A/N: In this story, Dick Grayson is simply a name. It has no background, no Batman reference. Robin doesn't know anything about his past, and Bruce Wayne never cared for him or anything. In fact, he doesn't even exist (in this story, anyway).
Robin sat on his bed alone, thinking over the day. It was all pretty much a blur up until now. Now, all was clear. It was just a confused, mislead boy and his thoughts. The innermost part of his soul was vulnerable. His soul was weak, lying alone in an open field of thought, with no one to protect him, nothing to hide him from harm's way.
This was a strange state of thought. Usually he was very protected, usually he never let his guard down. But at this very moment he was completely open to any type of damage that came his way.
And he knew it, too. He knew that if anyone tried to break his heart, it wouldn't take much effort. But as to the reason why, he was completely unaware. Why didn't he just call?
He knew he should call. He knew should try to find out if there was someone out there that knew about him. About his past.
He knew he wanted to call. More than anything he wanted to call. He wanted to at least know if there actually was some one out there that knew about his past.
All his life he'd wondered. Wondered about who he was, who his family was, if there was anyone out there wondering about him. Now that he knew there was, or at least had good evidence as to why there would be, he wouldn't even call to find out for sure.
He knew all he needed to know. He knew who to call, he knew how to reach her, he knew he wanted to. Now all he needed to know was why he didn't.
His thoughts, as they so often were, were interrupted. This time by a knock on his door. "What?" he asked, a little annoyed at the intruder.
"Robin?" her simple request for his attention was ignored by him, for he didn't want to talk to anyone at the time. she walk in slowly, her step as graceful as a gliding feather and her stance as steady as the tick of the clock.
"Robin," she started, a little confused at what to say, "I am… worried. About you, and what happened today…"
She was cut off by his smile and nod of reassurance. "I'm ok, Star, really."
She didn't fully believe him, but she continued with a different subject anyway. "You should have something for dinner," she invited "There is the pizza awaiting your arrival downstairs." She said it with a slight piece of hope in her voice.
He let out a sigh of entertainment at the way she told him there was pizza for dinner. He loved the way she talked. It was like a foreign language to him, only he understood it. "No thanks, Star," he started. "I think I'll go out for dinner tonight."
She nodded and left the room. His eyes were stuck to the door for quite a while after she left, making sure no one was coming.
He sighed as he picked up the phone. Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to leave his friends? His responsibility? His life? "Oh, come on," he thought aloud, "I'm just going to meet her."
He dialed the number and waited as the line rang three times. "For now." He decided, uneasy.
"Hello?" came the response from the other side of the line. He choked. What would he say? What should he say? "HELLO?"
"Is… Tasha there?" he spit out.
"This is she, who's this?"
"This is… this Dick Grayson."