Title: Fitting In / Part 2 of 2
Author: Simon
Characters: Dick/Bruce/Alfred-the usual
Rating: PG
Summary: Newly arrived at the Manor and the new kid in school, Dick tries to fit in
Warnings: none
Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.
Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.
Feedback: Hell, yes. In
Part Two
"Yes, Saturday around ten would be fine, Mrs. Hanson. Would you like me to pick up Alex? It's no problem."
"That's kind of you, Mr. Wayne, but I can drop him off while I'm doing errands in the morning. We'll see you in the morning, then."
Hanging up the phone, the woman turned to her husband, reading the paper at the other end of the couch. "Well, that was unexpected. Bruce Wayne just asked Alex over to his place for a play date with that boy he adopted a month or so ago."
"Bruce Wayne?"
"Bruce Wayne."
"Called here?…Huh. Let me know if his place is as fancy as they say it is. And count the naked women, will you?"
"I'll see if I can bring back a couple for you."
"Master Dick, you have a young gentlemen coming over in the morning, have you given any thought as to how you would like to entertain him?"
"What?"
Alfred gave a disappointed sight. "We do not say 'what'. We say 'I beg your pardon' or 'Excuse me?'"
Dick managed to restrain from rolling his eyes, but barely. "Excuse me?"
"One of your classmates, a young man named 'Alex' is expected at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. I take it you weren't aware of the arrangements?"
"Whose idea was this? Yours or Bruce's?"
"It was my understanding that it was a collaboration between the two of you, was it not?"
"It was his idea, not mine."
Alfred sat down on Dick's bed, next to the child. "I see. Would you prefer if the young man did not come tomorrow?"
"I don't care." Clearly he cared very much.
"I see. Well, since the young man has already been invited, it would be rude to not attempt to show him a good time. Maybe we could find a way to cut the visit short should you wish to do so. Perhaps we could arrange a signal of some sort?"
"Like what?"
"If you wish Alex to leave, you could find me and ask for, say, brownies and then I'll recall a dentist appointment you're late to and we'll arrange to drop Alex off on the way."
"But that's lying."
"Well, yes it is."
Dick seemed uncomfortable with the idea. "I guess he can just stay as long as he's supposed to. It's not too long, is it?"
"I believe that the arrangements were left open, but I'd think the assumption was that he'd be staying at least through lunch."
"…Okay." There was a pause. "Alfred? Do you think that maybe I could go over to his house instead?"
"Well, that wasn't the agreed upon arrangement. Is there some reason?"
"…This pace is kinda…"
Yes, it was. "I see your point and I shall inquire, Master Dick."
At ten the next morning, after a phone call to the Hanson's who had no problem with the change of the play date to their home, Bruce delivered Dick to the nice enough but hardly imposing split level on the far side of town. The house was identical to the houses on either side of it, varying only in color and landscaping and sitting on what was probably a quarter of an acre.
"Dick, how nice that you could come over this morning—Alex, why don't you show him you room, all right? Mr. Wayne? Would you like a cup of coffee? I just made some fresh."
He didn't, but was afraid to leave Dick here on his own. Sure, probably nothing would happen, but just in case… "I'd love one, thank you, Mrs. Hanson."
"Diane, please, Mr. Wayne."
"And I'm Bruce."
They were sitting at the laminated kitchen table a few minutes later… "Well, of course the school is expensive, but we looked into the local public schools and they're just not very good. I seriously considered Crest Hill Catholic, but I'm not happy with Mother Superior over there—maybe I shouldn't say that—but St. Patrick's just seemed to be the best of the local choices. I suppose that's why you decided to send Dick there, as well, right?"
"Yes, I thought so, as well. Dick was raised catholic, so I thought about sending him to the local parochial schools, but I didn't think he'd be happy there and I'd gone to St. Patrick's myself so I was familiar with it."
"Oh, of course, I guess I knew you'd been brought up around here. We just moved in two years ago when Tom got his job as assistant manager at Home Depot over on Rt. 53. You know the one—the one with the big garden center attached to it."
Bruce had passed it, though he'd never had a reason to go in. They heard the sound of boys arguing coming from upstairs. Exchanging a look, the two adults headed up.
They were glaring at each other. "What's going on here?"
"He said I'm stupid." Dick looked like he was about to take a swing.
"Did not. I said you were a 'tard."
"Alex!"
"He's never even played Sega and he doesn't know who Laura Croft is and he's a 'tard."
"I wasn't allowed to play computer games because they're a stupid waste of time and you're stupid if you don't know how dumb they are."
"Yeah, and swinging on a stupid trapeze is so smart."
"It's more than you can do, asshole."
"Dick! That's enough. Diane, I'm sorry. Young man—apologize right now and then you're going straight home. "
"Mr. Wayne, maybe if Dick came out back he could show us some of the things he can do. I'm sure it's a lot more complicated than you think it is, Alex. Dick, would you mind showing us a little of what you can do? I know I'd love to see it if you don't mind."
"On a swing set?" Dick spoke with the distain of a teenager, despite his age.
"Well, no, honey. I thought that maybe you'd be comfortable on a trampoline; do you think you might like to do some things on a tramp? I know back when I was a cheerleader, we used to practice jumps and flips and things on the one we had at school—I thought maybe you did the same thing."
"Well, yeah…" He looked at Bruce who was still glaring from his comment to Alex. "I mean, yes, we did.
"Come on, then."
"You'll probably break your leg."
"Alex!"
In the backyard, Bruce was surprised to see a trampoline set up, about twelve by fourteen feet and looking like the real deal—seemingly well constructed and significantly more sturdy than the usual backyard set ups.
"Why don't you warm up first?"
Dick already had his shoes off and easily flipped himself up onto the surface. In seconds he had reached height and was starting a series of front and back flips, a minute or two of that and he was throwing pikes and layouts with twists and seemingly perfect form. Alex was staring, impressed and looking like he wished he knew how to do that. From there he moved on to doubles and was starting on triples when Diane glanced over at Bruce. His face held what looked like a combination of awe and annoyance.
He knew the boy was good. Bruce obviously knew he was a professional, but he somehow hadn't realized he was this good. Even after seeing the Grayson's family act, he'd not fully understood just how really talented Dick was. Somehow that side of Dick had been overshadowed by the immediate grief and loss they were all dealing with, along with the legalities of gaining guardianship and getting him settled into a new home and a new school. The fact that, despite his age, he was a professional athlete well used to performing had been shoved aside. But, circus background or not, it was still tacky to show off like this—he'd let it go this time, but he had to learn...
Dick finally stopped, a little reluctantly, and flipped himself off the edge of the tramp, landing right in front of the three others. "Thank you, Mrs. Hanson, that was really fun." His smile was real and it occurred to Bruce that it might be the first time he'd seen Dick look really happy—face flushed, hair tousled and just plain flat out happy.
"That was awesome!" Alex seemed to have revised his opinion of the new kid. He may be a rube, but he could throw some killer moves. Wait till the kids heard about this—and his father, or whatever he was, was this really rich guy even his mom thought was cool. Jeez Louise. Maybe they'd even let the kid sit with the regulars in the lunchroom.
"Hey, Bruce, could we maybe get a tramp? I mean…" Dick stopped, his voice trailing off in embarrassment. Trampolines cost money and he knew better than to ask for things. His Mom would have talked his ear off for that and his Dad would have really have been mad. They always took care of their own; they weren't charity cases.
"Of course we can. I'll order one this afternoon and we'll put it right in the…"
"No…I mean, it's okay. It's…I mean I don't need one or anything." He boy deflated. "They're expensive and it's not like I need to keep up the routines or anything." As elated he'd been a minute before, he was that down thinking he'd overstepped. If he'd done that with his parents, he'd be in bed with no supper and lecture about his manners. His mom used to call it having the 'gimmies'. She really didn't like it.
Suddenly it was awkward until Alex's mother tried to break the tension. "Dick, honey, you can come over any time you'd like to use this one, all right? That's a promise."
Eyes down, he thanked her, the adults both knowing he'd never call.
Bruce broke the still strained moment. "Tell you what, who's hungry?" Both boys looked at him, Alex with more interest than Dick who seemed close to tears. "Mrs. Hanson? What do you say we order some pizza?"
"Alex, did you tell Mr. Wayne that pizza's your favorite?"
"Mom!" God, parents were so embarrassing. "Pepperoni with extra cheese?"
"You got it."
That seemed to lighten the mood with the others while Dick just seemed to suck it up in a conscious decision and, thank God, after the food was ordered the boys got along better, easier, seeming to have more to talk about. Alex showed Dick how a Sega worked while Bruce and Diane chatted in the kitchen while they ate and as she cleaned up the paper plates and napkins. She was privately surprised that he didn't have someplace he had to be or something more interesting to deal with than an afternoon with a housewife and a couple of kids. He was sweet, really and obviously concerned about the poor boy, keeping an ear listening for problems from the family room. Diane was surprised thinking that he wasn't the vapid idiot she'd been told by her better connected friends to expect. It took a bit of an adjustment to realize the man not only had a brain in his head, but also seemed to genuinely care about Dick.
"How long has he been living with you?"
"About three weeks now. I guess we're all still adjusting…"
"He's a darling little boy, Mr. Wayne…"
"Bruce, please."
"Bruce. He really is. He just…" She stopped. It was all too obvious. "You know."
"Yes, I do. And I'll order a tramp as soon as we get home."
"He'd like that." Bruce caught a glimpse of Dick listening at the edge of the kitchen door, disappearing as soon as he caught the boy's eye.
In the car on the ride back to the Manor Dick was quiet, looking out the window until, "I'm sorry about asking for a tramp. I don't need anything like that so could you please forget I even said anything?"
Bruce was about to protest that he'd like to get one, that it wasn't much money and they had plenty of room, but stopped himself. Maybe it would be better to wait for Christmas or something. "No harm done, Dick. And I'm not at all angry with you; so don't worry, all right? In fact, I'm counting on you to let me know if there're things we could use around the place—give me the advantage of a new pair of eyes, you know. I've been living there so long I forget that the place needs an update now and then. Help me out if you notice something, will you?"
Dick looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Yeah, sure." Like that would ever happen.
"So you and Alex seemed to warm up to one another there. Would you like to have him over to the house next weekend or something?"
"I guess."
"…Well, let's plan on it, shall we?"
"Sure." They were at the house, the car stopped by the front door. "Um, do you need me for anything?"
"I thought we could spend some more time together, but if you have something to do, we can make it later."
"Thanks, Bruce. Later, okay?" Getting out and going inside, Dick quickly headed straight out to the garden, taking to the footpaths through the woods. He would do this fairly often when he seemed to want to either think or just be alone. Somehow Bruce didn't know about it and Alfred seemed to realize the boy had to sort things out for himself. Hours later, when he came back, he appeared to have somehow regained the good mood he'd seemingly left at the Hanson's, apologizing again for asking for a tramp and changing the subject when Bruce tried to go back to it. Hoping no real harm had been done, Bruce pushed the incident to the back of his mind, choosing to focus on the good news that Dick might have found a small circle of boys he could be friendly with.
A few weeks went by with things looking up, as far as Bruce and Alfred could tell. Dick went over to a few other boy's homes after school or on weekends and even had three boys over to swim, causing Alfred to comment to Bruce that it had been a long time since he'd heard shrieks of laughter in the house. He was smiling when he said it.
It wasn't all clear sailing, there were several episodes where Dick would decide he'd rather skip a birthday party or invitation to the movies, but after a few successful outings his fears seemed to be largely laid to rest and he would usually accept when the calls came in.
He had a group of kids to eat lunch with now, as well and was really starting to thrive at both the school and at home. Bruce and Alfred seemed to breathe sighs of relief to see the change. Dick's real personality, the outgoing, effervescing side was showing itself more and more often. His sense of humor, less than subtle though it may have been, was coming out daily and he seemed to have put the tragedy behind him—at least on a day-to-day basis.
Yes, there were still nightmares and he'd missed a couple of days of school because he'd simply been too tired to get up, but it didn't happen often. He also spoke to Leslie at least once a week, usually over fast food, and she also seemed to think that progress was being made, though he wasn't home free yet by any means.
And Bruce had started his training, which was helping as well. He hadn't quite told the boy about being the Bat, but he'd hinted that there might be something they could do together to catch the bad people who had hurt Dick's parents.
That, more than anything, gave the child focus and he would beg to be allowed to work longer, harder, to do whatever was needed.
On Thursday, like every Thursday, Alfred drove Dick to the Thomas Wayne Clinic for his weekly chat with Leslie Thompkins and Bruce had wondered more than once if Alfred's willingness to make the drive to that rough a section of town was because he would see the good doctor, not that he'd ever ask or Alfred would ever volunteer, of course.
He parked the car as close to the main door as he could, made sure the youngster was safely in then made himself comfortable to wait with a good book. Leave one of the Master's automobiles unattended on this sort of street? Hardly.
"So, Dick I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me with an errand this week?"
"What errand, Dr. Leslie?" He'd quickly come to love the woman, loved her no-nonsense ways and her direct way of dealing with things. He loved that she always gave him a warm hug hello and goodbye and that whatever he said to her was promised not to ever go further, no matter how bad it might be.
"I've been dying for some ice cream and everyone here is too busy to go with me. How about being my date this afternoon?"
Dick laughed—he knew she was teasing and he liked it a lot when she did that. She was pretty much the only person who would and he missed it. His father had teased him and his mother all the time.
"So, what's going on this week, hmmm? Did that play date with Alex and Tim work out?"
"It was okay." He was licking his chocolate chip mint cone, Leslie was carefully spooning some strawberry up to her mouth. "Did you all have a good time? What did you end up doing?"
"We went swimming—have you ever seen Bruce's pool? It's gigantic. And then Alfred let us go into the pool house and make our own sundaes and put all the sauce and stuff on them—as much as we wanted."
"Alfred let you do this?" She smiled at Dick. "You either cast a spell or this isn't the Alfred I'm used to." Dick laughed again; he really liked Dr. Leslie. "How about school? Is that any better now that you've had some time to get used to it?"
He shrugged. "The work is really easy and the teacher is pretty nice, but some of the kids still call me 'Elephant Boy'. I don't like it."
"So what do you do when they call you names?"
"I punched this one kid—Jesse." He looked up quickly to see her reaction but she seemed calm enough.
"What happened?"
"We had to go to the principal's office and he talked to us for a while. No big deal. He said not to do it again and now the stupid kids pretty much leave me alone."
"Probably because you don't take anything from them. What did Bruce say?"
"…He doesn't know. You aren't going to tell him, are you?" He knew she had promised, but this was really bad and…
"What Bruce doesn't know won't hurt him just this once, but you're not going to make a habit of it, are you?" He shook his head. He really wouldn't. "Good." She was still neatly working on her two scoops and Dick was licking his hand where it had dripped. She took a handful of napkins and wrapped them around the cone. It was a stopgap effort at best. They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the other people come and go.
"Dr. Leslie?"
"Hmmm?"
"How long will I keep having nightmares?"
She didn't bat an eye. "I'm not sure, dear. I think it may be for a long time. Are they still as bad as they were at first?" He nodded. Well, she could prescribe something, but she'd really rather not if he could do without.
"Sometimes I'm afraid to go to sleep." His voice was so quiet she could hardly hear him.
"Sweetheart, I think that when you start feeling more comfortable living with Bruce and Alfred, when you find friends you really like and when the police catch the bad men, well, I think that's when they'll start getting better."
The child nodded. He knew that without being told, he was just hoping for a different answer. "Can I keep seeing you?"
"May I. And I'd be disappointed if you don't. You're one of my special favorites. I hope you come to visit me for a very long time." She put her hand on his cheek, causing him to lean into the caress just a bit.
"I will. I promise I'll always visit you."
After another six weeks and near the end of the school year, Bruce had a second meeting with Gwen Connors at Dick's school. This time things went better than before.
"I'm so glad you could meet me today, Mr. Wayne, please take a seat." He was dressed more casually this afternoon than he had been the last time they'd met. Instead of an obviously expensive suit, he was in a good pair of slacks and a black long sleeved tee, probably cashmere. There was no getting around the fact that he was an exceptionally handsome man with an imposing physical presence that Gwen tried her best to ignore. "I can't tell you how pleased I am at the progress that Dick has made in the last month or so—it's remarkable after everything the poor thing has gone through and you deserve quite a large share of the credit."
"Oh my goodness, that's kind of you to say, but Alfred deserves credit as well. He's practically become a second mother to Dick. They were baking cookies last night—chocolate chip—Dick seems to like them when they're right out of the oven, you know when they're still all hot and sort of soft and gooey? And, gosh, you should just see the two of them together—it just makes me smile to think about it!"
God, vapid as ever. "Yes, well, his school work is really coming along and I'm pleased at how well he seems to be adjusting to the classroom routine. I think that was difficult for him to get used to."
"Golly, I would think that would be tough for the poor kid. I mean, he's used to living in a circus, you know, and then to have to move into that big old house with just Alfred and me? It was a pretty big change for him, you know?"
"Yes, I do know, Mr. Wayne. I also have noticed that he seems to have made some friends with the boys in his grade—this is good news."
"So, I guess everything's all right now? That's great to hear and I really can't thank you enough, Mrs. Connors. I really can't! I have to tell you, I've been pretty worried about him—after everything the little guy's been through, well, I was really pretty concerned that he'd maybe be upset for really long time about everything."
"There's no need for thanks, Mr. Wayne, and whether he shows it or not, I'm sure that Dick will be upset for quite a while—the lost of his parents will likely never be completely behind him. Forgive me, but you need to understand this."
"Oh, I do, I really do. I mean, I lost my parents when I was about Dick's age, and I really understand what he's going through. Really, I do."
Dear God, he was a moron. "I'm terribly sorry for your loss, Mr. Wayne, but I'm sure that helps you to understand what he's dealing with—and what he will continue to be dealing with as he gets older. But I must say, teaching is my job and Dick is such a sweet little boy that it's a pleasure to see him come into his own a bit."
"He is a nice kid, isn't he? I never met his parents, but from what I've heard, they were really nice people so it stands to reason that Dick would be a nice kid, you know?"
"Yes, I do know."
"Well then, is there anything I can do, maybe to help Dick at home or something? He seems to be just great right now but if there's anything you can suggest, I'd really like to hear it."
"I'd say keep doing what you're doing and pay a lot of attention when he talks to you."
He glanced at a watch that had likely cost her year's salary and stood up. "I sure will and thanks for everything. I mean it—everything!"
Leaving the building, Bruce checked his watch again. Four-thirty. The thing should be installed by now, but he wanted to get back to make sure it met his criteria. It all had to be just right.
As soon as he got home he checked in at the kitchen to see if Dick was home yet to have Alfred tell him at the boy was having dinner then seeing a film with the young Master Alex Hanson and was expected home around nine-thirty. Seeing the raised eyebrow, Alfred added that the children had no school the next day morning due to in school training for the teachers
"Have the workmen finished?"
"Almost, sir. I assume you wish to check on their progress?"
"Of course." He walked through to the gym. His own things, or most of them, were rearranged to make room for two new items. In addition to the weights and the punching bag, fitted in with the parallel bars and the vaulting and pommel horses and high bar was a large top of the line trampoline and two trapeze bars twenty feet above the ground. They weren't really up to the standards Dick was used to, but they'd do for now. In a few months when Bruce knew for certain if he really was the right partner, then they could install a larger set down in the cave where the ceiling was high enough.
If and when Dick saw the cave, that was.
Dick had rarely been to this part of the house, having been told that it was a private area, though that had largely been simply so he wouldn't hurt himself if he should wander in on his own. With supervision, he should be fine—I fact, he should be able to teach Bruce a thing or two unless he missed his bet. With these pieces of equipment added, he could feel at home and Bruce would make sure he was safe. He'd supervise the boy's workouts, teach him a few things and make sure his instincts were right about what Dick was capable of.
But he was sure he was right.
Dick was the one.
Bruce had been thinking about this for a while with no definite plans or any real thoughts about how he'd go about this—or if he even should. But with Dick living in his home and now that he'd seen what kind of a kid he was, what he could do, how bright and willing he was and how much he wanted to see his parent's murderer's brought in, well, just about all of Bruce's questions were answered.
He'd start with the physical training to make sure he had the needed attention span and dedication. After that he'd add the rest of it; the computer work, the forensics, the reasoning and training the boy's powers of observation.
When he was ready, Dick would play a central part if bringing in his parent's killers.
This was what was missing for Dick; closure about the Grayson's deaths and this, in time should provide it and after they'd put the case to rest, then—
Okay, what then?
Well, it would depend on Dick, on what he wanted, on how it all worked out.
Bruce was still not completely comfortable with the thought of a child, even one as precocious as Dick, in the path of danger—but if it gave him direction, if it helped him…and it could be helpful to have another pair of eyes watching his back—so long as he obeyed orders and paid attention, that is. They would have to come up with an alias and a costume the boy liked, of course and he'd have to understand that his being involved in crime fighting was tied to his grades and behavior, but he should be all right with that, he was a smart kid.
But that was the stumbling block—he was a kid. He couldn't have the maturity; the perspective to understand at this wasn't just a big game of cops and robbers. But with time, with the right training and with Bruce to guide him, well, it could work and if it didn't, if he was too young, too impetuous and became a liability to himself or to the work then Bruce would put a quick stop to it.
In fact, that would be one of the conditions: he'd have to obey orders, keep his grades up and all of that. He'd simply have to, no question.
Alfred was opposed, of course, but he'd come around. He'd see the benefits and now that Dick was established in school, now that he had some friends o fall back on and to have normal play time with…
The new equipment looked fine and an hour later Bruce was in his study going over the usual bills when Dick ran in, out of breath and red cheeked from being outside.
"Hey, Bruce, Alfred said you wanted to see me about something?"
Bruce gave the child a small smile. "Do you remember how I said that one of these days we'd get you started on some serious work?"
Dick's blue eyes, his most arresting feature, went a bit wider. "Yeah?"
"Come on, I have something to show you…"
The moment Bruce opened the door to the gym Dick's entire demeanor changed from childish excitement to an almost detached professional assessment of the layout and quality of the equipment. He ran his hands over the bars and springs, tested the mats with a look of intense concentration on his face and finally nodded his head. "This will work."
"We'll start with physical training, though you should be up to speed as far as that's concerned fairly quickly. Then we'll add other academic things so that you'll be able to understand and use the information we'll be going after."
"Then we catch the people who killed my parents."
"We'll do what we can, yes."
"We'll catch them." Dick stated it as a fact. "And after we do that, we'll work together, right?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're not doing all of this as a one time deal, are you? After we get the men who killed my Mom and Dad, then we'll work together on other things, too—right?"
"Well, we'll see how it goes, shall we? We don't have to make any decisions right now. This is the first step, you know."
Dick looked at him with impatience. "After they're in jail, we'll work together." He hopped up on the side horse like a kid would hop up on a kitchen counter, sitting with his legs dangling down. "I know about you. I figured it out."
"…Excuse me?"
Dick gave him a steady look, almost a challenge. "About a month ago I was in the living room looking for my shoes and the grandfather clock was moved a little so I went over to look at it. I pushed it out of the way and went downstairs. I know who you are, Bruce."
Bruce stared at the boy.
"It's okay. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone, but I think it's pretty cool. You're Batman and I'm going to be your helper, right? I figured you'd get around to telling me pretty soon." He put his hands on the pommels and started some easy swings, talking while he moved. "Alfred knows, too, I guess. You know what? I think this could be a really neat thing—you and me working together. We can catch bad guys and stuff. That's what you were thinking about, right?"
Covering the fact that the kid had caught him surprised and flatfooted, Bruce tried a cover. "If you work hard enough, yes—but you have to listen to me, obey me and do exactly what I say, do you understand? That's the only way this will work."
Dick was up in a handstand on the pommels. "Yeah, sure." He pushed off into a flip and landed at Bruce's feet, looking up with an eight-year-old smart-ass grin. "Hey, someday, do you think I could meet Superman?"
7/11/05
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