This was where Watchtower's so-called story was trying to come into focus (and never really did). It's after Conner gets back from Smallville and Scarecrow is out.

Again, if you've been following this story, you'll recognize the chapter so you can - and may - ignore it.

I swear, I will let you know when the change kicks in.

Bruce Wayne was in a meeting when the Batwave had gone off. Dick Grayson had been in the middle of a test that was crucial for him to pass – one of those ones that made twenty percent of his grade and since he was missing so many days, it was important to save his grade with it. Neither one could have gotten away any sooner than they had and even then; Bruce was beginning to wish he hadn't insisted on going after the recently escaped Scarecrow.

Of course, in hindsight, it was all Bruce's fault in his mind. It had been his decision to go in when they weren't even sure what they may have been dealing with. It was his decision to go in unprepared. It was his responsibility to take care of his protégé. He hadn't done it and now…

He should have expected it. He should have seen Scarecrow would have made a new fear toxin that may possibly have side effects from it that may be fatal if not worse. It had happened too quickly for him to do anything. Scarecrow caused a distraction and the next thing that happened was Dick was being injected with something. Two minutes later, Dick was saying he was seeing things that couldn't possibly be happening. His parents' deaths, his own near one, and the first few weeks as Robin – when things really hadn't gone very well.

"Master Bruce," Alfred sighed calmly. "I must ask you go and get some sleep. He's doing fine. I shall stay up to watch him alright?"

"Fine," Bruce muttered as he turned away from the bed. A soft chorus of beeps and moving oxygen beat at his ears as he walked away, his cape following him. He was wearing his uniform still, the cowl on his back between his shoulder blades. "Take care of him Alfred."

"Of course Master Bruce," he replied. "I shall do everything I can."

"I know," Bruce stated as he stripped from his uniform slowly like his limbs were stiffer than he could imagine. "I know that Alfred. God I should have paid more attention."

"You didn't know Sir."

"Well I should have."

"You couldn't have -," Alfred began.

"I should have!"

There was a moment of utter silence as Bruce's voice bounced off the walls of the cave. The medical equipment beeped on and continued to help Dick breathe as he lay unaware of anything. His eyelids were twitching as he dreamed nightmares thanks to the toxin. Alfred didn't bother speaking for that time as he watched Bruce's stiff back become impossibly stiffer. His movements had stopped and his shirt was halfway off as he ground his teeth.

"I shall call Lucius," Alfred sighed, his tone barely changed from his usual slight irritation but enough for Bruce to feel like he had just been slapped. "Get some sleep."

Bruce stayed silent as he finished changing into the baggy scrubs that had been given to him as a gag gift one Christmas. He'd gotten himself injured badly while Dick had been down with the flu and in return, Dick had gotten him multiple colors of medical scrubs – mainly black ones though how he'd found them, Bruce would probably never be sure on. As his own little gag, he gave Dick the same gift for his following birthday.

Needless to say, the damned things had gotten to be overly useful. Alfred had gently threatened that they would soon need new ones.

"Thank you Alfred," Bruce said, his tone apologetic.

"Right."

There was obviously nothing else to be said and Bruce decided it was possibly better to just leave it alone. He walked up the steps to the clock doorway that led to his mansion. He knew he had to sleep but he didn't feel tired. He was anxious. Someone should answer the door when Lucius showed up right? It was the only right thing to do right? How could he do anything less? Dick was his son and he'd failed in protecting him the way he should have.

Damn it, the team's been doing better than I have, he thought ruefully. Conner at least seems to have bonded with Dick a little. Otherwise, he'd just try to ignore him as the others. Damn it all.

He wasn't paying attention to the time and the series of soft knocks made him jump out of his skin. He growled internally at himself hating himself for being so paranoid. The insane freaks didn't make him nearly this scared. He opened the door to find a slightly shocked Lucius Fox.

"Alfred with him?" he asked.

Bruce nodded and waved the second of his company into his home. Lucius already knew about whom Bruce and Dick were by night – he'd helped Bruce with the vehicles and other assorted toys. Dick, as the kid he was, desired a jet pack of some type to be made – "It's not fair Bruce gets to chase Firefly down on his own all because he has the jet pack and I don't!" had been the somewhat pathetic argument.

Bruce chuckled to himself as he heard the clock door open. He shut the front door as Lucius disappeared into the cave quickly, his medical bag jangling softly with the portable equipment it contained. Dick had always been a soft spot for Bruce and he knew it was going to bite him sooner or later. It always did whenever Dick got hurt even the slightest but Bruce usually never let on that he was bothered. He was fairly sure Dick was slightly scarred from that treatment.

Nothing like being told to 'suck it up' when you've landed badly on a fall or when you've been thrown across a room by a steroid abusing wrestler like Bane to make yourself feel better and more confident.

"You seriously think that'll make him feel better?" Green Arrow had once chided. "He's what age again? He and his parents were how close? What exactly did he go through to get landed with you again? He gets a broken leg because he is in no way, shape, or form ready to be your fucking protégé!"

"He's fine," he had replied. "He'll make it through this."

"What if he doesn't?" Jon asked his voice flatter than a board and as serious as ever.

Bruce had glared at him but not with nearly as much fire as usual. It was apparent Jon noted it when he placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder and looked at him meaningfully. Oliver had blubbered as he tried to refute whatever the look had meant but was quickly shut down by another look.

"You are going to get reamed when Clark finds out what happened," Oliver managed after he got his voice back. He then left Bruce to Jon which only led to silence.

A silence that Bruce had welcomed back then and was fairly sure he'd welcome it again at the moment. He was so glad that he was alone. He'd had plenty of speeches from Lucius about how much higher his stress levels had become since he'd taken Dick in; as a son and as a student. There was always the fact that Bruce had blamed himself when things had gone wrong when he was on his own – he had no one else to blame. Then, when Dick got hurt, he blamed himself more and more.

It was always possible he'd been too rash in taking Dick in under his wing as a son four years ago but it had all fallen into place so well and there had been no way to stop any of it. Dick had almost literally fallen into his lap when the boy's parents were killed. They had been given an offer for 'protection' from Boss Zucco and of course they reacted the way anyone would have if they didn't live in Gotham City.

Bruce had disappeared in the craziness that soon enveloped the area, his red headed reporter of a date screaming at the easily remembered corrupt cops. She did want them taking the boy with them but couldn't do much other than grab a kid from the crowd and demand he drive after the cop car. Bruce had already made himself into Batman and was trailing them all as they drove out of the city to the ravine corrupt cops used to bury their hidden bodies.

He had swept in, beaten the corrupt cops silly, and grabbed Dick by the collar of his acrobat uniform growling that he now 'owned his ass.' The picture his date had taken had been all over the front pages of every newspaper that could get their grubby hands on it. The next thing Bruce knew, he was telling the police and Social Services that he would take the boy in. What with his great track record and the fact that he wasn't nearly as bad as he could have been as a billionaire, it had been allowed.

The first few weeks passed with him getting Dick into school, getting the boy clothes, arranging the funeral, and searching for the men who'd been responsible. Boss Zucco wasn't exactly the easiest person to track down when he'd decided to lay low but Bruce had managed it. He'd jumped in then too only to be saved by Dick when the boy showed up in his acrobat uniform with an added cape and mask.

He watched as Zucco muttered that he had family too and that it was 'cute.' Dick of course was moving in seconds, face set in annoyance and slight rage. When Zucco asked if his parents had taught him manners, Dick had growled and rushed him only to get hit in the solar plexus and tossed. Zucco followed up with hitting the boy with a juggling club. Bruce ended it before Zucco could do anymore, rage consuming him as he punched Zucco into retreating up to the trapeze.

When he fell, it was Dick who swung in to catch him.

"Nice save," Bruce stated as they stood outside the circus area watching the police collect Zucco, "but I though you wanted Zucco to get what was coming to him."

Dick smiled softly. "Well, he did didn't he? Justice?"

The words struck Bruce with amazement. He hadn't been that rational. He'd wanted to shoot the man who killed his parents and he was still slightly burdened by the fact his tormentor hadn't been given justice. He'd wanted to take away that burden from Dick the moment he saw the loving couple fall. He glanced back to the glowing cars.

"I've been thinking Dick; I don't think Bruce Wayne has what it takes to raise you properly."

"Yeah," Dick scoffed gently, his tone almost playful as he caught on. "Kinda noticed he's never around. But if not Bruce Wayne…What about the Batman?" He smiled up at Bruce.

"We'd have to give you a name," Bruce replied somewhat uneasily as he turned his head further away like he was being bashful. He didn't see Dick look back to the cops before glancing down at his chest where a bright yellow circle encased a black 'R.'

"How about…Robin?"

"Like the bird?" Bruce asked slightly amazed at the idea. A nocturnal bird? How the hell was that going to be explained?

"It's a family name!" Dick, Robin, chuckled as he placed his hands on his hips. Bruce smiled inwardly. He knew what Dick was speaking of.

He sighed. Oh how ticked Clark had been with him. It had been idiotic really. Everyone had been so damned worried that he had a sidekick and the next thing he knew, everyone else was getting protégés. He'd nearly beaten them all to a pulp when they all started congratulating each other.

Thank god for Gearhead.

"What do you think would happen if you were to say…Disappear without a trace," an eleven-year-old Dick Grayson asked as they raced through the streets of Gotham on cycles. Gearhead had managed to cause the utter destruction of the Batmobile – much to Bruce's annoyance – which was now being fixed and was getting a reconfiguration.

"Where did this come from?" Bruce asked into the headset in his cowl. He heard Dick sigh into his as he revved his bike in irritation. They'd been chasing around for hours without luck.

"I was just wondering something since one of my teachers asked who was most influential in our lives," came an easy reply. "I said you and Alfred and he then asked me to elaborate. I replied as simply as possible; you took me in and acted as a support when my life literally sucked."

"This still doesn't answer my question Dick."

"Well…I already know neither of us could manage without Alfred – he's too much of a lynch pin type of person anyway. I think you could handle life without me – you did it for years after all. I don't know how I'd do though. Honest opinion; how do you think I'd handle things if you disappeared into thin air?"

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at his son.

"Hey! I'm being serious here!"

"I think you'd do fine. Alfred will kick your butt in gear if you don't."

Robin's typical laughter filled his ears and he smiled. The Batwave suddenly began blaring, giving them a location of Gearhead's most recent spree.

"Let's get this guy back for damaging the car huh?" Bruce asked, his tone becoming lighter as he joked with his son. Dick laughed.

"Hell yes!"

Bruce sighed as he stared out the window to the city, his eyes falling on the cemetery faster than should have been normal. He had a feeling Dick had been wrong about how well he'd deal.

If you've already read it, don't review. If haven't I'd love to hear from you.