Bats in the Attic
Not so Easy

Easy…

Perhaps he shouldn't have underestimated the difficulty level of watching a toddler. The fact he underestimated the difficulty level – Dick Grayson wouldn't paint a picture of the evil toddler of doom others did, although Terry did have a habit of glaring at him, still mimicking Mary's reaction from the day before. He felt sure the child didn't like him; not only did Mary indicate displeasure the day before, but his presence also meant the child's father wasn't present.

The child simply kept staring, doing nothing as children did, or what Dick felt children did.

"You know, I'd have thought you'd be more active. I certainly was at that age." His head tilted, watching the boy, completely unsure of what he should do. Of course, there was Mary – Helena's schedule, which he didn't know what do with either, as he'd never had such a strict schedule, which he didn't know what to do with either, as he'd never had such a strict schedule in his life either. "Perhaps you shouldn't be comparing the life of a child in the circus to a child who's not?"

Dick titled his head, observing the child carefully, noting his dark hair and bright blue eyes. In the back of his mind, the boy definitely looked like his grandfather, which resulted in a sigh from Dick's own mouth. As he looked away, Terry let out a sigh, almost as if mimicking him. Turning his head back, he saw Terry's head turned away, almost as if the child were a mirror image of Dick Grayson. Dick tilted his head slightly. "Are you as bored as I am?"

Said toddler didn't respond and instead hugged onto his bat toy which Dick guessed was the child's favorite toy. He took in a deep breath, wrapping his mind around why he'd ever agreed to become a nanny of all things when the child ignored his existence. He let out a deep breath, mentally reminding himself he didn't have any other choice once he came back to Gotham, a place which felt so unfamiliar, he wondered why he'd even returned.

"Because you wanted to see Bruce. You wanted to see the man who raised you after your parents died to see how he was doing even though things aren't right between you. You want things to be right between you even though you don't know what went wrong between the two of you."

Another voice in the back of his head remained less optimistic. "That's a lie. You came back because you were lonely. You were looking for something among your things which was linked to some kind of connection with anyone – anyone other than Bruce because you can't face him because you can't face what you've done wrong. If you were willing to face what you've done, you would actually remember all those things you have forgotten."

"Uh." The sudden grunt and glare from the toddler made Dick notice Terry watching him, almost as if he were sharing in his gloom, yet keeping the death glare he'd inherited from his mother affixed to his small facial features."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Dick let out a laugh, gently reaching out for the child. Lifting Terry up into the air resulted in a cacophony of squeals of delight, but when he stopped, the smile on the child's face stopped. He continued glaring at Dick while Dick smiled down at the child. "Aren't you quite particular?"

Terry let out another sound while attempting to wiggle out of Dick's grip, his small hands reaching for the ground while he dropped the bat toy which resulted in an angry sound resulting from the toddler. "Down."

Dick lifted Terry up into the air, temporarily distracting the child from attempting to wiggle out of his arms which in turn would result in the child injuring himself. The child let out squeals of delight despite still wiggling slightly. "Well, it looks like you enjoy flying. I don't remember a time when I wasn't flying in some manner. Even when I took off…"

He flew. At first, he didn't fly like he used to, simply using the motorcycle as a substitute, yet now he could perform many if not all of the stunts he could before he ended up injured in the hospital. His mind drifted back toward Mary – Helena's – list. Terry let out a sound of disappointment when the flying stopped; the toddler also returned to glaring at Dick. Dick decided on glaring back, watching the child's mouth form a circle in confusion which only made Dick burst into laughter.

The sound of the door opening distracted him, making Dick turn his head so he saw someone enter through the door. An older woman he didn't recognize stepped into the room, a pair of keys jangling from her hand. A sour look plastered her face, yet Terry started wiggling again. "Down!"

Dick cleared his throat, attempting to hold onto Terry. "Um, hello. Who are you?"

"You're not Warren. Where…"

He wished the woman would answer his question of who they were instead of him answering her question when Terry answered the question for him. "Grammy!"

"Where's Warren?"

"At work, mam."

"Don't mam me! I'm not that old."

"Um…"

"Don't um me as well. Who are you and what are you doing in my son's apartment?"

"I'm the person hired to watch Terry."

"Grammy!" Terry obviously wanted the woman's attention, his mouth twisting into a large smile while his feet kicked in excitement, almost as if putting him down would result in the child speeding over to his grandmother. The lack of energy the toddler showed just a few minutes earlier was definitely a ball of energy.

"That brat?"

Dick's eyes blinked. "Wait."

Mentally, he didn't understand why the woman would call her grandson a brat, particularly when Terry hadn't done anything bratty just yet, although – the fact he suddenly turned into a ball of energy might explain something. Instead, the woman gave an explanation. "That child is not my grandson."

Dick took a deep breath, eyeing the woman carefully. He watched her glare at Terry, yet now he wondered if she was the childcare service that fell through the day before, given her negative attitude towards the boy. Her eyes suddenly focused on him. "Wait, are you his father?"

"What?"

"He looks like you."

"He looks like his grandfather."

"I thought Mary's father wasn't in her life."

"He's not."

"Are you sure you're not lying to me?"

"Um."

"Um isn't proper speech."

"Sorry, but perhaps Warren could feel you in a little more regarding my situation and why he's helping me out by giving me the job watching Terry?"

The woman glared at him, making him think he'd said the wrong thing. He also flinched, one of his eyes twitching slightly. "You make it sound like he hired some stranger off the street to watch that whore's child."

"You know, given the fact you're using that kind of language in front of a child, perhaps you shouldn't lecture me about that, let alone the fact I kept using the word 'um' a lot. Warren didn't say anything about you stopping by, but I don't think you're on the schedule."

"That schedule. I likely know more about raising a child than that…"

"Don't use that word in front of a child."

"Grammy! Grammy, grammy, grammy!"

Dick looked down at Terry. "Well, despite the fact you don't like him, he certainly likes you. You shouldn't be that way towards your grandson."

"He's not my grandson."

Dick glared at the woman. "What? Because Warren's not, or so you suspect, Terry's biological father?"

"Grammy!"

"Yes."

"Just because he's not Terry's biological father – and I'm not saying that's true…"

"He looks nothing like my son."

"He looks like his grandfather, but as I was saying, if – if what you say is true is true, that doesn't mean Warren isn't Terry's father."

"What would you know about that?"

"I…" Dick paused. "Am I grateful to the man who raised me in place of my biological father." The answer was yes, although yes didn't change the fact he felt he'd done something to disappoint the man. "I was raised by someone who wasn't by biological parents after they died. He's still my father, but so's my biological father. Plus, Terry's a little kid."

"I'm going to call Warren."

"Yeah, I think…" Dick pointed to the schedule, thinking there was something on the list he needed to get to. He didn't understand how someone as nice as Warren could be related to a woman so – mean. In the back of his head, another thought crossed his mind. "Did I ever call Bruce's father like he deserved to be called? How much did I mess up with him?"