Here's a lighter chapter guys. Is it wrong that I secretly take pleasure in all of your tears? ...Probably.

Augh! I made a mistake of not properly "lining" my parts on the last chapter! I'm so sorry, I'm going to fix that right now.

Barbara cheered silently. Sure enough, the boy known as Robin was dozing lightly on the rooftop above the alley leading a path through Grove to 32nd. It was the ideal spot to find cover from the rain. On the roof was a rather large cover. Barbara had accidently discovered it once when a particular violent gust of wind tore her kite away from the park and onto this roof. The boy was asleep, his cape curled around him, acting as a makeshift blanket. She almost missed him completely, but it was the slight shuffling of the boy that caught her attention.

Carefully and quietly, Barbara set down the umbrella and readjusted the basket of food hanging from her left arm. Scooting next to the boy, she began to prepare a sandwich. She had done a phenomenal job of keeping silent until the boy moved slightly, startling her into dropping the knife that was so graciously slathering peanut butter onto the third sandwich she'd made.

The clang of the knife instantly woke the boy and before Barbara could assure him that everything was alright, he'd done a very impressive tumble backwards. Once he realized it was only her and a platter of food, he relaxed.

"What are you doing here?"

"Solving world hunger. You don't mind being my test dummy, do you? I made a few different kinds of sandwiches; I didn't know what you liked."

Robin studied her for a minute. "How did you find me?"

"This is the only roof with cover and it's raining pretty hard right now."

"How'd you know I'd even be outside? More importantly, why are you bringing me food?"

Barbara was highly amused. For a preteen, he certainly was suspicious. "You're a boy. Boys eat a lot. Besides, I owe you for before."

"You don't owe me anything." He narrowed his eyes beneath his mask. "Anyone would have done the same if they'd seen—"

"You're wrong." Barbara interrupted coldly. "Before you showed up, there were a couple of men on the other end of the alley. They ran faster than I'd ever seen. So tell me, why was it you, a mere kid in a rather interesting costume, who came to my rescue?"

Robin hesitated. Barbara narrowed her eyes. What was he hiding? He shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm Robin. It's what I do."

"You're seriously a superhero?" Barbara shook her head and held out a sandwich. "Here, kid, eat."

Robin collapsed next to her and shoved the sandwich into his mouth. He ate silently and Barbara was left to think of her next questions.

"Don't you have a family you need to check in with?"

Robin stiffened and Barbara quickly tried to backtrack. She stumbled through some trivial questions about his costume and his mask. He didn't answer any of them. Okay, wrong approach. She stuck to remaining silent for a while. To her surprise, Robin began to talk to her.

"Why did you find me, Babs?"

"Okay, seriously, how do you know my name?" Barbara sighed at his lack of response. "I'm curious. It's not everyday you see a kid parading around Gotham, at night no less, saving people. Besides, I heard an interesting story the other day about you; something about a mugging gone wrong and a child going by the name of Robin being killed."

"So it was real." Robin whispered to himself. It didn't go unnoticed by Barbara.

"Was it really you who saved the Wayne's?"

Robin took a deep breath. "Yeah, it was me."

"That's not possible! How are you here then? You should be at least thirty!"

Barbara watched him closely. He lips curved down into not quite a frown, but still indicated he was also troubled by this question. She waited patiently for his answer.

"Hey, Babs, how did Commissioner Gordon know me?"

"My dad? We know Mr. Wayne pretty well. He was the one who responded to the call that night. You know, the one where you apparently died."

Robin didn't say anything else for a long while. Barbara wasn't even sure he remembered she was there until he stood up and stretched.

"Thanks for bringing me food. I was starving." He walked out into the rain and before Barbara could say anything, flipped off the rooftop.

She hurriedly ran to the edge, expecting a rather gruesome sight below. Instead she caught the tail end of his cape turning a corner and then he was gone.

"Who are you?" She murmured to herself. There was something about this boy, something that pulled her to him.

It had felt good talking to Babs again. She was asking far too many questions for his comfort, but he'd managed to avoid telling her anything important. It appeared talking to the Commissioner's daughter wasn't such a good idea after all. He found many cops in the city exchanging identification info on him, and apparently there was a search warrant out for him. He wasn't a criminal, he hadn't done anything wrong, but he supposed Bruce or even Commissioner Gordon had put out the warrant.

Things were becoming a little bit tight. He wasn't used to avoiding cops, and he wasn't used to not having a permanent cave to dwell in. He would have hacked the security system of any facility, but the risk of being caught was greater than it was outside in the shadows he knew he could safely hide in.

After a few days Robin started to notice something odd about every police officer he almost ran into. They were all carrying sandwiches. It wasn't just a coincidence. None of them were eating those sandwiches.

"Babs." Robin muttered.

No doubt she figured he was hungry. After her latest success in feeding him, he supposed she figured she could lure him with food. Shaking his head, he leapt from one roof to another.

"Help!"

Robin froze. He knew that voice. Carefully, he glanced over the edge of the roof and into an alley. Standing there was Bruce Wayne, Commissioner Gordon, and Barbara. Scowling, he stared down at them for a while.

"Robin, help!" Babs called, faking distress extremely well.

"You really think he'll show up?" Bruce asked.

"He saved me before. This shouldn't be any different." Barbara put her hands on her hips and waited. "Besides, we brought along plenty of food. He's probably hungry again."

Robin couldn't help but flush in anger. Those three were treating him like a lost pet! Without thinking, Robin leaned over the edge.

"I'm not a dog!" He yelled at them.

Three pairs of eyes were instantly on him. Robin stared back. Suddenly it didn't matter that he wasn't supposed to interact with them, especially Bruce. It only mattered that they weren't treating him like a human being. He was just some animal to hunt down and capture.

"Robin! Come down son!" Commissioner Gordon called out to him.

Robin didn't answer back, still bristling. Barbara held out a sandwich with a wide grin. Robin stuck his tongue out and backed away from the edge, disappearing from view. The door to the rooftop opened and suddenly there were three policemen, guns drawn.

Not amused, Robin leaned back over. He wasn't worried at all about the cops. They were easy to take down if needed, and even easier to escape from. No cop wanted to shoot a kid, and it was an advantage Robin would easily use. Then again, these were Gotham Cops. Ethics didn't exactly matter to a good 90% of them.

"Robin, please." Bruce pleaded from below. "I just want to talk to you."

An image flashed through his mind of Batman roaring at him. The harsh words came back to him and the hurt just as fresh. Yet here was Bruce, longing to talk to him. This Bruce wasn't his Bruce, though. This was just Bruce Wayne, heir to the Wayne industries and happy.

"You're living on the streets, aren't you?" Bruce asked. "Robin, let me give you a home."

It hurts.

It was too much hurt to contain. Bruce had said something so similar back when his parents died. Suddenly the cops behind him were too close. One reached out to grab him and Robin flipped over the edge. There was a cry from below, but Robin caught himself on a windowsill and sat himself on the narrow ledge. He nearly hadn't caught himself. The lack of sleep was catching up to him and it was true that he hadn't had a meal in a while.

"Son, please come down." Commissioner Gordon asked softly. "We're not going to hurt you."

Robin bit back a snarky comment and a scoff. He needed to disappear now. Things were getting a little too much to handle at once.

"Master Robin, please remove yourself from the windowsill."

Before Robin knew what he was doing, he'd jumped down. He froze once he hit the ground and turned. Alfred was standing at the end of the alley with a plate in his hands. Scones, Robin realized. Alfred was waiting for him with a plate of scones.

"Alfred."

"Master Bruce," Alfred said, ignoring the boy's staring. "I believe now is the time."

Robin turned back and realized Bruce was stepping toward him. Fear coursed through him. What was he supposed to do? He stepped back a few paces, matching Bruce's movements and keeping their distance.

"Master Robin," Alfred's voice cut sharply, "it is time to stop running."

Robin stopped, awaiting Bruce's arrival before him. When the two were face to face, Robin kept his eyes down. The shame of his mistakes and the still fresh hurt of Batman's words burned at him from inside. Bruce stood still, his breathing shallow, almost as if he was scared to breathe too hard and spook Robin away.

"Robin, I don't know how you're here, but I…"

Dick awaited the next words, feet itching to move. He really wanted to run. It was easier to run away. Arms surrounded his frame and pulled him close, warming his cold body. Dick stiffened. Bruce had never held him like this before. Suddenly Bruce sank to his knees, dragging Dick with him.

"I'm so sorry."

Dick swallowed thickly. It sounded like Bruce was… crying. Bruce didn't cry. No, Dick thought. Batman didn't cry. But Batman was dead.

"I'm sorry you had to save me, sorry I wasn't…" Bruce trailed off and never finished his sentence. After a moment, he pulled away, reaching for something. "I kept this to remind myself of you."

Dick couldn't believe his eyes. Bruce was holding his utility belt. But that wasn't right, his utility belt shouldn't exist. No Batman, no Wayne tech, no utility belt. Bruce gave it to him and Dick hesitantly took it.

"I tried to figure it out," Bruce said, wiping the tears out of his eyes, "but I never could. I didn't want anyone touching it so I never had it analyzed."

Robin slowly stood, fastening his utility belt around his waist where it belonged. "Engage."

The belt sparked to life, and the little grooves became pockets. Bruce watched, amazed. Robin furrowed his brows, causing his mask to wrinkle. There was no possible way for this to exist.

"Amazing!" He heard Barbara gush from behind Bruce.

"Master Bruce." Alfred said gently, nodding to him.

Bruce nodded back. "Robin, come with me. I'll take you home and—"

"No." Robin backed up. "I can't."

Bruce saw his utility belt work. He was curious. Robin would end up trying to turn him into Batman. Bruce wasn't Batman. Not now, not if he could help it. Bruce needed to be normal. He needed to be happy and unburdened by his job, his duty. Bruce would be hurt or killed with his lack of training. This wasn't the same Bruce he knew.

"Why?" Barbara asked. "I've seen you! You're on the streets! Mr. Wayne has already ado—"

"Miss Gordon," Alfred interrupted, "if you please, would you try one of these scones? I need a second opinion."

Robin narrowed his eyes. Alfred was stopping her—distracting her from revealing something. Babs looked confused and hesitantly approached the butler. A few words were exchanged and Barbara took a scone, munching on it thoughtfully.

"Robin, it's dangerous for you to be out here. It's getting colder and you'll get sick." Bruce took a step forward to place his hands on Dick's shoulders.

Dick stepped back, avoiding the hands. Bruce was getting too close. No, that wasn't it. Robin was allowing him to get too close. He was going to ruin everything if this continued.

"I'm fine. I know these streets and I'm not helpless."

"You're just a kid! You're not some superhero!" Babs chimed in from behind him.

"Master Robin, I must agree. I'm afraid past experiences—"

"I was caught off guard." Dick interrupted with a clipped tone. "It won't happen again. It'll never happen again."

"Look, son, I'm sure you think—"

"I don't think, I know." Dick answered firmly. "I'm fine."

"What about your parents?" Bruce asked. "Aren't they worried?"

Dick tensed, biting his lower lip and clenching his fists. He'd been distracted. He still had no clue about this time's Dick Grayson, or perhaps there was no Dick Grayson. As for his parents… he was afraid of what he might find out. Were they dead? They probably were. Changing Bruce's future wouldn't change that part of his past.

They didn't understand, and wouldn't understand. Robin had a job to do. He was supposed to keep them happy. Involving them in becoming a vigilante was going to get them killed.

"Robin, please, we're trying to help you." Bruce looked so lost right then. Dick struggled for a moment with what to do and say. "Come home with me. We can find your parents—"

Dick turned and ran. He was too careless, too distracted. They didn't understand, and they would never understand. Robin had a job to do. He was supposed to keep them happy. Involving them in becoming a vigilante was going to get them killed.