to park the car, he would have caught up quicker by foot. As it were, he had to navigate one-way lanes and dead ends. After some deliberation, he decided to drive further west and take one of the streets that passed the Narrows, to cut Dick off on whatever alley he took over the island.

As expected, the car took him over to the west side of the Narrows ahead of the tracker signal which was moving at a, by now, slow pace along the northern shore. He turned right, stopped the car on the road the dot was moving along and stepped out.

A few minutes later he spotted his ward; Dick was alternating between looking up at the houses around him and taking notes in a notebook. No one was following him, no one was threatening him…

Bruce closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing; his feelings were warring between relief and anger. What the hell was Dick up to… He had evidently meant to sneak out; otherwise, the mobile wouldn't be at the library.

Dick continued to stroll along; it was obvious when he finally noticed his guardian. The boy stopped in his tracks and stared with wide eyes across the street at Bruce who was standing with his arms crossed and as neutral a face as he could manage. After a few seconds, Dick shrugged, crossed the street and walked up to his guardian with a cautious look.

"Bruce."

Bruce jerked his head against the car.

"Hop in. We'll get your things at the library and head home."

Dick stayed where he was, with a slight frown and cocking his head to one side.

"How did you know where I was."

"We'll talk later."

"I don't have my phone… No way! You didn't, did you? You totally did! You've got a tracker somewhere on me!"

"In the car, Dick."

"Where is it?!"

"Later. Please."

Dick glared at him, angrily pushed his notebook in a pocket and started walking towards the car. He opened his mouth as to say something but closed it again, pressing his lips tightly together.

Bruce followed him, feeling more tired than angry. Dick hadn't broken any outright promise, after all. Sneaking out from the library to take a walk in Gotham in broad daylight wasn't exactly courting danger. But they still had an unpleasant conversation ahead of them.

He drove silently to the library and stopped in front.

"I suppose your phone is in a locker?"

"Yes."

"Get it, and we'll head home."

Dick left the car, slamming the door a bit too hard, and rushed up the stairs. He slowed his steps on top when a girl with long, red hair exited the library. She smiled and held the door for him, and Bruce could see his ward plaster on a smile for her and saying a few words before he disappeared inside. Barbara Gordon glanced after the boy before she continued down the steps.

Bruce stepped out of the car; his eyes fixed on the young girl that had been one of his closest allies before everything changed. But here and now, they were only acquaintances. He leaned against the car and arranged his features into a relaxed smile.

"Hello, Barbara!"

Barbara walked up to the car with a smile.

"Mr Wayne! So Dick is getting ready for school, too! I saw him earlier, looking through some books."

Bruce nodded with what he thought was a jovial expression.

"School will be good for him. I think he's getting fed up with only me and Alfred for company. How's your father?"

"He's well, thank you. He mentioned he met you the other day when the Scarecrow was on the loose."

"Mhm. It was… an interesting day. Are you on your way home? Can we offer you a lift?"

Barbara's hair waved around her shoulders when she shook her head.

"Thanks, I'm fine. I'm meeting a friend on the way."

"All right. Give my best to your father; I hope I'll see him under more peaceful circumstances soon."

When Barbara walked away, he took out his mobile to send a quick text to Lucius and call Alfred. Since they had skipped lunch – at least, Bruce had, and he was fairly certain Dick wouldn't have eaten anything substantial – and they were going to a reception in the evening, some kind of food would be welcome.

Shortly, Dick exited the library and Bruce stepped back into the car. He drove away as soon as Dick had strapped in.

The trip home was silent. Neither of them seemed prepared to start the discussion that would, inevitably, end in an angry confrontation. Dick was mad, that much was clear – and Bruce wasn't exactly thrilled with his ward's actions either.

"Alfred has made us something to eat. We've got a function tonight, but we'll need something before that," he said as he parked the car in front of the Manor. "We'll eat in peace and talk after, all right?"

Dick made a low grunt, of acceptance as far as Bruce could tell, and got out of the car.


Barbara has a very small cameo here. As far as I know, Dick and Barbara being friends at school is an (animated) Young Justice thing, and while I very much like the show this is not that universe, so they are not close here. The only Batgirl around in the Golden age was Betty Kane, after all, but as I've said before, I don't think that has survived into current canon.

Bonus of the week: Variations of Dick Grayson's and Robin's origin story.

Tumblr com / blog / northoftheroad