Disclaimer: Do I have to do this every chapter? Well, fine then, do I own anything? No, apparently I am not worthy enough to own the Batman or Richard Grayson and his amazing blue eyes. Not that I would want his eyes or anything, but they're just an amazing, dark navy blue… I'll stop rambling.

This Chapter is an exact continuation of the next chapter. And, did you know who the man, 'the voice' was at the funeral, talking to Richard? The answer is here. Let's pretend that Gotham Academy is only a high school and there is a younger school for Elementary and Middle, kay?

Oh, and my Beta, PerseusSlayerofMedusa, is helping me. So, no more mistakes and stuff. After they go over it, I'll go over it again just incase we both missed anything. So, this is going to be awesome!

A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.- Bible, Unknown where found, forgot.

Chapter 3-

"Alfred, what do you think about a ward?"

Alfred stared at him.

"Have you given it any thought? At all? Are you perhaps insane?" The British man asked, one eyebrow raised as he stared at the young man he had practically raised. A ward? If anything, Alfred would have thought that Bruce had gone insane. Well, he was Batman, he couldn't just take a ward in, a mere child. The boy was six, if that was even the boy he was thinking of.

Bruce frowned at Alfred and looked away, linking his fingers together and placing his chin on his hands and leaning on his knees. He face was firm and Alfred could only assume what his answer was. Certainly not the one he hoped for. The look that had wriggled its way into Bruce's eyes slightly frightened the old man, a look of complete and utter determination. Something just had to be done and since no one would step up, he would.

"Yes, I have. I thought about it ever since that conversation after the funeral. At first… at first I wasn't sure. I told myself it was a dumb idea, it wouldn't work. Not with me being Batman, no, that couldn't work. But, I thought about it some more and I saw… I saw myself in that boy Alfred. I… I don't want him to end up like me, he shouldn't have that. He can't. I'll call-"

"Master Bruce-"

"No, Alfred, I'll do it. I know this is the right thing to do and, that way, you'll finally have someone to talk to when I'm gone." Bruce said and stood up firmly, looking more determined than he ever was before. Alfred sighed and stepped back, hands up in weak defense. His eyes twinkled however, glad that Bruce hadn't let himself be stopped.

Yes, he did want that boy.

And he could see in Bruce's eyes, he wanted a son.

][][][

Richard looked up at the sound of the metal door opening.

The door to his… room, opened up with hardly a sound at all. He was sleeping for the most part. In all honesty, he was afraid to sleep. The nightmares, the nightmares… they never left, never ceased to continue their horrible effects on the boy.

A man, one he had never seen before, in the Gotham Juvenile Center uniform, stood there. He was scowling and his five O'clock shadow slightly scared the boy. The mans black eyes made him was to shrink back in fear, they were narrowed and the light glinted off them horribly.

"Get ya stuff ready kid. Yo' leavin'," he grunted and left, leaving the door open.

Richard blinked. He was leaving? After three months of this place, he was finally leaving. For the first time since April 1st, when they died, he cracked a small smile. It wasn't anything like the big grin he had, it was merely small twitches of his mouth moving upward, but, after those three months, it could be considered a smile.

Richard jumped up in a tuck jump and grabbed his superman suitcase, which hadn't been opened, as it was regulation to wear an orange uniform, and leapt out of the room, running down the hall as the older boys watched him with curiosity and jealousy. Another metal door waited at the end but it opened and he ran out. The warden was there and a few of the other workers were. Richard stopped short when he saw a man in a suit, a nice suit.

The man, Mr. Bruce Wayne, was sitting across the warden in a nice, plain black suit and black dress shoes. A light blue shirt was nicely pressed and was under the black jacket. He had that same silver watch and briefcase with him.

When he saw Richard he smiled and stood up. Richard looked toward the warden and noticed, for the first time, Samantha Parker standing behind the warden.

"Samantha!" He exclaimed and, forgetting the promise that he made himself, began speaking in rapid Romani. "Samantha! Ce faci aici? Am crezut ca ai plecat pentru totdeauna! Eşti aici pentru a mă?" But, with the confused expressions everyone had come to, he paused and shrunk back. "Sorry, english, I forget."

The warden shot him a look. "Grayson, what did we tell you about speaking Romani?"

"It isn't allowed."

"Correct, now. Mr. Wayne here has come to take you home. All we need to get you out of-"

"-all we need is your permission." Samantha said hurriedly, staring at the warden angrily. They told him not speak his native tongue? They were talking to him like this? What? The child is six!

Richard stared at them blankly. Bruce, no longer smiling, stared at him and the six year old shifted uncomfortably. He looked between everyone with his dead eyes that had only lightened up for a second when he saw his old friend. He was going to live with a stranger? No! He only wanted to live with his parents! They were his parents! From the beginning! He couldn't just be taken in by a stranger, that wasn't how it worked and he certainly wouldn't be taken in by this big, tall man. With the brown, dark eyes. They seemed kind but Richard could see through them, they… he, was dark, cold and unsure of his decision.

He went instantly to his first instinct and took a involuntary step back, dropping his suitcase. "But-"

"Grayson! Pick up that-"

"We will take this outside. Thank, Mr. Makerson, for your service. We'll take this outside." Mrs. Parker said and grabbed the suitcase and his hand and dragged him out. Samantha gave a curt nod toward the now angry man and opened the door, stalking out. Richard was pulled along and he heard the silent footsteps of Mr. Wayne behind him.

It was raining, like in the TV shows, and it made Richards already depressed mood fall even lower. Why rain? Why couldn't it be sunny? Then again, the sun wouldn't match this dreadful day. Being taken in by a stranger... Richard shuddered.

There was a limo and on the side it said Gotham City on the side. Samantha opened the door and ushered him in, and waited for Mr. Wayne to walk in. She slammed the door shut, slightly damp from the constant wave of water falling from the sky. "The nerve of that man! When they hear about this in DC!" She growled and then looked at Richard, who was staring at her.

"Richard," she sighed. "How was it-"

"Awful." He interrupted her, frowning and looking around the big car in wonder. It had already begun to move toward the city hall.

She looked at Mr. Wayne, who shared he glance. "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, do you have any food? I'm hungry?" He looked around, as if expecting food. "You can have some…wait, didn't they feed you?" Samantha turned and glared back at the center. First, they put a six year old in a Juvenile Center… in Gotham freaking City. Then, they don't feed him?

"Yeah, not that it was big… or good. Is there any? Sorry if I'm being rude," he whispered the last part and stared at the ground.

"Oh, no! Your fine! But…uh… there is no food, I am sorry. Now, sweetie, Mr. Wayne wants to take you home-" He shot her a panicked look, as if the thought of someone taking him home was an awful thought. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. We, Mr. Wayne, just needs your permission… is that all right? The papers are all ready… it's just a yes or no from you." Samantha said softly, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her and her heart almost died from the those dead, lonely blue eyes. "If I said no would I go back?"

Mr. Wayne shifted uncomfortably and looked out the window, watching the little droplets of rain that ran down the window as if a river on a map, twisting and turning until an unexpected end came. Almost like life. Life was a river, sometimes it was smooth and calm, keeping on one course. Sometimes, it was tumulus, twisting and turning, going anywhere and everywhere. Right now, it was as if the river was a waterfall, not knowing when the end would greet him.

"Yes, you would."

He frowned and looked out the window as well. Something, something written on his face, was wrong. He… you could tell. Stranger equals bad. His mother had taught him well, it's to bad…

"I'll go."

][][][

"Just sign here Mr. Wayne," The man, a big burly looking man, said, pointing to a place on the paper. "Yes, and… and here, yes and there. No, no not… yes, there. Thank you Mr. Wayne, it's all settled."

Mr. Wayne set the pen on the glass counter and straightened. Richard was his legal ward now but he knew the boy had only said yes because he didn't want to go back to the center, and Bruce couldn't blame him, but it hurt a bit. Yes, Gotham's White Knight had been hurt. It wasn't anything that would bother him, but it certainly wasn't something that he would ignore but something that he would let go of, he would let go of the past.

He looked down and saw the boy sitting on a bench in the middle of Gotham City hall. He had already said his goodbyes to Samantha Parker, he didn't cry but he was disappointed and so was Mrs. Parker. He was sitting next to his Superman suitcase, which Bruce thought rather dryly of, and was messing with the corner of his shirt. "Richard, are you ready?"

Richard looked up and seemed irritated. Why was everyone asking him that? No, of course he wasn't ready! He had never been ready!

"Yes, Mr. Wayne." He whispered and jumped down from the seat, walking over. Bruce looked down at him and smiled slightly. He had already called Alfred to come pick them up. It was raining harder now and hopefully that wouldn't effect Bruce's mood like it always did. He had absolutely, positively no clue what he was doing, or what he had been thinking. Yes, sure, he had seen himself in this boy but… still, maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe…

Honk, Honk!

Bruce's head snapped up and he could see the limo through the glass doors. It was sleek, black and nice. Hopefully, Richard wouldn't feel to uncomfortable. When he looked down, he saw Richard's mouth hanging open, staring at the limo through the rain. "Is that your car?" He asked, staring at his, his blue eyes widening.

"Yes, come on. We need to get home."

He held the door open for the boy and let him walk out into the rain. Alfred, having already gotten out of the front, opened the door for Richard, who scrambled in away from the rain. He has stared at Alfred for a few moment, wondering if he could trust the old man and came to the conclusion that, yes, he could. Richard slid into the furthest end of the seat in the limo and Bruce came in, bending over from the rim of the roof. He sat opposite of Richard but didn't look at him.

As they began their trek through Gotham City to Wayne Manor neither spoke, said a thing. Bruce stared into those dead, lonely, sad eyes and Richard stared at the passing buildings, people, street signs, blinking tears from his eyes. Everything was changing. He didn't like change. Change hurt.

"So, Richard, tell me about yourself," Bruce said, crossing his legs and smiling at the boy. The six year old looked up at him, surprised that words had been exchanged. He had expected silence, something he had gotten used too.

Silence was accepted now, unlike before where his world was full of lights and noise and people. So much change had happened. Something that had never even crossed his mind to happen.

Bruce watched him as the boys eyes studied him. He was smart, you could tell. He remembered walking into the trailer the night after it happened and saw all the books by the small bed. A dictionary, a book on basic Latin and even 'Basic Astrology for the younger mind.'

"I'm six," Richard said in a tiny voice, staring up at him. Alfred chuckled up front and Bruce even smiled a bit. The boy, now that he could see him for the first time, had black shaggy hair and fairly tan skin, which Bruce guessed came from his Gypsy roots. His eyes, once so full of life and laughter, so blue almost like robins egg blue, were clouded over and red from tears and sleepless nights, which put dark circles under his eyes. He wore a Gotham City Juvenile Center orange uniform, which greatly angered Bruce, and even Alfred, who had merely caught a glimpse, but disliked it nonetheless for he instantly recognized it. He would have to see what he had in that suitcase and then secretly throw the suitcase out. For if Clark, Clark Kent, yes the reporter from before, saw it, Bruce would never live it down.

"Yes, I know that. But, what else. Favorite color, animal…" Bruce's voice faded off as the kid wiped a tear from his cheek and looked out the window, watching as the ran pelted the city unforgiving, mercilessly. Just like the way they had died… mercilessly, without a chance.

Suddenly, the boy burst into tears. Bruce began to panic. Had he said something wrong? What happened? "Richard?" He asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. The boy shook it off and curled into a ball, shaking and trembling.

"Richard?" Bruce asked, beginning to panic as he got no response from the boy. He ended up deciding that he would calm down on his own and he was right. Richard was fine after five minutes, little chokes or sobs would break free but he would be fine.

"I'm… I'm sorry Mr. Wayne. I didn't mean to cry." He whispered, not looking at Bruce. Bruce blinked, however, in surprise. Why was he apologizing? Crying, crying could be good. Sometime crying got rid of the pain.

Bruce wanted to say that, to comfort him in someway but now they were driving up to the Manor and Richard got slightly distracted. He pointed to the big, dark, black house rising in the distance. Bruce almost groaned. Yeah, the manor would help the kid recuperate. What was he thinking?

"Is that where you live?"

"Um, yes."

"It's big."

"Very."

"My old trailer could fit in it about a bazillion times." He sniffled and wiped a few more tears away, quickly closing his mouth, wondering why it slipped. Bruce felt heartache for the boy but he made no movement as the slipped closer to the Manor in the ever coming blanket of rain. It was foggy, misty and the overcast, dark sky certainly didn't help with any appearance of the Manor. He had known that Mrs. Parker didn't want Richard to go with him, and this certainly wouldn't make her feelings toward the decision any better.

And then lightning had to strike in the distance.

Of course.

Richard fell back, away from the Manor, knowing that he wouldn't be able to escape it's picture for long and simply sat the seat, staring down at Mr. Wayne's shoes.

They finally came to a stop in front and the door Quietly opened, Alfred standing there with an umbrella. His face held no emotion, but his twinkling eyes held a slight picture of excitement and even joy. Maybe this boy could cure Master Bruce, once Master Bruce cured him.

The boy stepped out, the orange uniform much to cheerful color stood out against the rain and the Manor's dark picture. Alfred smiled a bit, a light of hope in shining darkness. He stared up at the house's looming presence and almost feel over backward. Alfred dutifully caught him and pulled him back up. Richard looked up at Alfred and said, in the most smallest voice, "Who are you?" The boy put much thought behind it when he got in the limo, but now that the man had made a movement to keep him from falling backwards he was curious.

Alfred looked down at him and smiled, moving slightly as to let Bruce exit the car. He hefted the umbrella higher to keep the rain of both boys.

"My name, Master Richard, is Alfred, your butler." At the amazed and incredulous look on the boys face both men chuckled. The crystal blue eyes were wide with thought and wonder. A butler! How amazing! He had only dreamed of it, and here one was, standing there smiling over him. "Come on, how about we get you inside." The man had a weird accent, but he had heard the type before when they were in the city with the big clock tower.. what was it called? Landon, Loudon, London! Yes, London, the circus performed there and tons of people spoke that way. It certainly hadn't helped with his english learning, it honestly confused him. I mean, what the heck was a loo?

Alfred the butler grabbed Richards hand and, surprisingly, the boy made no protest to this action so quietly taken.

Alfred walked him up to the big, grand doors and the boy stared at them in wonder and amazement and was even a bit scared. The older man but in a sequence code in the key pad lock and opened the door. Bruce, who was waling behind, kept a wary eye on the boy, hoping he wouldn't burst out in tears. He didn't know what he said, or what had happened in the limo, but it worried him.

"This is where I live now?" Richard Grayson asked, looking around the bit foyer. The floor was Red Wood wood and was deep cherryish red. The walls were nicely paneled and had landscaped paintings and of people from Roman and Greek times., they were dark some light and some were priceless paintings from Italy. A giant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. And a few doors led to a parlor, study, ball room, two bat room's, multiple halls and one of the two kitchens. A grand staircase was in the center and it certainly made an impression. Two pedestals with separate vases were on each end of the staircase. They were beautifully sculpted glass, made in Venice Italy during the time of glass making, where it was considered an art to make it.

The six year old looked around in wonder. He spun around, taking everything in. "This looks like the house on Scooby-Do. But it was old, and haunted, and not as nice." He said, marveling at it. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to become darker in the little light provided by the chandelier and his pale, tan skin had an eerie color to it. His ebony hair was black and a bit greasy, Alfred would make him take a shower.

"Yes, this is your house now as much as it is mine or Bruce's abode. Do you want something to eat?"

"Do you have spaghetti?"

"Of course, Master Richard."

The boy gave Alfred a small smile and he looked down, feeling slightly guilty about asking for something. Alfred nodded and turned to Bruce. "Perhaps, Master Bruce, you shall show the boy to his room? I will prepare dinner," he smiled and began walking toward the kitchen, "A dinner of three. Something new for a change!" Bruce stared rather dryly after the butler and then turned to Richard, who was gone.

Bruce frowned, how had he not heard him?

"Richard?" He called. Suddenly, he felt tugging on his suit jacket. The man looked down and saw Richard staring up at him, pointing at something. "It that Rome?" He asked. Bruce followed his finger to the picture. It was a picture of a Greek Agora, like the place to talk about politics and the deity's of Greece. He couldn't help but wonder why the boy was curious or how a six year old knew about Rome.

"No, Greece actually. Why?"

"I was curious."

Oh, well then.

Bruce hefted up a sigh and picked up the Superman case with slight disgust and a wave of uncomfortableness washed through him. "Follow me, your room is one the third floor."

Richard's eyes widened at the sound of the word 'third' and 'floor' in the same sentence. This was, of course, something entirely new and it was figured by both men it would take a while to become accustomed too, this would never be his favorite lifestyle.

"Wow…," he breathed and followed Bruce up the large, curving staircase. The railing was wooden, but it felt so smooth and so much like silk that this fingers grazed it, feeling the soft, fabric-like wood under his small fingers. It shined, glinting, in the light. The walked up the stairs and then another case, avoiding a hallway. The walked in silence. The only sound was the soft 'ping-pang' of rain on the windows that brought in dull, grey light. Finally, they came to the final destination. The door was old but it belonged in the house. The simple wooden door was dark but it seemed welcoming enough.

Bruce turned the iron knob and opened the door. Richard took in a sharp intake of air as he saw the large room that would be his. A canopy bed was stationed in the middle and a desk was on the right wall. The walls were a light grey tone and most of the furniture was either dark brown or black. A big, fancy, modern dresser was near a window and a bookshelf, piled up with nice books.

Richard smiled just a tiny bit. "This is my room?" He asked, staring around wonderingly. Bruce chuckled. "Yes, do you like it?"

The boy nodded eagerly and Bruce smiled awkwardly. "Well, uh, if you need anything… just uh, call Alfred or I. I'll leave you alone now." Bruce said and when he got no response he just closed the door. Richard turned around when he heard the soft click and realized he was alone now. His slight, fake smile faded and he walked over to the big that was much to big, jumping up on it and curling into a ball, the loneliness of the room taking him in.

][][][

"Alfred, do you think this was a mistake?"

The butler looked up, surprised. Bruce was sitting at his desk, his singers laced together with his chin resting upon them; a thoughtful expression on his face. The boy had been with them for merely a week.

"And why, if you would not mind me asking, Master Bruce, would you think that?" Alfred said, putting down the duster from dusting the shelf's which contained more books than would have thought possible. Overall, the Manor held more books than the Gotham City Public Library. Bruce frowned and leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on the arms rest, the other supporting his face, his hand balled up in a fist as his cheek leaned against it.

"I… I don't know Alfred. I suppose I… he's not happy." Bruce grumbled, attempting to find the right thing to say, but sadly failing, much to his dislike. Alfred turned fully toward him, his face blank.

"Master Bruce, I have noticed as well that the boy is not happy. Give him time, he has only been here a week. It took time for you to heal, it'll take time for him." Alfred remarked, turning back to the shelves and dusting much faster than before. Bruce smiled slightly and picked up his pen. He would have gone out as Batman tonight, but had way to much Wayne Tech work and a few Charity event papers he was going to look over.

Right now Richard was in bed, sleeping. He would wake up every morning, bleary eyed and tired from lack of sleep. He said he needed Peanut, and Bruce had yet to figure out what or who that was. He had a few new clothes though, Alfred had picked some up for him. The silk pajamas had made the boy uncomfortable but he took them. He had new pants, shoes and shirts and socks. His hair was ragged when he woke up too, and Alfred would attempt to brush it, but it would always return to the shaggy look. Richard was bright, sometimes he would ask such complicated questions Bruce would have to actually think for an answer. He studied the plants and the paintings, asking where they came from and what style of painting. How he knew such questions and things; Bruce had no clue. If the boy would just... let people in, he would do well, amazing. Bruce didn't want to say how he was taught was wrong, but had the boy gone to a regular school from the beginning and not be home schooled but he was smart and had a ton of potential.

Bruce sighed. The boy generally avoided him and called him 'Mr. Wayne' all the time, even though Bruce said it was okay to call him Bruce. Maybe Richard felt uncomfortable with it but he would say Bruce once and then go back to Mr. Wayne. Bruce had eventually given up.

Richard walked around the Manor during the day, exploring and sometimes he would go outside in the gardens. Sometimes, Bruce would fine him in the green house, looking at the colorful flowers that Alfred grew. Originally, they had been his mothers. She had planted them, not asking for the gardeners, for she wanted to take pride in her garden. She had and Bruce didn't have the heart to take the plants away.

Dinner's were always held in silence and still; Bruce didn't know much of the boy. He didn't know his favorite color, animal, heck, he didn't even know his favorite food! He knew nothing except that his name was Richard John Grayson and he had grown up in a circus.

Bruce shook his head from his thoughts and leaned over the evil pile of paperwork on his desk.

And then he heard an earsplitting scream that chilled his bones.

Bruce jumped up, his chair falling on it's back and he dashed out of his private study, running toward the sound, leaving Alfred in the study. He ran up all three levels, cursing himself for putting the boy on the third floor and he burst in. Richard was in his bed, screaming in english and Romani.

"Mommy! Daddy! Please, don't go! Leave me….no!" Tears spilled down his cheeks and Bruce ran over. "Richard, Richard wake up-" The boy flew up and wrapped his arms around him, crying into his chest, well; wailing more like. Bruce froze and then gave him a slow hug back, patting him. They sat there for a few minutes and Bruce hadn't noticed Alfred bring in a tray of milk, leaving it on the dresser. He rubbed his back and the boy just sat there, sobbing into his chest.

He sat up shakily after a few more minutes. "Than… thank you…" He whispered. Bruce smiled.

"It's alright."

][][][

Well, there you go.

So, uh, I need to say this. You know those people who write at the A/N's on the bottom, 'I'm not happy with…' or 'I didn't like this chapter…' Yeah, THEN WHY DID YOU PUT IT UP! Seriously, I will never do that. If I'm not happy with a chapter then I will not put it up. I'm the author, shouldn't I be happy with my work? Yes, so if I'm not happy, it ain't going up. There, I said it. I needed to get it out. I will never put up a chapter that I don't like.

So, what's the point on asking you guys to review if more than half of you aren't going to anyway?

(off screen and annoyed, yelling out the window) "JUST REVIEW PEOPLE, IT TAKES FREAKING TEN SECONDS!"

I'm back. Bye.

Hope you liked this chapter and a question: Do any of you actually read my little quotes that I put up? Sometimes they have to do with the story and sometimes they don't. If you think about the chapter and a certain quote then you'll see they'll be tied somehow.

Faith is stepping out on nothing….and landing on something.- Unknown