Hey, just a bit of a heads up, I'm taking a one day trip tomorrow. Since I won't be able to update tomorrow, I'll upload three chapters today and three chapters on Sunday to make up for it. Sorry guys for the inconvenience.

The police had abandoned carrying around sandwiches, but Bruce had tripled his efforts to find Robin. Everywhere he turned he had to double check where he was going due to several instances of nearly getting caught. Twice he had to save Bruce discreetly with birdarangs from afar. Each time he watched as Bruce collected the birdarang with a hint of a smile.

However, Bruce was right. It was getting cold enough to snow and his suit wasn't meant to protect him from such weather. Even in the winter, Batman had always made him wear extra coverings to ensure he stayed healthy. He was quickly becoming ill. Shivering for several hours on his newest rooftop, Robin deeply considered taking up Bruce's offer.

If he just slept there at night, it shouldn't be a problem. He already knew all of the ways in. Perhaps if he snuck in without Bruce knowing... After all, Bruce wasn't Batman anymore. He wasn't awake at night and the mansion was huge. He could hide before he got caught. He was a light enough sleeper; it would be fine. Besides, Bruce hadn't honed in on the acute awareness Batman had.

It was a long trek to the mansion, and Robin stared at his destination wearily. Carefully, under the cover of dark, Robin crept in through the window of what would have been his room. He knew exactly how to pick the lock so it would make no noise. He also knew that this Bruce wasn't someone who liked his mansion overly secure, especially with members of the League popping in from time to time.

Then again, Bruce wasn't part of the League. Was there even a League? Of course there was. Bruce's future and past weren't tied to anyone else's but his. Everyone else should be relatively the same.

Once inside, Robin took a moment to breathe in the familiar air of the mansion he hadn't stepped foot in for quite a while. It was strange. The room in the dark felt different, more closed in than he would have expected.

He realized there was someone in a bed on the opposite end of the room. Dick stood still, trying to gage whether or not the person was conscious. Once he was sure the person wasn't awake, he started to creep towards the door. He wasn't expecting the door to open.

Light filled the room, illuminating his figure. It wasn't Bruce or Alfred that stood in the doorway. It was a woman. She looked quite shocked to see him.

"Thomas!" She cried.

Robin panicked. He backed away and turned to the window, but the light switch was flicked on and instantly Robin was disoriented by the onslaught of light. It took him a moment to get used to the light, and in that time a man woke from his slumber.

"I don't believe this." The woman said.

"Robin?"

Robin debated with himself. Should he turn and engage with these people? He was already discovered, and when they told Bruce, he was going to be expecting him to return.

"Robin? Is that you? I didn't believe Alfred when he told me, but you really are alive." Thomas quietly rose from the bed.

He was running out of time; but it was freezing outside and Robin dreaded the thought of shivering for another night. He needed to answer them, but he wasn't sure how. He blurted out the first thing on his mind.

"This used to be my room. Sorry."

After it was said, Dick immediately cursed himself. That didn't make any sense to these people. Bruce's parents were alive, so of course he'd still find them living in the mansion. This was only his second time meeting them and he had said something so… so insane.

"Uh, nevermind! Just… just don't tell Bruce!" Robin turned and stared at their awed faces. It reminded him of when he'd first done his triple back flip for his parents. They were so shocked and proud. "Please?"

"It is you, isn't it?" Martha asked. "Are you alright? You look cold, let me fetch you a blanket."

Martha left the room before Robin could protest and he was left with Thomas who hesitantly approached him.

"I can't believe it. Even after all these years you haven't aged a day. How is this possible?"

Dick didn't answer, nervously standing in front of this man. Thomas didn't try to touch him like Bruce had. He stayed his distance and Dick was grateful.

"I watched you die. I felt you die." Thomas's voice wavered. "You can't be alive."

Martha came back, a soft smile on her face. She handed Robin the blanket and closed the door behind her.

"Alfred almost caught me." She let out a soft, warm laugh. "I had to lie. It's very hard to do with a sweet man like him."

Robin didn't know what to do or what to say. He ended up blurting out something again.

"I know. It's because he always loyal and he always knows what to do."

"You know Alfred?"

Robin winced. The blanket in his hands was warm and he longed to wrap it around himself. He refrained, telling himself he was going to leave in just a minute.

"Come, sit with us." Martha pulled up a chair near the bed.

"I can't. I really have to go."

"If you leave now, I'll tell Bruce." Thomas crossed his arms across his chest. His dark hair was now grey and thinning. "You asked us for a favor, so you'll have to return it by keeping us old folk company for the night."

Robin opened his mouth and shut it again. The man knew how to get someone to cooperate. He had no choice but to obey. Reluctantly, he sat in the chair and let Martha wrap the blanket around his body. It was warm, warmer than he'd been in so long.

"Now, why don't you grab us some hot cocoa, Martha? Be careful." Thomas gave her a look and she gave a look back before quietly exiting the room.

Once she was gone, Dick avoided looking at Thomas. For some reason he was sure he knew what the man was going to say.

"I never got the chance to thank you. You left us so quickly and Bruce was a mess. I was a mess for a while too."

Dick stayed silent.

"I'll never forget what you've done for my family, Robin. Thank you."

If he didn't look he wouldn't see the tears. It was bad enough to hear the strain on the man's voice. Swallowing thickly, Robin allowed himself to answer.

"I… you shouldn't thank me."

He was awful. He felt sick. Just a few days ago he was wishing he hadn't saved them. He wished he hadn't saved Bruce's happiness for his own selfish reasons.

"You saved us."

"You'll hate me." Dick couldn't help the crack in his voice. He was struggling to hold back his feelings. "You'll hate me when you find out."

"Find out what?" Thomas's voice was soft, nearly a whisper.

"I… I wished I hadn't." Dick drew up his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. "I wished I hadn't saved you."

There was silence and Dick knew. Thomas Wayne hated him for sure. What were you supposed to do when someone who saved you wished they could take it all back, wished you were dead instead? Flashes of Batman ran through his mind and he shut his eyes tightly against the pain.

"I understand. You were so young and… and you died. It's natural to wish—to wish something like that."

"You don't understand." Dick whimpered. "I'm selfish and I wished you were dead because then I wouldn't be—"

He couldn't say it. He couldn't say this to the man he'd saved so long ago. He really didn't deserve all he'd had in the past. He didn't deserve Alfred and Bruce as his caretakers. It was no wonder his parents died. He was incompetent. He couldn't save them just like he couldn't save the henchman who'd fallen out of his grasp. Batman was right to hate him, to wish he could take it all back.

It hurt that Bruce was looking so hard for him. It hurt that Bruce wanted to shelter him like he'd done in the past when Dick was so selfish. Dick couldn't let him. He couldn't let Bruce make the same mistake Batman had. Robin needed to stay away. What was he doing here?

"You wouldn't be what? If it's not because you wouldn't be dead, then what?"

"Alone."

Thomas was silent for a moment. "Robin, you don't have to be alone. Stay with us. I don't hate you. I could never hate you, not when you made such a sacrifice for this family."

Why didn't this man understand? Robin was too tired to argue.

He fell asleep far too quickly and didn't awaken until hands shook him awake. Two worried figures stood over him and Robin realized he was breathing hard and crying.

"Are you alright?" Martha asked. "You were having a nightmare."

Dick didn't answer. He didn't remember what his dream was about. He felt disoriented and he couldn't focus.

"He's got a fever."

"We can't call Alfred, the kids will be worried."

"We can't leave him like this either. I'll keep Bruce and the kids busy; you can get Alfred and some medicine. Just force Alfred to keep quiet. He'll want to tell Bruce, but we can't cause this boy any more distress. It could cause his fever to worsen."

There were echoing footsteps, and they lulled Dick back to sleep. A cold hand on his forehead woke him, though he had no strength to open his eyes.

"Mom." He whispered, leaning into the hand.

"Hush, go back to sleep."

And he did.