Throughout the week, Dick had to consistently remind himself that he wasn't at the manor anymore. He had to keep the infantile side of himself locked away in an iron cage.

That didn't stop the urges from coming.

A few times he almost started sucking his thumb, but the rubber of his gloves stopped him every time and he faked getting something out of his teeth to cover it.

He constantly longed to be able to suckle on his bottle, but always had to wait until bedtime to have it.

It was only after nightfall that he could express the side of himself he had to constantly hide. He had his bottle, pacifier, and diapers in his nighttime wonderland. He changed himself throughout the day, but that was about it. He wore long pajama pants, but wanted to feel the warm comfort of his footed sleeper.

The one thing that outshone all these things was the rapidly expanding gap in his heart caused by being away from his Father.

For Dick it was absolutely amazing how just a year ago they'd left things on fighting terms, and now they were closer than they ever had been. It was mind blowing.

Occasionally, Dick wondered what would happen if his team knew of his secret life. Would they still treat him the same? Would he be free to express himself? These thoughts wandered through his mind during the nights when insomnia kept him awake no matter how desperate he was for sleep.

Despite his consistent desire for infantile treatment, the one thing that was on his mind just as much was the one thing he obsessed over constantly: Slade.

Ah yes, the mad man himself. Dick doubted that he'd ever have a night of peace until Slade was destroyed. He imagined Bruce felt the same when it came to the Joker. He paced his room during the night, unable to sleep for fear of Slade's next plan.

He tried to remind himself that he was wasting time on worrying over Slade. He had to force the thoughts from his mind. He knew he'd look back on that time in his life someday and feel sorry over all the time he lost.

Keeping that in mind, he tried to forget as often as he could.

He was reminded every day that he was still a teenager, and there was still more to learn. Movie nights, pizza, Friday night dates, video games, and television, just to name a few.

Eventually, the week reached it's peak on Wednesday.

Dick was more cheerful than usual, because tonight he would get to talk to his father.

Sunset couldn't come soon enough for Dick, and at last night fell over Jump City. Robin was unmasked and de-gloved before finally pulling out the shoebox that held the communicator that linked father and son.

Dick, excitedly, pulled out his old communicator and pushed the button on the side. The screen went fuzzy for just a few seconds, before the face of Bruce Wayne filled the screen.

"Daddy!" Dick said in a high voice. They fell into the rhythm of "Daddy and baby" as easily as Batman and Robin were in sync with each other.

"Hi Dickie." Bruce said, falling into his role. He smiled at his son, happy to see him just as he was Sunday. "How are you, buddy?"

"I miss you." It came out as a whining, pitiful sound. Dick's eyes were glassy, and Bruce could tell he was trying not to cry.

"I miss you too, son." He said, earnestly.

"How's Alfie?"

"Good evening, master Dick." Came Alfred's soothing British tone. Bruce turned the tiny camera to the Englishman, and Dick grinned.

"How are you, Alfie?" Dick grinned as Alfred rolled his eyes at the forever loathed nickname.

"Always well, Master Dick."

"Good."

Once again, the camera went on Bruce.

"Are you okay, Dickie?"

"Yes, Daddy. Just tired."

"Have you been sleeping alright?"

"Yes."

Bruce felt the urge to push for more information, but decided to let it go.

"When would you like to come back home?"

"I wanna go, but I don't know when I can..."

"How about next week for Alfred's birthday?"

"Perfect!" He squealed excitedly.

Suddenly, the alarm went off in the BatCave, and Dick nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I have to go." Bruce said, quietly.

"Okay, bye Daddy." Said Dick, sadly.

"Bye bye, Dickie." Said Bruce reluctantly before the screen went black.

Dick sighed as he put the communicator in the shoebox and slid it under the bed. Saddened by his father's sudden departure, Dick gloomily sucked on his pacifier. He wanted more time with his father, of that he was sure. He didn't like Bruce being so far away, but understood why. Gotham city needed Batman just as Jump city needed Robin. Still, Dick couldn't find comfort in the sentiment. Frustrated with his dependency on Bruce, Dick drank his bottle, still feeling downhearted. By the time he finished, he felt only a tad better. As he snuggled under the covers of his bed and pressed his favorite stuffed animal to his chest, Dick attempted to forget everything and just fall asleep, but the nagging, persistent thoughts could not be kept at bay.

Finally, conceding to his emotions, Dick sobbed into his pillows, crying in a way that could only be described as ugly, and only quieting after he was cried out. For a whole after he was hiccuping as he tried to sleep. Once again, sleep was fleeting and unreachable. After his face dried and felt all wooden and breakable, he forsook trying to fall asleep on his own and took a sleeping pill instead. He pictured the smile on his father's face next week, and the stoic comfort of Alfred's proper demeanor. He imagined the bond between them becoming stronger. He wanted Alfred's birthday to be wonderful, and he vowed to make it so.

A smile graced his features as an oozy black sleep finally took hold over him.