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Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experience.
- Victoria Holt

Chapter 6:

The moment that the lights from the foyer and open ballroom doors hit him, Dick was bombarded with questions. People didn't rush forward like hungry animals though. Which the small boy liked; he didn't need a swarm of people after him. They were shooting off questions faster than thought possible, heck; faster than the Flash!

"-do you like living with Mr. Wayne?"

"-how do you feel about-"

"-did you do after-"

"-what's it like-"

"-miss anything-"

"-you miss your parents?"

Almost everyone froze at this last question, surprised someone would ask such a question. The man who said it began to slip away, but the few reporters around him didn't let him move, pulling their circle in tighter. Even they knew he had crossed the line, well… crossed the line even more already. Mostly the line was just a small obstacle you conscience nagged you about. Dick looked up, tears in his eyes. Why did someone ask him that? Why bring out the pain he had been trying to subdue! The small ebony haired boy looked down and he felt Bruce's hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the rest of the staircase. Once Dick was situated at the bottom, he walked up to deal with the reporter.

Dick didn't move, he just stood there. Reporters around him twitched as they saw him, their nerves begging them to just walk over and ask a few questions. But after that little fiasco, even they didn't do anything. People, Gotham's finest, did walk a little closer, doing it quite conspicuously. Women in red, silk dresses and high stilettos and men in nicely ironed tuxedos eyed him with narrowed, disappointed eyes.

Sure, he was 'cute' but he came from the low-life. The circus. Such a thing, horrendous in their eyes, would not be passed over easily with their watchful, scorning eyes.

Dick had shifted a bit and, moving away from the stairs (he lost Bruce when the people began to come closer), he looked at the people around him. The ladies' were beautiful with flawless skin and silky hair. They didn't compare to his mother, however. The man looked nice but didn't look like that had lifted a finger to do anything but order people around. They didn't compare to his father either.

"I don't know Agnes, he's kinda cute."

Dick looked up, hearing one lady say something to another. She had red hair and dark brown eyes and a tan cocktail dress. She held a champagne glass in her hand and a cigarette in another. He looked away when she caught him staring.

"I suppose, but the kid… well, didn't you hear? He's from the circus!" The second lady, Agnes, exclaimed; forming the word to her mouth in distaste. The first lady laughed, it sounded coarse… nothing like the bells of his mothers laugh. Dick shifted uncomfortably and looked up at the looming chandelier above his head, wishing it would crash down as a distraction.

"Yes, I did. Apparently his parents' died in their trapeze act, he watched. I feel sort of sad…" she said, her voice conveying something that sounded like pity, but one couldn't tell if it was mock pity or true pity. Agnes looked horrified when she heard this and looked down at the boy, who was still listening to the conversation.

They knew this, yet didn't truly acknowledge this.

"I guess I do to Marlene… he watched? A trapeze act, isn't that with the ropes and stuff? They fell? Ouch."

Marlene laughed and nodded. "Yes, they fell-" she said and then looked over, seeing the small boy with tears in his eyes. For some reason, an unknown emotion washed through her and she glanced away. "-come on, let's go over to Caroline Osborne, heard she's here with her husband," she glanced one more time at the boy and then grabbed Agnes's hand, pulling the confused lady away.

Dick looked down. He didn't want pity. Didn't need it. Shouldn't have it. Wouldn't have it. No, he wouldn't. People kept looking at him as if he was something one found in the dump and tried to fix up or with underlying pity. Most just tried to ignore him but yet wanted to see the boy 'Brucie' took in as a ward. He began to wander around, trying to find a way from the looks people were giving him.

Pity.

Disgust.

Even anger; that was vehemently displayed.

He wanted to get away from them, to slip away. Dick, of course, was a child. And more a less a child at such an event was quite a different thing. He didn't understand this (he would later) as he began walking further and further from the staircase. How long had it been? Ten minutes? Twenty? Honestly, the boy neither cared nor knew.

People gave him strnage looks, staring down at the boy as he walked by. Occasionally, someone would ask him a question and he would politely answer and then slip away once more. Little did he know, a few reporters had noticed that the boy was not with Bruce and that Bruce, well, was distracted; to say the least. They followed behind him closely, he didn't notice and if he saw them more than once it didn't occur to the six year old something might be wrong.

The elegant music was distracting as well, as well as weaving in and out of people. The lights would often go down and then brighten up, adding to what was most likely meant to be a candle lit effect. Laughter echoed of the walls and clinking of glasses and high heels on the floor made it hard to think. How could one stand these parties' was what the six year old wanted to know.

Suddenly, he found himself in quite a secluded corner. It was away from the party guests and from any other person of any sort. He looked around, watching the groups of clustered people put on fake yet convincing smiles on their faces. He sat there, looking for Alfred; but he knew the butler was elsewhere in the Manor.

Dick looked around a bit more, not noticing that five or so reporters had spotted him. He didn't notice them coming closer with every minute. He hadn't noticed the hungry look in their eyes that awaited answers. No, he hadn't. Dick simply stood there, looking quite bored, as he waited for the time to pass by. He wasn't thinking of anything particular but he felt annoyed with all the sounds.

Quiet was something he had gotten used to.

The sounds of a circus had faded into the back of his mind. People actually laughing, clapping, real smiles… that had faded and been replaced with the quiet life of the Manor. A life of little to no noise, interaction and people.

Suddenly, out of nowhere the five reporters and photographers surrounded Dick, firing off questions that no one person could possibly understand. The ballroom was so full of people's voice, music, shoes, waiters and waitresses that no one paid attention to the small group of people that seemed to be surrounding the small boy. Bruce had long since disappeared and Dick felt slightly betrayed when this happened. Sure, he didn't really like or trust Bruce but he did live with the man. He did occasionally talk to him.

But, as these people surrounded him, he didn't think of Alfred. Or, actually, of his mother. The first person to come to mind was:

Bruce.

][][][

"So, Brucie, why did you adopt the kid?"

Bruce looked down suddenly at the lady clutching his left arm. He had been lost in thought at the moment.

Dick.

Bruce looked around wildly, suddenly noticing that the boy was not by his side and hadn't been, since he brought him away from that reporter. His watchful eyes swept through the crowd of people around him, he had yet to see the ebony haired boy. Finally coming to the realization that he was most likely lost and/or scared, Bruce slipped the lady, Anastasia Montgomery's, arm out of his and turned away. "Uh… Misses Montgomery, I have to actually go find Richard, wait here a moment?"

Anastasia's mouth fell into a pout and she leaned closer. "Fine, but you better be back soon-"

"I'll try," he gruffly interrupted, but the tone of his voice said that he wasn't coming back. She scowled and flipped her blond hair over her shoulder, turning away and beginning a conversation with another Gothamite.

Bruce sighed as relief from the rich lady washed over him and he began to make his way through the crowd. Everyone was talking and people tried to stop him in order to make "friends" with the billion dollar playboy. He smiled charmingly and let them talk for a moment before disappearing with a flourish.

The crowd of people at the event didn't help but he, not that anyone knew this, was Batman. How hard would it be to one kid? He could easily find trouble in a city as big as Gotham, how hard could it be?

Harder than I thought, Bruce thought bitterly as he made his way through the swarm of people. Did they really need this many people at one event?

"-kid just stood there, listening to the conversation-"

He froze and cocked his head to the side, listening for more; picking out the voice among so many others.

"He just stood there?"

"Yeah, really weird. I didn't notice until I saw him out of the corner of my eyes. Accidentally mentioned his parents," the female voice scoffed. There was no more conversation after that. Bruce scowled and made his way over, hoping to find a clue.

It was Mrs. Garners, the wife of another rich Gothamite. She was much younger than him and often flirted with other men. Her husband didn't care, she came from a rich family like she did; that's what mattered and frankly, it disgusted Bruce. She was talking to an unknown man but right now Bruce was only concerned with finding Dick.

"Mrs. Garners! What a pleasure! You were talking about Richard? Mind telling me where you last saw him, it's seems he ran off."

The lady looked over and she smirked, her eyes narrowing as she took the man in. "Last I saw he was heading that way," she pointed toward the South and then her smirk widened, "Say, why are you looking for him anyway? Lose him?"

Bruce scowled and looked away. "No, it seems he ran off; like I said," he growled. She pouted and looked away, her brown eyes narrowing, and nodded.

"Fine, he's that way, like I said."

Bruce nodded and turned away from the insufferable young lady and walked in the direction he pouted, hoping he hadn't been deceived. If he had… well, Batman couldn't pay a visit for that, but he certainly wished he could. He did care for the boy and Bruce had soon realized that even though Dick most likely didn't like him, the boy had wormed his way into the dark knights heart. Even without knowing it.

This didn't bother Bruce on bit.

His eyes scanned the area once more, now that he was in the area Mrs. Garner directed him to, he felt a tad bit more relaxed than he should. He noticed clusters of people but one caught his attention. A group of men, reporters by the looks of it, had centered themselves in a corner of the ballroom. They were hunched over, as if scheming on what horrible questions they could ask today. He waked over, now hearing questions be fired off like canon shots.

Oh gosh.

He stomped over, anger bubbling in him as he made his way over. He grabbed on of the reporters and then spun him around.

][][][

Dick felt his back press up against the wall.

The men seemed to still come closer. He felt closed in, not that it mattered, but he didn't like being cornered by men who acted like hungry dogs. His eyes frantically darted around, looking for a way out. But they, literally, had him in a corner. He was actually stuck in the corner of the two walls. A man with beady black eyes smiled an oh-so-fake smile as he pressed closer. Dick whimpered and shrunk back, hoping that maybe he could faze through the wall like he'd seen the Flash do on television.

Suddenly, a large hand ripped the man away from him, spinning him around.

Bruce.

The reporter spun around and scowled at first. "Hey!" he exclaimed and then saw who it was. He gulped, seeing a not to please Bruce Wayne in front of him. He jumped and the rest of the people that had been crowding Dick looked, much to their dislike, like they were ready to run and cower.

Wayne looked almost as scary as the dark night.

"What… do you think you're doing?" the man growled, his hand loosening, however, on the reporters shirt.

"Uh… leaving actually! Nice meeting you Mr. Wayne, it's been a real pleasure!" Bruce's eyes narrowed but he et go, moving away as the reporters and photographers dashed away. Even through that, no one took notice of the exchange. Dick stared up at Bruce, slightly frightened at how dark the man had become. Did he really care?

Bruce leaned down to eye level, ignoring some of the gazes that they had attracted. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

Dick shook his head hurriedly and Bruce let out a sigh of relief. "Good, do you… want to go to your room?"

He nodded.

"Alright, come on," he said and grabbed the boy by the shoulder, Dick flinched but Bruce didn't let go as they moved through the crowd. People stared and once they'd pass; began to break out in whispers. Bruce resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

They made it up the stairs and Alfred met them at the door.

A smile was playing on the old man's lips as he grabbed Richards hand. "I figured my assistance would be required. Come on Master Richard, perhaps we can watch some television…" the butler said and closed the door.

Dick didn't even look back.

Two Months later, November 2nd, 2004:

"Skipping…. skipping…. skipping…. jump…. skipping…. skipping…" Dick mumbled to himself as he skipped down the Manor. He had brightened much faster in the last two months since Bruce had 'saved him' than in the entire time he had been at the Manor. He hummed to himself and sometimes attempted to make conversation with Bruce.

Merely little things, really, but conversations nonetheless. They would be mostly one-sided, Bruce or Dick, and lasted no longer than a few minutes. But still, conversations.

Alfred was a more happier man it seemed. Dick brightened his life as well, he liked to talk to the man sometimes; why he worked for Bruce, why he lived here, what his favorite color was, nonsense things really; but the British butler paid no mind.

Bruce also seemed to have a little more light in his life. He seemed to smile more and sometimes he would laugh; thinking of things Dick would do occasionally. When they did talk it was short, respectable and quiet but it seemed to take it's toll on the man. No matter how little it was.

"One… two… three…" Dick muttered under his breath and skipped a little more. He was going toward the staircase when, suddenly, a wondrous thought entered his mind.

The banister.

The way he was standing on top of the staircase made him think of sliding down that silky banister. It was perfect. He would be able to fly! Well, not fly like he used to but still; the feeling of wind in his hair made him smile. Oh, how had he not thought of this before?

He grinned as he made his way to the banister, the fact of the floor greeting him had not yet occurred as he put his leg over it. He sat there for a moment, basking in the presence of being up high, for if he looked downward at his right, only the floor remained, not the stairs that was under his left foot. His hands helped him from sliding forward and then… he let go.

The wind rushed passed him as he slid down and he laughed… he actually laughed.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Bruce looked up.

Was that… was that laughter? He set down his pen and glanced over at Alfred, who was making tea. They both looked at each other, quite confused.

"Is that…?"

"I think so…," Bruce said and then dropped is pen completely, running out of the kitchen. He ran down the hall and he heard Alfred behind him. The foyer was just a few feet away and he rushed in, only to freeze with what he saw.

Dick was sliding down the banister.

"Oh my!" Alfred exclaimed behind him. Bruce watched as the boy slid down the banister, gaining speed and momentum. "Dick!" He yelled but the boy, not hearing him over the wind, did not reply. Bruce merely watched as he reached the end of the banister, waiting for him to go flying across the room, not high up. Yes, he went up. In the air, laughing all the way. Both he and Alfred gasped as he grabbed the chandelier and used the momentum to fly forward, he did so. He was still laughing as he flipped around the chandelier and then flew downward. He kept himself in a tuck until the last moment; when he unfurled himself and landed, knees bent and arms down but then he jumped up and threw his arms up.

Bruce and Alfred just stared. When he saw them, however, he stiffened and his arms fell to his side. His smile, the one that had been on his face when he had been with his parents, faded and his blue eyes went wide. Bruce, suddenly, smiled.

Dick stared at him and then attentively smiled back. Smiled.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0

"Batman? Batman?"

Batman's head snapped up and he scowled in Shayera's direction. He was in a founders meeting right now and, like most other meetings, he really wasn't paying attention. Well, he did pay attention for League meetings but right now he was thinking of his… ward. He was thinking of that spectacular flip that the boy had done not but a few days ago.

Hehadsmiled. And at himself, which had made that day all the more better. The boy had even talked a little with him during dinner, which normally would have been uncomfortable and quiet. Alfred had, after dinner, scolded the boy for doing such a thing, telling him that the boy almost gave him a heart attack. And then Dick asked whether or not he had liked it and in which Alfred's face has softened and he smiled, nodding in reply.

"What?" He snapped at the Thanagarian, giving her a bat-glare for interrupting his nice thoughts. She glared at him and sighed, propping her elbows on the table.

"Weren't you listening?"

No response.

Shayera sighed and looked at Superman, who was watching Batman warily.

"Well," she began, "we were deciding on whether or not-"

"Leave it," Superman said, "I'll explain it to him later. Dismissed."

Everyone stood up, eyeing Batman warily but then letting it go and leaving. Wonder Woman stopped at the door and cast a long 'You're talking' look and then leaving. Superman walked over to Batman, who was still seated with his elbows propped up on the table and resting his chin on his linked hands. He stared straight ahead while Superman stared at him. Neither said anything for a few moments, soaking in the silence.

Normally, the darkness and eeriness seemed to cling to The Dark Knight but, right now, it seemed that the shadows had betrayed him, letting him sit in the spotlight.

"Something's bothering you," Superman said, not moving from his spot a few feet away.

Batman didn't look up or over. He didn't reply for a few more minutes. "Not exactly," he finally replied. Superman sighed and looked away, slightly annoyed. Batman scowled, not wanting to talk. Frankly, he wanted to get home. "Then what?"

"Richard," this was said instantly, overlapping Superman's question. Superman's eyebrows went up and he looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn't have asked anything. Batman didn't say anything as he stood up, not looking at the Kryptonian al the while. Superman watched him, perhaps waiting for a signal for him to speak. But nothing came, not that he should have expected it.

"Oh, uh… it's been awhile. How's he been?"

"He's laughed… and smiled. Kent, I'm going; please don't bother me," The Dark Knight said and then swept from the room, heading toward the Zeta-beam transporters.

Superman watched and then sighed. Stupid antisocialism.

][][][

"Somewhere…. over the rainbow…" Alfred sung under his breath, watching Dick eat. The boy gobbled up the grilled cheese quite fast. Bruce wasn't in today, he had a Wayne Enterprises meeting but the butler knew he wanted to be here.

Alfred could see that, even though the younger man didn't admit it, he already saw the boy as a… son of some sort. He was unsure whether or not he should try to get closer, for fear that Dick might think he's replacing his father or perhaps both his parents. But Alfred knew that Dick looked up to him, even if what was there was in small quantity.

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Richard?"

"Why is Bruce never here?"

Alfred pursed his lips and turned away, beginning to wash the dishes. He couldn't come up with an answer that would disappoint the boy but he needed a valid one. Work? No, disappointment was written all over that one. What else?

Dick waited for an answer. Nothing. He didn't know what to expect from the butler, but as soon as the older man had turned away he knew he was looking for the perfect answer. Not that he really needed one, nor had he expected himself to ask such a question. It had slipped out of his mouth on accident. He had gotten so used to the small talk with Bruce that this silence at dinner (at the very least) wasn't welcomed like the other silence.

"Alfred? Dick? I'm home," Bruce walked into the kitchen, still in his working suit; brief case in hand. Alfred turned, surprised. Dick was too. "Master Bruce? You're home early!" he stated and then, when he thought Dick wasn't looking, beamed. Bruce chuckled and nodded, setting his stuff down on the granite counters. "Yes, well, the meeting wasn't all that important."

Dick looked at him strangely. Had he perhaps heard his question? Would he be angry? He didn't look it, but one could never really tell with Bruce Wayne. Was the man as bad as the newspapers made him?

"Dick, mind if I sit here?"

Dick gave a small smile and shook his head. No, he wasn't that bad after all.

][][][

Review please, I'll try and update faster if done. And I hope you liked this one, it seems Bruce and Dick are getting closer!

Wherever you go, go with all your heat,- Winston Churchill