A/N) Just a moment when the world changes for Dick Grayson.

Motivation is your superpower

Bruce was never home and that's a fact.

Like, does the guy even live here really? Does he use that giant room he supposedly is supposed to sleep in? Does he ever sit at his dinning room table? Does he ever actually walk through his front door - where is he?

Dick's been here six months and this guy is literally never around.

Sure, at first Dick didn't really care, he was to lonely and to depressed to really care. Even though all he wanted was a hug and for people to leave him alone at the same time.

But now?

Now he wonders where is Bruce all the time? Nobody can be that busy.

"Master Bruce has plenty of things to occupy his time. I'm sorry it seems to take precedence over - other things." Alfred had tried to placate him when he asked once.

Dick didn't think that was an answer.

He's never in his study. Never in his garage. Never in the backyard. Never in the sitting room. Never in the library.

Sure, work and stuff was obviously a big time consumer - and he did have a reputation as a - ew - ladies man, Dick was ten, he doesn't want to think what that means.

If it's anything like those sappy romance things in the movies . . . gross.

Anyway, nobody can be out doing that stuff all the time. Maybe he could just be hanging out, maybe he doesn't like coming home. Maybe he forgot all about the small dark haired orphan boy without any parents that he took in.

"Huh - you think he's a secret agent or something." Barbara had mused with him. Her lips bright red because of the cherry lollipop she'd been eating.

"He's just never there. I don't know, maybe he is a spy or whatever. Then why take me in?" Dick still can't find the answer.

She'd shrugged and smiled at him, shoving him lightly with her elbow. "Maybe you're like some sort of important witness or something."

"Not funny Barbara."

She thought it was.

But all those musings and wonderings and suspicions didn't bring him any closer to any answer. He still didn't see Bruce more than once in a rare time. The big man had broken his promise from the start and Dick may be a bit resentful for that. But still - he just really wanted to feel whole again.

And this weird secret night life Bruce has . . . it wasn't helping the kid any.

So it happens, that's what he was musing on when he found out.

It wasn't anything like what he had envisioned or thought up or whatever. It was way, way, way cooler - possibly scarier too. Dick had been curled up in the living room, glaring at the giant painting of Thomas and Martha Wayne standing side by side, hanging over the huge hearth. Just staring down at him. It kind of creeped him out because - they were dead and he watches too many horror movies and that's probably Barbara's fault. That girl loves her crime horror films.

Dick usually freaks himself out if he stares at the giant over looking painting long enough. But tonight his thoughts whirl to where Bruce could be now. He wasn't at dinner again. Alfred said the office kept him late tonight.

Yah right.

Dick's heard that one used at least ten times before. Along with a hundred other excuses and he wonders if Alfred realizes he repeats himself every few weeks or so. Like he's programmed to answer with different excuse options until he runs out of them than he starts over with the same lines.

It's weird.

Some sudden scuffling startles him out of his train of depressed thought . He must have dozed off because his eyes lift heavily and he hitches just a tad, not really in view of anything, he was still and hiding in the corner of the couch like a cat and then the old reliable grandfather clock opens.

Dick startles as the surprise space fills up with something big and - Bruce?

The little boy's heart is in his throat now as he twist soundlessly and stares, blue eyes large, taking in everything. He watches as Bruce steps out of the clock and Dick catches a glimpse of a soft blue light behind him and were those - rock walls?

No way.

Bruce hasn't heard him. He looks awful as he stumbles out of the room. The clock shutting faithfully behind him. Dick stays burrowed into his spot, not moving, holding his breath - not doing anything . . .just - he's suddenly aware of how uncomfortably stiff he is as he waits. The ants in his pants were getting worse the longer he stayed stone.

Finally, the house is creepy and silent enough for him to dare step a toe out onto the cold floor. One foot, then the next. He's still barely daring to breath.

He reaches the clock. Stares at it. It's a lot bigger up close. His brows furrow in wonder - what was behind this thing? He reaches for it and stares at it really hard . . .

The time? The time on it was wrong.

It had to be like four in the morning - but the clocks face reads ten thirty - than Dick has a weird hunch. He pushes the minute hand back - one minute, two- nothing's happening. Why does he think . . . he pushes it to twenty seven.

Ten twenty seven.

The thing whooshes open for him. Dick's a cross between horrified and excited. Something reaches for him and he knows - whatever is down there is going to change his life forever.

That's how he ends up in the Batcave, mouth open, eyes huge, brain officially exploded and -

And Bruce catches him in the middle of his gawking.

He doesn't look happy.

Oops.

A/N) Baby Dick is cute. Lonely and sad and cute. Now he finds the Batcave! Yay . . . the snapshots will get interesting! I hope.

See you for the next one!