Author's Note: Sorry for the long break. I got a little bogged down in life/work/school, but I finally finished this chapter. There will be one more after this from Bruce's perspective. I appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites. This support means so much to me. If anyone wants to offer suggestions for which Batman characters that you'd like to see fanfiction for, I'd love that. I certainly want to continue writing and have a few ideas, but some input would be awesome!

This place could not have possibly been home. No matter what everyone told him. Dick only could remember a vague notion of home: a cozy trailer decorated brightly and always filled with laughter, conversation, and music. As he moved down the cold and cavernous halls of the manor, he couldn't imagine any laughter in this place. He'd been here four days and heard about what was supposed to be his life and the more he heard, the less he could really believe it. It sounded like a movie or something. He'd just began exploring the place yesterday, starting with the rooms Alfred had thought would be most useful :the kitchen, a nearby living room (there were several such dens and parlors) and the butler's own rooms. Today he was moving about unassisted. He'd explored a lot of the downstairs, finding an indoor pool, a ballroom, and even a home theater. Nothing was tacky, but it was all luxurious to the point Dick felt like a bum in his sweatpants and t-shirt. He was thinking about tackling the second floor now, but he was not sure he was really up for stairs yet. That was when he saw the elevator tucked to one side. He stepped in and leaned against the wall while it took him to the second floor. The second floor was a little homier feeling than the first. There were no marble floors, but shining polished wood. He went down one wing, poking his head in open doors. There weren't many of those. He found an office and a guest bedroom. Nothing exciting. He went down the other wing and saw Bruce emerging from one of the rooms. He managed a smile even if he felt even less at ease with the man after touring the grandness of the house.
"Good morning."
"Good morning." Bruce replied, but he was frowning.
"Dick, did you at least take the elevator?"
"Yeah. Never seen an in house elevator before." Dick said then instantly regretted it as Bruce looked pained by this.
"I just wanted to see the upstairs."
"Do you feel well enough?"
"Yeah. I figure I can always find a place to sit when I get tired."
"Right. Well, I can show you around."
"Sounds good." Dick said even if he wasn't sure it was. It would be painful. Painful for Bruce when Dick didn't remember and painful for Dick because he felt like he disappointed his family (even if he didn't know them) everyday.
"Well, this is my room." Bruce said with a gesture behind him to the still open door, "And across the hall is your room." Bruce crossed the hall and opened the door. Dick obligingly followed him inside. The room had an interesting assortment of items that provided color and personality even if Dick did not recognize the personality. The area rug was old, but well maintained with a pattern involving the hues of a peacock, there was a green arm chair by an apparently old bookshelf, the bedspread was blue, and pictures on the wall of family, a framed pencil drawing of an elephant, and then over the bed a framed poster of his family. The Flying Graysons. That drew Dick to it as the only thing (besides the elephant drawing) familiar.
"I thought I lived in Bludhaven?" Dick asked. Why would he leave this here?
"You do, but Alfred keeps your room up here. All of your siblings have a room." Bruce said. Dick nodded, but was transfixed on the bright outfits the people wore on the poster. He could recall them glimmering under the lights as they soared through the air. When he managed to look back to Bruce, he immediately had to turn away from the man's hopeful expression. He didn't know the faces in the other picture frames. He didn't recognize all the things that must have been personal touches.
"Wow, I guess I liked bright colors huh?" He said, looking at an tiffany glass lamp on the desk.
"Yeah. Brighter the better."
"Huh." Dick felt his disconnect sharply now. This was supposed to be his space and none of it was.
"Dick?" Bruce asked with a gentle pat on his shoulder.
"Guess I'm more tired than I thought." Dick said.
"Then let's get you back downstairs."

However, once he was settled physically in the bed, his mind was definitely unsettled.
How was he supposed to stay here? Even if Bruce and Barbara said they would stay with him. Said they would rebuild these relationships. He knew everyday would be building what they used to have even if they could never actually have it back. Dick sighed and laid back down. This would never be home. He sat up suddenly. It didn't have to become his home though. Dick didn't remember it and he had a future ahead.