A/N: Gracias por comentar, Haro kzoids! :) Pronto vas a ver la habilidad atletica de Dick. ;-)
It was a gradual process, but Dick slowly began emerging from his shell. Luckily, it was summertime, so he was saved from the probable trauma of meeting new kids and adults. He seemed to be slightly happy most of the time, and Bruce had learned to expect an enormous, albeit reserved, hug whenever he came through the front door.
But Alfred had noticed something. A dark anger, simmering just below the surface. Similar to the one he had seen in a young Bruce Wayne. And it worried him. Dick was passionate, about everything, and the longer the anger simmered the more volatile it would be when it finally exploded out of him.
The butler didn't know how Bruce wasn't seeing the obvious emotion. He had mentioned it to the younger man twice, and Bruce had observed the boy more carefully for a day or two. But Batman was so used to the darkness that he hadn't noticed anything unusual.
A passionate child's emotions cannot be bottled up for long. A small explosion occurred on a Tuesday, after a dinner that was late because Bruce had been in a meeting for longer than he had anticipated. It was a mild temper tantrum, but it would lead to something else entirely. Something that Bruce had vowed would never happen.
The man arrived home tired. Batman had no clues as to the identity of whomever had killed two-thirds of The Flying Graysons, and it was frustrating him because finding that person had become a priority. That, coupled with the fact that the meeting had been one of the most argumentative of his life, left him in a foul mood.
So now there they were, sitting in the living room, the man reading the business section of the newspaper and the boy bored out of his mind.
"Dick, stop kicking the couch," Bruce said wearily.
"I'm not kicking the couch."
"Then what on earth is that thumping noise?"
"I'm kicking the table."
Bruce lowered the paper and raised his eyebrows at the boy's audacity.
"Then stop kicking the table."
"I'm bored."
"Find something to do."
"There's nothing to do."
"Dick, there is an entire mansion filled with rooms of…things! We have a library, you can start there!"
His voice was loud, and the harsh tone startled the boy. It came from exhaustion and frustration, not anger, but Dick had not yet learned to recognize the difference. He reacted, the simmering emotions finally rising to the surface.
"I've read all the books!" he yelled.
"So read them again! Or go to the gym! Just get out of here so I can read the paper in peace."
Bruce hadn't meant it like it had sounded, but Dick didn't know that. All he heard was that the man wanted him to leave.
"Fine, I'll leave," he muttered, standing up and stomping out of the room.
Dick's words were dripping with anger, but Bruce ignored the warning bell that softly sounded in his mind. The man rolled his eyes at the dramatic exit, then sighed and went back to reading the paper. A few minutes later he heard a quiet 'click', but it didn't faze him as he studied the latest numbers in the stock market.
Half an hour later, Alfred entered the room.
"Master Bruce, where is Master Dick?" he inquired.
Bruce glanced up and was surprised when he saw concern on his butler's face.
"He's probably in the library or the gym."
"Sir, I have checked the library, the gym, the kitchen, his bedroom, your bedroom, all three of the downstairs bathrooms, and the den."
Bruce nearly jumped to his feet.
"He's lost?!"
"What was your argument about, sir?"
"What argument?"
"You and Master Dick were speaking quite loudly to each other almost an hour ago, sir."
"We were?"
Bruce had to think for a moment before continuing.
"Oh, he was bored and complaining so I told him to go find something to do. Then he stomped out of the room."
"Perhaps you should check some cameras, Master Bruce," Alfred said quietly. "I'll continue the search here, while you look down there."
Nodding, Bruce strode quickly to his study. Two minutes later he was down in the Batcave. He turned on the Bat-camera Viewing Machine and rewound to the previous hour. There Dick was, stomping out of the living room and up the stairs. A moment later he re-entered the foyer, a bag slung over his back.
The 'click' he had heard pushed itself to the forefront of Batman's mind. He watched in disbelief as Dick quietly opened the door and walked out. Batman quickly switched to the Bat-camera outside the front door. Dick came into view, took a quick peek behind him, then began to run.
He ran the length of the front lawn, then disappeared from view as he turned the corner near the front gate.
Why on earth is he…
The words he had said echoed in his brain: Just get out of here. Dick had taken them literally. Batman realized they had never had a 'real' argument, and he hadn't thought this one counted. But, apparently, the nine-year-old thought it did. Which meant Bruce had probably sounded angry.
Batman sprinted to the Batmobile and climbed inside. Since he was roaring out of the tunnel, he failed to notice the boy come back into view, head down and dragging the bag on the ground. He also didn't see Dick walk around the back of the house, nor did he see the nine-year-old begin climbing up a pipe.
Dick was on the peak of the roof, his gaze alternating between the moon and the distant lights of Gotham City. He had started to run away, but had realized the stupidity of the idea the moment he had turned the corner and saw the locked gate. Bruce was the first person to actually care about him since his parents had died. Why was he running away from that?
The nine-year-old had no fear of heights – he had, after all, been flying in the air from the time he was three. It was a place the men wouldn't think to look for him for a while, and it was a quiet place to think. So, he had climbed to the top of the roof and begun thinking.
A while later, Dick didn't know how long it had been, he heard a loud roaring sound. Like a powerful car, or the crash of the water at the end of a long waterfall. He scanned the surrounding area, and then jumped to his feet.
The black car speeding down the road could only belong to one person. Dick had seen the Batmobile on TV. It had a very distinct size and shape, and the boy had no doubt that he was watching the Batmobile drive away from Wayne Manor. Why had Batman been visiting Bruce, and why had Bruce kept it a secret, and where had Batman been hiding while Dick was in the house?!
Dick took a step forward, trying to keep the vehicle in view as it raced away. His foot slipped, and he stumbled back. He quickly engaged his abdominal muscles and straightened himself out. Trembling, he sat down again. Pulling his legs into his chest, Dick wrapped his arms around them and put his chin on his knees.
He had almost fallen. Dick wasn't scared of heights, but he was terrified of falling. There was no net, nobody was down there, nobody would have caught him. He would have died just like his parents. Dick didn't want to die, so he slowed down his breathing and counted to one hundred. Feeling a bit calmer, the nine-year-old scooted to the edge of the roof and began the long climb down.
When Dick got to the ground, he decided to go the back way. He had never been to the very back of Wayne Manor, it had never even crossed his mind. Why would he go back there when he had an entire front lawn in which to play? But the Batmobile had come from back there, and Dick was a curious child.
He followed a dirt path that, twenty minutes later, led to a dirt road. There was a sign with two rows of words. The top one said Gotham City, and the bottom 14 Miles. So, Wayne Manor was fourteen miles away from Gotham City. Interesting, but not relevant to finding out why the Batmobile had been here.
And Dick knew the Batmobile had been here. Big tire tracks, as plain as day in the bright moonlight. Bruce Wayne didn't own any vehicles with big tires.
Turning around, Dick noticed an odd-looking bush. Or maybe it was a tree. It was tilted slightly, unlike the other shrubbery surrounding it. And the leaves were moving, even though the night was calm. There was no breeze, not even a tiny one, so the leaves should be as still as the ones on all the other bushes and trees. But they were moving.
A voice in his head told Dick to turn around, to go back up the hill and around to the front door and inside the Manor. But his natural curiosity overpowered the voice, and the nine-year-old moved closer.
He crept slowly and silently toward the unusual bush. Dick made it to the hill, and pressed himself flat against the rocky side. Pausing, he listened. There were no sounds, so he carefully slid against the hillside until he was right next to the bush. He put his finger out to touch it, and discovered that it was wood covered with leaves.
It swung gently when he pushed it, and he stared up into the darkness. There was some kind of wire stretching across the top. So the wood was not growing out of the hill, it was attached to the hill. Taking a deep breath, Dick lifted the slats just enough to slide his body through the opening. He stopped again and listened, but heard nothing except the tiny squeaks of some kind of animal. Probably a mouse.
Dick found himself in a long, dark tunnel. He had a bit of moonlight from behind him, and there was a dim light on the other end of the tunnel. But the middle was completely dark. The nine-year-old thought again about turning back, but he really wanted to know why there was a light at the end of a long tunnel right underneath Wayne Manor. Did Bruce know it was here?
The boy was scared of being alone in the dark. He was fine if there were people around, even if it was just one person. But this dark tunnel was long, and he was by himself. Dick decided to run. It would get him to the other side faster, and if anyone or anything was waiting in the dark, it wouldn't be fast enough to jump out and catch him. Whatever was in there would have to chase him, and Dick knew he was fast.
So he took a deep breath and ran. He sprinted, driving his feet into the ground and pushing off hard, pumping his arms rapidly, and attempting to remain calm enough to remember how to breathe. It took him twelve seconds to reach the other end.
Batman had circled the entire area around Wayne Manor. Dick couldn't have gone far on foot, especially since the front gate was locked. But he hadn't found even a trace of the boy. So, he turned back and headed for the Batcave, intending to hack into some city cameras while also watching the Bat-cameras.
The faux shrub automatically rose when the Batmobile approached, and Batman slowed down. He coasted into the long tunnel, and suddenly had to slam on the brakes. A person was standing at the mouth of the tunnel entrance, a small person with dark hair. Batman immediately knew who it was, and he almost let out a string of swear words.
Dick had found the Batcave.