Note: So, I'm obviously updating this story again. Sorry for the long wait. Like I said before, this version is a little tamer than my other version. Dick still has his troubles, though. Thanks to Rollerparty for reminding me to update this one! :)

Midnight – office of Greg Makov:

Bruce had decided that Batman was going to find out where Greg had placed Dick. Alfred had advised against it but Batman had broken into social services before. It would not be difficult to find the information since he knew it had to be in Greg's office, and that would make it a quick visit.

So here he was at midnight, in the office of Greg Makov. The information wasn't on the man's desk or in one of its drawers, where the hero had expected it to be. Batman opened the file cabinet behind Greg's desk and pulled out the thick file of Richard John Grayson. He opened it, and his eyes widened.

Susan had kept very good tabs on Dick. She had notes from almost every month of his life with Bruce Wayne. There were some pictures of Dick at school and, apparently, she had been at field day. In the photo from that day, the boy was in the middle of his tumbling run. He began reading through her notes, which were dated but not placed in chronological order.

'Dick in hospital – why?' 'Dick talking to Batman?' 'Dick is an impressive tumbler.' 'Wayne actually came to field day!' 'Why does Dick's hair have a dark stripe on the side? Are they dying his hair?!'

The last note was from the day Batman had received proof about Jerkins from the Bat-camera in Dick's classroom. She must have been outside the school, watching him get on the bus, and had noticed but not recognized the dried blood on his head.

'Dick's a bully; didn't expect that.' 'Mercer says he has to expel, no surprise, Wayne probably doesn't teach him respect.' 'Interviewed a friend, Dirk Grimhall. Boy says Dick is jealous of Michael, Dirk's older brother.' 'Mayor Linseed letting the poor child stay with Wayne. Commissioner Gordon must have been very convincing.'

And then, finally, a much longer note in a different style of writing:

'Placed Dick with nice family. Scared of detention center, with good reason. Said Susan was going to put him there last year? Check that out. Kent said Susan slapped Dick? And that Wayne has video. Have to check that. Dr. Thompkins obviously treated gunshot wound, knew everything about it, paperwork was all in order. Both she and Kent are positive that Wayne didn't do it. Dick misses Wayne and Pennyworth, Lisa currently holding him in her lap while he cries for them. Begin investigation immediately. Poor kid….'

A nice family, Dick was with a nice family. But who? And how long had his bright light cried for him, how long was Makov going to torture Dick like this? At least the man was going to do some fact-checking. Bruce needed to make sure that video was ready to play.

With a sigh because he had no clues as to where Dick had been placed, Batman closed the folder and put it back. A social worker wouldn't say 'a nice family' unless he had experience with them. Makov was good at his job and obviously felt bad for Dick. Perhaps the investigation would go quicker than any of them expected.

Midnight – house of Jasper and Matilda Dunston:

Dick was wide awake. The Dunstons had pretty much ignored him, except at dinner time. Jasper had asked him if he liked raw hamburger then had laughed at Dick's expression of disgust. Matilda had jokingly scolded Jasper before laying a very well-done hamburger on Dick's plate. After that exchange, it was as if he wasn't even there.

He had offered to do the dishes but Matilda was the kind of woman who wanted everything done in a certain way so she had declined. Receiving such an offer wasn't something she was used to, apparently, because she had looked very surprised.

After dinner the Dunstons had gone straight back to watching television. Dick had wandered around a little but there wasn't much to see. He had been shown pretty much everything during the tour.

Jasper had finally noticed him leaning against the wall by the toys. He had immediately told Dick to go to bed…at 6:30. So, Dick had gone to bed. And had been lying on the thin excuse for a mattress ever since then.

Wishing he was back in Wayne Manor, the ten-year-old rolled over onto his stomach and eventually fell asleep.

The Batcave – ten o'clock in the morning:

Batman was in the Batcave, using the Batcomputer to search for any tiny hint of Dick's location. He was simultaneously running the Bat-camera Receiving Machine and the Bat-hacking Machine, which was flicking through images from city cameras. Descriptions of both Dick and Greg Makov had been entered into those machines, narrowing the search. But, so far, nothing.

The Manor phone rang and Alfred picked it up, answering professionally as he always did. He hummed a sound of agreement and then frowned.

"Are you certain, Mr. Makov? Don't you want to complete this as soon as possible?"

Alfred listened carefully and then, when he heard a dial tone, slammed the phone down.

"Apparently, Mr. Makov doesn't work on weekends, sir," he stated angrily. "His investigation will begin on Monday."

"WHAT?!" Batman exploded. "That's ridiculous!" he shouted.

"I agree, Master Batman," Alfred replied calmly, "but there is nothing we can do about it. So, let's continue our search, sir."

The butler was angry, almost as angry as Batman. But he was also supposed to be the calming influence to a volatile hero. Somehow, he was able to keep his voice steady even while wishing he could knock Mr. Makov into unconsciousness.

The Dunston's house – seven o'clock in the morning:

After a restless seven hours of sleep, Dick woke up. Jasper was up first and had already made breakfast. The scrambled eggs were delicious, and Dick timidly complimented the chef, but Jasper completely ignored the words. Matilda, when she came out ten minutes later, also paid no attention to the ten-year-old boy sitting right next to her.

"Mrs. Dunston?" Dick asked quietly.

"What," she sighed in exasperation.

"Um, can I take a shower? I was in the hospital and I didn't have a chance…"

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

"Uh, okay, thanks. So, where do I…?"

"Use the bathroom sink, kid," Jasper jumped in. "We're each going to take a shower, too, so you can't use ours."

"Oh, um, okay," Dick whispered.

"But first," Matilda stated, "I want you to get some of that energy out. Go play in the backyard for a little while, soon as you're done with breakfast."

"Okay…"

"And be more polite," she interrupted.

"I…okay," the ten-year-old answered, not knowing how to be more polite than he had been.

The woman sighed again before explaining, "Use sir and ma'am. We're not your parents but we are taking care of you. Being polite to your elders means using sir and ma'am. Geez, where did you come from, a barn?"

With that, Matilda got up, grabbed both his plate and hers, and went to the sink to do the dishes.

"Out you go," Jasper commanded.

"Okay, um…sir?"

"Good job, little one," Matilda said approvingly. "I'll call you in for lunch. Have fun!"

There was nothing to do in the backyard so Dick wondered how they thought he could 'have fun'. Weeds, rocks, a bush, a hose and more weeds. Sticking his hands in his pockets, the boy wandered around a little. But it was hot, and ten minutes later he was sitting on the porch steps, hoping lunchtime would come soon.

Four hours later he was still sitting on the porch, waiting to be called in for lunch. There was no shade on the porch and Dick was hot and thirsty and hungry. However, he assumed that 'call you in for lunch' meant he was supposed to 'play' outside until one of the adults told him to come in. Which meant he shouldn't go inside without being called because it wouldn't be polite. And, obviously, Mr. and Mrs. Dunston wanted him to be polite.

Inside, the house was empty. The Dunstons, forgetting that Dick was even there, had gone to visit some friends.

Wayne Manor:

"What do you think he's doing right now, Alfred?"

"That's impossible to know, Master Bruce, but I'm sure he's fine. The note said a 'nice family'. He's probably reading a book, or playing, or running around outside."

"You're right, he's fine," Bruce murmured in response. "I just wish I knew for sure. What if he's so sad that he's just sitting in a chair doing nothing?"

"Sir, there's nothing we can do about it," the butler sighed. "We'll just have to wait out the two weeks and be strong for him when he returns."

"I know, but he must be so scared! It's almost the same thing that happened to him last year, only we didn't die!"

"Yes, Master Bruce, it is almost exactly the same."

"Torn away from the only family he knows and put in a house with complete strangers."

"Yes, sir."

"What if they have a pool?!"

"Master Dick can swim, sir."

"But accidents happen! What if they don't watch him?!"

"He is an excellent swimmer, Master Bruce."

"What if they have a trampoline and he jumps too high and falls off and breaks his neck? What if he climbs a tree and falls out and breaks his arm? What if they have a gun and he accidentally gets shot?!"

"Master Bruce," Alfred sighed again, "I'm sure they are responsible people who are taking very good care of him. Mr. Makov would not call them a 'nice family' if he had no prior experience with them, sir. As you have often said, it does no good to dwell on 'what ifs'."

"You're right," Bruce mumbled.

The Dunston's house:

When the sun was at its peak in the sky, Dick decided to knock on the door. He was a little bit dizzy – which he knew was a symptom of dehydration – and his stomach was yelling at him. So, he stood up and knocked. And knocked and knocked and finally tried turning the handle. It was locked.

Dick stood at the door, shock in his eyes. The Dunstons had locked him out! What did they expect him to do, eat the weeds?! Try to squeeze water out of the rocks?!

Three seconds later the kitchen door swung open. Jasper stared at Dick, his expression perplexed. Why was there a child standing on his porch?

The silence was overwhelmingly awkward so Dick decided to break it.

"Um, is it time for lunch? Sir?" he quickly added.

"Matilda?" the man called with a glance over his shoulder into the house.

"Oh, we for…Dick, why are you still out there?"

The transition had been slightly rough but Matilda had covered it well. Dick, however, lived with Batman and was not fooled. They had forgotten he was even there.

"You said you would call me in for lunch," he stated, his tone almost accusatory.

"And here we are, Jasper holding the door open and waiting for you to come in!" she declared, her tone sharp. "Let's go, you're letting the bugs in!"

Dick walked in and immediately sat down at the table. With a sigh of relief, he laid his head on the cool wood and hoped the woman would offer a drink.

"Get your sweaty head off the table, kid!" Jasper demanded. "Go rinse off in the bathroom; you're covered in dirt and sweat!"

The ten-year-old wanted to point out that he was currently in this state because they had forgotten him, but he got up and went to the bathroom without a word. It wasn't his fault it was hot and windy but they would probably think it was rude of him to explain it.

Five minutes later he was back at the table. Matilda placed a cup of water and a peanut butter sandwich in front of him.

"Thank you," he whispered before grabbing the cup and draining it.

"Excuse me?" the woman said, annoyed.

Dick immediately knew why so he tried again.

"Thank you, ma'am."

With a short, satisfied nod, Matilda returned to the sink to wash her hands. Jasper had disappeared and Matilda left as soon as she was done. Dick was alone again. He hated being alone. The usually energetic and chatty ten-year-old sat at the table, completely silent and miserable.

After ten minutes of wallowing in his misery, Dick became too bored to continue. He got up and put his plate in the sink then went to the laundry room. Jasper had said there were more books than toys so Dick was going to go look. The boy found the flashlight then walked to the basement door and opened it.

Ignoring the initial pang of fear, Dick flicked on the flashlight and went down the stairs. Darkness engulfed him, the dim circle of light his only guide. The bookshelf was on the far side; he had to walk all the way across the room through inky blackness. Just as he reached his destination, he heard:

"Jasper! You left the basement door open again!"

The door slammed shut, the flashlight flickered, and Dick's heart nearly jumped out of his chest. He raced toward the door, tripped over nothing, and his torso landed on the sharp steps. Gasps of air flew from his mouth as the wind was knocked out of him.

Dick tried to yell for Bruce but nothing came out. Then he remembered that no matter how loud he yelled for Bruce, the man wouldn't be able to hear. Bruce was at Wayne Manor and Dick was in a dark basement over an hour away.

The ten-year-old scrambled up the stairs, hoping that the door wasn't locked. Frantically, he twisted the handle and let out a giant sigh of relief when it easily opened.

"Dick!" Matilda exclaimed as he flew out of the basement. "I didn't know you were down there, you were so quiet!"

"I was…" the boy paused to gasp, "…looking at, uh, books. Ma'am."

"Oh, I'm sorry, hon. Jasper sometimes leaves that open and it's kind of drafty down there. Go ahead and go look, I'll leave the door wide open to give you a little more light."

"Um, no thanks," Dick replied. "I'm okay…"

"Go look at the books!" the woman demanded.

Startled at the tone, Dick quickly nodded and turned back toward the basement. Just then the flashlight flickered and went out.

"Batteries are in the cupboard in the laundry room," Matilda said with a shrug.

She left and Dick quietly closed the basement door. There was no way he was going down there again. At least, not today. He went to the laundry room, changed the batteries in the flashlight, and put it back where he had found it. Then, the ten-year-old went to his room and sat on the mattress.

Only two…

The thought was so depressing that he couldn't even finish it.

Wayne Manor – dinner time:

There was no little boy sitting at the table when Bruce strode into the room. He had known that was going to be the case, but he had allowed himself a tiny sliver of hope. Perhaps this had all just been a bad dream.

Dinner was already laid out but the man had no appetite. What if Dick wasn't happy with the 'nice family'? What if they didn't like him, so they ignored him? Bruce could see Dick sitting in a small bedroom, sad and lonely. The picture almost made him cry so the man tossed it out of his mind. Alfred was right – Dick was fine.

The Dunston's house – early evening:

Dinner had been the same as the breakfast and lunch. Once the food was in front of the boy, the adults had completely ignored him. They had talked over his head about all sorts of things: how the neighbor's old, sickly cat was doing; how poor Louisa was dealing with having her husband in the hospital; how that darn dog across the street kept waking them up at night, and other neighborhood conversation.

Dick had thought about offering to do the dishes just so they would realize he was there. But Matilda wanted things a certain way and it would be impolite to offer again. That's what he had assumed, anyway.

After dinner, the ten-year-old went to the toy area. He sat down by the lego box and built a small house. It took him five minutes because there were so few legos. Then he took that apart and built a trapeze platform. He took that apart and attempted to build the Batmobile but ended up doing the Bat-computer instead.

The night sky grew dark and Dick put the legos away. He stood up and went to the couch, only to find the Dunstons cuddled in each other's arms and snoring. Shaking his head, the boy went to his room and laid on his 'bed'. It was going to be another long night.