Thanks for the reviews sgtwist and OneAtHeart!
Dick was completely lost in thought. The teenager didn't even notice when his guardian began pacing beside him. So many emotions were rolling around inside him and he couldn't decide how he was supposed to be feeling. Scared? Confused? Miserable? Nervous?
"At least the headache is gone," he muttered.
"That's good."
The unexpected reply startled him and Dick immediately stopped pacing. He stared at the expressionless face of his guardian for several seconds.
"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled and abruptly raced away. He was on the far side of the Batcave before Bruce could even open his mouth to say anything.
The man frowned and began to follow. Alfred, however, held up his right hand to Bruce as he returned from the medical area. Bruce froze in his tracks as the older man walked over to the young boy, who was staring intently at the Batmobile.
"Master Dick," the butler stated, "I know this is hard for you but there is still so much you don't know. And there is something I need to explain, young sir. Master Bruce is not upset with you, he's irritated with himself. He is currently blaming himself…"
"Blaming himself?" Dick interrupted loudly. "There's no reason…it's not his fault I don't know who I am!"
"That's true, Master Dick, but he doesn't think like you do. He wasn't there to protect you from an attack and he can't make you instantly remember everything. It's frustrating for him because he's Batman."
"So…Batman is supposed to be perfect?"
With a slight grin, Alfred replied, "In his mind, yes. But to everyone else, he's supposed to protect those he cares about, which he does. The innocent, law-abiding citizens of Gotham City and, most of all…you."
Alfred paused to let that sink in. He was receiving no reaction at all, which was very unusual. It was also slightly concerning.
"Also, he's rather terrible at dealing with any emotions," the butler added in an attempt to lighten the mood.
A Robin-esque smirk danced at the edges of Dick's mouth when he glanced at the man on the other side of the room. Then he looked back at Alfred and frowned.
"We live in Goth…sorry, uh…"
"Gotham City, young sir."
"Am I as bad as he is with emotional stuff? I mean, do I get all broody and clench my jaw like that?"
Dick tilted his head toward his still-frozen-in-place guardian, who was attempting to hear the entire conversation while appearing to not be listening.
Alfred laughed. "No, Master Dick, you do not. Brooding is Batman's way of showing emotion. You, on the other hand, can hardly ever contain your emotions. You are light-hearted and love to laugh. You're sarcastic and witty and smart and one of only two people who can get Batman to genuinely smile."
"You being the other one," Dick commented with a grin.
"Didn't I say you were intelligent, young man?" Alfred confirmed with a wink. "Do you think we can continue our previous conversation?"
Nodding his head, Dick called, "Batman, um, I mean…shoot…"
The last word was an angry whisper and Alfred quickly supplied, "Bruce."
Dick glanced at the butler gratefully and tried again.
"Bruce, we can talk again, if you want."
Shaking his head ruefully – how was Alfred so good at that? – Bruce rejoined them and they all sat down again.
"Where were we?"
"You saved me from being beaten up by a bunch of criminally-minded kids."
The comment was accompanied by a small grin.
"Right," Bruce replied with a similar smile.
"So, basically, I was a terrible guardian and Alfred took full care of you for a while. It was summer – the busiest time of year for Wayne Enterprises – and I usually left early and returned late."
"Wayne Enterprises?"
"Yes, I'm Bruce Wayne, head of the company and all that."
"You're a CEO? Is it a big company?"
"Yes, Dick," Bruce replied with a chuckle. "You're the youthful ward of a millionaire."
The boy's eyes widened. "You're a millionaire?!"
"Yes, Dick," the man repeated. "Do you want to talk about that or move on?"
"Sorry, it's just…I've never met a millionaire!"
There was a short pause then Dick amended the statement.
"I mean, I guess I have, since, you know, I'm here and everything, but, you know, I don't remember meeting you so now I am."
Sticking out his right hand, Dick declared, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise before grasping his ward's hand and shaking it.
"Why am I wearing these weird gloves?" Dick wondered aloud. "And why am I dressed like this?"
"That part is coming, if you want to be patient, or I can skip everything and just answer those questions."
"Gosh, I'm sorry," Dick stated, shaking his head. "I'll try not to interrupt anymore."
"Master Dick," Alfred began, "during this conversation you may interrupt whenever you need to. Any other time, however, please remember your manners and let others finish before you begin speaking."
"Anyway," Bruce continued, "I would get home late and you would usually be in bed. Then I would come down here and become Batman. Usually I went out and patrolled the city, taking down criminals and villains, but some nights I just worked on finding your parents' killer. The guy…"
Bruce was interrupted again, this time with a loud gasp.
"Kill…killer?! Someone did it on purpose?!"
The man had forgotten about that omission. Dick's head was in his hands again but there were no tears this time.
"What did I do?" he asked quietly.
"What do you mean, Master Dick?"
"Was I a horrible kid?"
"No, Dick, of course not!"
"Then why…I must have done something wrong! Somebody murdered them!"
"And why, young sir, would someone's decision to commit that despicable crime be your fault?"
"I don't know," the boy mumbled.
Exhaustion surrounded every word and Bruce decided that he had said enough for now.
"Come on, Dick, I'll take you to your room. You need to rest, chum."
"No," the teen declared forcefully as he lifted his head. "Just keep going. Please."
A pair of dark-blue eyes carefully searched a pair of light-blue eyes. There was still confusion and sadness and fear. Now there was fatigue but also determination.
"You'll tell me when you need a break? If you get overwhelmed, you'll let me know?"
"Do I keep my promises?" Dick asked.
"Always, chum."
"Okay, then I promise I'll tell you if I need a break. Did you ever find the person who killed them?"
"Yes, and he's in prison for life."
"What did they look like, were they nice, was I as good as them, what kind of tricks did we do? No, forget it, keep going."
A sympathetic frown crossed Alfred's face. He decided that tomorrow would be a good day for a trip to the library. There were stories and pictures and books about The Flying Graysons in the Gotham City Library. For today, though, he would just get Dick's photo album from his room.
"If you'll excuse me, sirs, I'll be back momentarily."
Bruce looked at his butler quizzically but nodded his assent.
Alfred left and Bruce continued.
"You were the smartest nine-year-old I had ever met. It didn't take you long to find this place," the man swept his arm around the Batcave, "and then it was hard to keep you out of it. You instantly wanted to help in any way you could but what you really wanted to do was fight."
"Fight? I wanted to beat people up?"
"No, chum, that's not what I meant. You wanted to help me protect people and sometimes that ends in a fight. Well, usually, not sometimes."
"But I was nine!"
"Exactly. Which is why I wouldn't allow it. You didn't give up, though. You were, and still are, stubborn and figured out a way to get me to agree to train you and, eventually, become a young crime-fighter."
"I did?" Dick's eyes widened with pride and a grin lit up his youthful face.
"Yes, and it was one of the stupidest things you had, and have, ever done."
"Oh." The grin faded and the boy slumped in his chair.
"Don't misunderstand. I'm glad you're my partner – Batman will always need Robin – but the way you did it…that's the part I didn't like."
"What did I do?"
"You went out and found a way to get yourself kidnapped."
"On purpose?!" Dick exclaimed.
"Yes. I told you it was stupid. But you went and got kidnapped by Penguin, of all people! At least it wasn't Joker or Two-Face or Riddler."
"Who?" Dick was really confused – who went around calling themselves those names?
"They're villains, Dick, all of them. The last three are the most dangerous for you, especially Joker. He hates you. Well, actually, he hates Robin."
"I'm Robin, right?" Dick received a confirming nod and added, "So, I got kidnapped…"
"And found a way to escape, by yourself, with very few injuries. But it was three days, Dick! I spent three long days and sleepless nights searching for you. You scared the heck out of me, kiddo. I thought I'd lost you already."
"So that's why you blame yourself for everything?"
"No, Master Dick," Alfred laughed as he returned. "That's just his nature. I brought you this, young sir."
Alfred held out an old photo album. Dick took it and carefully opened it. The first picture was of an eight-year-old Dick and his parents, taken almost exactly seven months before they died.
"Are those…"
"Yes, Dick. John and Mary Grayson."
"They look so happy," he whispered.
"Well, they had you," Bruce replied softly. "And they loved what they did – flying on a trapeze, performing for hundreds of people night after night. They were happy, chum."
"And somebody took it all away from them. From me."
The teenager slowly closed the album without turning any more pages. There was a brief moment of complete silence then he shook his head.
"I'll look at this later…on my own, if you don't mind."
"Of course, young sir," Alfred quickly responded.
"So, you searched for three days and couldn't find me?"
"Dick, I searched all of Gotham City: every neighborhood, every office building downtown, every criminal hideout I knew of – and discovered several more while I was at it – and I even went swimming in Gotham Harbor.
I searched the surrounding area: the old circus grounds, Crime Alley, abandoned warehouses and anywhere else I could think of!"
"How did you find me?"
"I didn't! Near the end of the third day you came limping in the front door, all smiles and stubborn pride. You had a sprained ankle, a fractured rib, two dislocated fingers and a large bruise on the right side of your face.
'See, I can take care of myself!' That's the first thing you said to me and I almost lost it. You're lucky Alfred was there because I might have done more than banish you from the Batcave for a month. I had been so worried and you were so proud of yourself."
"But you have to admit that's pretty cool," Dick smirked. "I got myself taken so I could escape on my own and prove myself to you. It worked, didn't it?"
The fourteen-year-old pointed to his chest, where the bold, yellow 'R' lay over his heart, to prove his point.
"You foolishly risked your life on purpose at nine years old. You were untrained, completely naïve and had no sense of self-preservation."
"You still don't have the last one, young sir," Alfred commented.
"But, yes, it worked," Bruce admitted. "You were already strong and athletic from your eight years of training as an aerialist. I added some fighting techniques that you took to right away. Robin is not a normal fighter, Dick. You use speed and acrobatic tricks. You confuse the bad guys and are able to take on two criminals at once, three if they aren't too big. You're a sprinter; as long as they don't get a big head start, you can run down almost everyone you've ever met."
"Wow…" Dick murmured. "I'm that good?"
"Don't get a big head, chum," Bruce chuckled. "You're also good at being a distraction. You have two non-fighting trademarks: that smirk on your face and you enjoy taunting your opponent. And you're really good at that. Even when you get kidnapped."
"I've been kidnapped?!"
"More times than I can count, kiddo. Robin has been taken more than Dick Grayson, though. There are a lot of villains who hate me and want revenge so they grab you and set traps. They know I'll come for you."
"Never give up," Dick abruptly murmured.
"That's right, chum. Batman says that to Robin all the time. And you never have. You've been through so many things but you're too stubborn to give up."
"Like what?"
"I don't know if you should go into that, Master Bruce," Alfred advised calmly.
"I agree with Alfred, Dick. There are things that you don't need, and probably don't want, to remember. But I do want you to know that you are strong both physically and emotionally. You have a very high pain tolerance and you pride yourself on being what you call 'shatterproof'. However, you don't listen to your body when it tells you that you're too injured to keep going and you have no sense of self-preservation, as Alfred mentioned before. You aren't indestructible – nobody is – and I really hope we never find..."
"Master Bruce!" Alfred exclaimed, horrified that his oldest charge was about to talk about breaking the Boy Wonder.
Bruce understood and closed his mouth. Dick didn't understand, but he also didn't push the issue.
"So I'm fast, athletic, strong, smart, full of good taunts, an excellent smirker and stubborn, which I'll just call determined."
Dick was full-on grinning and it was lighting up his entire face.
"You're also reckless, impulsive, and risk your life too much."
Bruce was attempting to look stern but the brilliant grin on his ward's face was making it very difficult.
"Isn't that what heroes do, risk their lives for others? That little girl, Lisa, said I was her favorite hero. Heroes save people, right? They don't just stand around and watch bad things happen."
"That's true, Dick, but Robin somehow finds ways to get into life-threatening situations even when there's nobody around to protect."
"Maybe you shouldn't make people hate you so much then."
Both men were momentarily shocked and then they began laughing. The boy had made a good point. Most of Robin's kidnappings were based on revenge.
"Do we ever fight each other? I mean, we have to, right? Otherwise how could you have trained me? Can we do it now?"
"Yes, we fight in training but, of course, we hold back. I don't think we should do it now, especially with the headache you've had and the bump on your head that's still quite large."
"I think that's a very wise decision, sir," Alfred stated, relief in his tone. "And now might also be a good time to stop."
Red circles were surrounding the teen's eyes and he was unconsciously rubbing them. A giant yawn escaped and Dick shook his head. He didn't want to stop but he was really tired.
"Let's go, chum," Bruce said. "You need sleep."
With a reluctant nod, Dick allowed Alfred to lead him toward the service elevator as Bruce put on his cowl.
"I usually don't allow uniforms in Wayne Manor, Master Dick, so don't get used to this."
A tired grin accompanied the nod this time. Batman waited until they were gone then turned to the Bat-computer. He needed to find Bookworm.