CHAPTER TWO: BIRTHDAY

AGE: 11

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, I am."

"Where are you going?"

"There's been a trail of murders stretching from Gotham down to Panama. I've been tracking the case for a few months now, and it seems like every time I get a good lead, the suspect jumps locations. I'd like to take this guy down while I still know where he is and before any more bodies piles up." A taser was put into a belt pocket next to some rope and smoke pellets.

"So…you'll be leaving."

"In an hour, yes. I want to check over the preparations to ensure everything is secure and as I'd like them to be. After that, I will take the batplane and head for Panama." Bruce looked over to his ward. "It's only for a few days, Dick."

"But… Bruce…" The young boy let out a breath of hopelessness.

"What is it, Dick?" Bruce asked as he checked the batcomputer to make certain his target was still where he wanted him to be.

"…Just… Do you have to go today, Bruce?"

"I don't want to give this creep any time to make his way into another city where he can take more lives. The sooner I nail him, the better." He made his way over to the changing area, Dick following a little ways behind.

"Yes, but… Why today?"

"It's as I already said to you." Bruce paused mid-dress and looked at his partner. "Why? Is there something special about today?"

At that moment, seeing the honest look of confusion covering Bruce's face, Dick felt as though he'd been struck a sharp blow and was left to rot as he slowly bled out the remainder of his short life. But, of course, he couldn't let Bruce see him weak. So he put a band-aid on his severed limb and played his part as a nonchalant little kid well.

"No… It-it's nothing, Bruce." He gave a false chuckle that was accompanied by an even faker smile. "No, I just…it's the first day of the season…I was just being stupid, thinking that…maybe today could be special. You know, seeing the things that left when the seasons changed…. Things that...only come…once a year. Just thought it might be a special day to celebrate a bit." Dick took a deep breath before putting on his "happy" face and before switching to his "cheerful" voice. "I'm sorry, Bruce; I was being stupid. You're right. This case is more important. You should go." Dick handed Bruce his belt, "smiling" the entire time. "The first of this season…it's no big deal. I guess…I can still act like a child sometimes. Lives are on the line, here, Bruce. And that takes priority over any silly day. Even this one." Dick's mouth was beginning to hurt, but he knew that if he stopped smiling for even a second, Bruce would see the pain hidden so carefully behind those bright blue eyes. "Have a safe trip." Dick walked away from Bruce and made his way to the stairs, determined to keep "smiling" until he was out of Bruce's sight.

"Dick," Bruce called out as he looked in a mirror to make sure he was dressed to perfection.

The young boy paused, wishing that Bruce hadn't stopped him because he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend to be happy. He slowly turned and let out a partially-forced, "Yeah, Bruce?"

"It's okay to act young because you are young. And I don't want to you to have to grow up before you're ready to. However, you are going to have to know what is most important, especially at times like these when someone is in danger." Bruce looked Dick in the eye. "Do you understand this?"

Dick was no longer able to "smile" but he still focused his energy on trying not to appear as hurt as he felt. "Yeah. I understand." Dick took another deep breath and released it. "See you later, Bruce," he said hurriedly before running up the stairs just as fast.

He kept running, unable to stop, and when he felt the clock door shut behind him, he felt that he could finally release some of the pain he'd been hauling within himself. As Dick ran throughout the manor, he cried hopelessly, praying that Alfred was not around to see him. When he made it to his room, he slammed the door with the small bit of energy he had left. Then, unable to make it across the room to his bed, he leaned against, then sat behind, the door. His cries steadily growing stronger and more painful, and his tears becoming more abundant and unstoppable, Dick sat there, aching and wishing things were different.

"It'll never…change." Dick attempted to tell himself through his sobs and his trail of snot. "This…this is how…how things'll…how they'll always be…" Dick clutched at his shirt in the spot where he felt the most pain. "…forever...forever..." He fell unto his side as waves of pain began to overwhelm him. He had to stop the pain somehow. But there was only one thing he knew he could do to stop it from hurting… Only one thing could help him right now…

And it was in this moment that he craved it more than he ever had before in his young life...

I'm sorry.

And that is all I can really say…