And here is where you get to see my hopefully not FAIL in keeping these guys in character. If it does get a bit OOC, let me know and I'll do my best to sort of rework it.

Dick woke for a third time in a large bed. There was no one else in the room, but Dick could hear a small racket going on outside in the halls. Getting out of the bed he had no recollection of being tucked into, he crept across the room soundlessly.

"Give it back you little brat!"

"No way, Drake! I acquired it first!"

"God, you're such a brat! Give it back or I'll make Dad make you!"

"Ooh, hiding behind father as always. Why don't you fight me for it?"

"Because you bite, you demon!"

"Shut the hell up!"

"You shut up, Todd! This does not concern you!"

"The hell it does! You little shit!"

"Quiet! Damian, give it back. Jason, language! You boys have been taught better!"

"Sorry, Grandpa."

"Drake started it!"

Robin frowned. There was more than just Bruce, his parents, and Alfred in this house. Peeking out, Dick caught sight of three boys and Thomas. The boys each varied in age, one a teenager, another his age, and the last a bit younger than him.

"Why do we have to be so quiet?" The youngest asked suspiciously. "You've never yelled at us so quickly before."

"Damian's right, Gramps. You're definitely temperamental today." The oldest leaned against a door Dick assumed led to his room. "You hiding something? Grams is acting weird too. I know you paid off Alfred. He's not giving anything away."

"A secret? What kind of secret?" The middle one asked. Suddenly his face scrunched up in disgust. "Don't tell me Grandma's pregnant! Can you even get pregnant at her age?"

"Drake, you idiot, that's not it!" The youngest hissed, crossing his arms. He looked a bit on the wild side. "The symptoms aren't correct. I say they're hiding something big by the evasive behavior."

"Boys—"

"You're not getting one past us, Gramps." The oldest smirked. "From the way you've been standing, I'm betting the secret is in your room."

"Jason," Thomas warned, "You set one foot in—Damian!"

Dick acted quickly, scrambling for a position up on the ceiling. No one ever looked up. The youngest boy entered the room with a large grin on his face. He scanned the room and furrowed his brows at the sight of Dick's utility belt.

"Dad's belt. So Grandfather has stolen it from him." The boy declared to the middle child, who was right behind him.

"Get out of there!" Thomas entered and tried to shoo them from the room. Upon his entry, he was surprised to find Dick missing. "Where did…?"

"Where did what?" The oldest, Jason, asked smoothly. "You're definitely hiding something."

"Grandfather, you are going to have to answer to father when he gets home. This is his very precious treasure. He never lets us touch it. I see no reason why he would allow you to touch it either."

"Damian, do you know the story of that belt?" Thomas asked.

Dick cursed their dillydallying. His arms wobbled slightly at the effort of keeping himself up. It had been a while since he'd trained. Now they had his utility belt. If they took it, he'd have to hunt it down. What a pain.

"Not this again." Jason rolled his eyes. "Golden Boy is dead. Just let it be."

"Jason." Thomas warned again. "Do not talk about—"

"About what? The greatest child known to man? Look, any of us would take more than a bullet for Dad. Besides, Golden Boy is dead. Dad should just bury that stupid thing."

They all called Bruce father. Dick felt pain crush his chest. He never even imagined Bruce would have children. Especially since he, former ward of Bruce Wayne, didn't even call him father. It was unspoken that they were just Bruce and Dick. Dick wasn't his son, and Bruce wasn't his father. Now it seemed Bruce's eldest hated him.

"Get out, all of you. Damian, leave the belt. I'll give it to Bruce when he gets home. Go see Grandma about your punishments."

"For what?" The middle child pouted.

"Jason's swearing and your fight with Damian. I'm sure there's a chore or two Alfred would love to be relieved of."

Reluctantly, the three boys left. As soon as the door was shut, Dick dropped down, startling Thomas. Uttering an apology, he reached out and grabbed his utility belt.

"So that's where you went. I was afraid they'd find you." Thomas frowned suddenly. "Are you alright? You had a fever all of yesterday."

"I'm okay. Thanks."

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question. Thomas knew.

"I can't stay."

"Why?"

"Bruce doesn't need me here. He's got a family." Dick nodded to the door. While he knew Thomas would be confused, he left it at that and went for the window. "I've got work to do, anyways."

"You mean being a superhero?"

"Gotham's a dangerous place;" Robin said, giving a small smirk, "but I'm a bit more dangerous. I'll be alright."

"You're going to get sick again. Stay here."

"I already told you I can't."

"I'll tell Bruce." The man threatened. "I'll tell him everything."

"What's there to tell?" Robin countered. "I won't be coming back."

After a moment of silence, Thomas spoke up again. His voice was soft and his tone gentle. "However they died, it wasn't your fault."

Dick froze.

"Who is Batman?"

He turned back to Thomas Wayne, who was staring right back at him. Dick felt his heart clench.

"Batman doesn't exist." Robin answered.

"And what about this KF person and Miss M? Do they exist either?" Thomas frowned. "Your parents? Are they made up as well? You called out for your parents only once in your sleep. The rest of the night was apologies to this Batman and other ramblings about KF and Miss M."

Robin slowly took it all in. even in his dreams he couldn't escape his memories. The door suddenly opened.

"Gramps, Grams wants… who are you?" Jason narrowed his eyes. "Gramps how did he get in?"

"Jason, I want you to look closely at this boy." Thomas ordered.

Robin wasn't sure he was ready to meet Bruce's son; but he turned to face the teenager anyways. Jason was taller than he was, at least three years older, possibly four, and looked at him with cold eyes.

"You're not seriously buying into Dad's delusions, are you? Just because he didn't find a body doesn't mean Golden Boy is still alive."

Robin narrowed his eyes back. He already didn't like this kid. What was with the term Golden Boy?

"My name is Robin."

"Oh yeah?" Jason widened his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "I suppose you're going to tell me you've been magically raised back from the dead? Is this your secret, Gramps? You paid some kid to dress like this to cater to Dad's delusions? You're sick, you know that?"

"Don't you talk to me like that." Thomas snarled back. "You weren't there. You never saw this boy save your father. You weren't there when his blood was painting the concrete."

"And this is supposed to make me understand?" Jason glared at Robin. "Go home. This old man's crazy and you aren't helping anything."

Robin let Jason stalk up to him and snatch his utility belt. Once Jason was halfway through the door, Robin spoke.

"Utility belt, minimum stun."

Immediately Jason let out a cry of pain and dropped the floor. Thomas stared wide eyed as Robin retrieved his utility belt.

"I'm not playing games." Robin answered. "But if you want a game, fine. I'll play. I'll hide and you seek."

Without another word, Robin turned on his heels and jumped back out through the window. Thomas helped Jason up and together they watched Robin run away.

"What the hell, Gramps?" Jason hissed.

"His name is Robin and he says he's going to look after Bruce for a while."

"Where the hell did he come from? How is this even possible?"

"I don't know. I don't even think he knows the answer to that."