Sorry I haven't updated!

I've really stressed out, since we're moving in all and people are like, "UPDATE SOON!" on my 'A Look' story. But, I'll be focusing on this one! I would have actually updated sooner, but I've been watching The Batman and Justice League Unlimited to get a feel for the leaguers and Bruce Wayne. They should be more in character now if they weren't before. Therefore, the Bruce Wayne in this is sort of like the one in The Batman; whereas he is young, in his twenties (we're making it 25 in this, therefore he is 20 when he stared being Batman) and sort of like: Grrrrrrr, don't mess with me, yet he's young so he still smiles sometimes, smirks and acts a little egotistic. He's still unsure of himself though and but he has the hero thing down though.

So, he'll be 32 when Dick is 13, when the show takes place. I had to downplay the ages though, sorry if that bothers you. And thanks to everyone who voted in the poll. It's still up in case a few of you missed it. :)

Again, my apologies for not updating.

Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.
- Grandma Moses

Chapter 7:

"Master Bruce, there is someone here to see you, sir," Alfred said, leaning in the doorway with a slightly confused look on his face. He acted like he was missing some important piece of information that he greatly desired, but let fall past his hands. His eye brows were furrowed as he stared at Bruce with faded sky blue eyes. Bruce looked up from his paper work, brow furrowed as he stared at the older man. Normally, he didn't have people come to his house. It generally wasn't allowed by him, some people tended to wander around and most of his work was done in the office anyway. Besides, with Dik being all over Gotham City news, he would be bombarded with questions.

"Uh, who is it?" he asked, glancing at the door warily. The butler swallowed and looked behind his shoulder grimly. Bruce stared at him, awaiting an answer.

"They have chosen to remain anonymous until they see you sir. Shall I let them in?" questioned the butler, letting out a weak cough. He covered it up with his white gloved hand and gave a weak smile that said a million apologies. Bruce stared at him, frowning, wandering who it could be that was making the man so nervous. He nodded and gestured for the man to open the door. The butler nodded and disappeared behind it. The oak doors creaked as they moved a bit, pressure being put upon them.

The person who walked in was not who he expected.

Diana Prince.

In other words: Wonder Woman.

"Bruce," she stated calmly, walking further into the private study, "we need to talk." Her voice was stern, firm and commanding; like when she was Wonder Woman. She crossed her arms now in front of her, shifting her weight onto her right leg. They stared at each other for a few moments like this, neither wanting to give into to the other. It was a staring contest of course. The bat-glare against the Amazonian princess glare of talk-right-now-or-meet-my-fists-of-ultimate-fury. She often gave that look to criminals. Of course, now that he was being giving the look, he felt like the criminal that GPD had originally accused him of being when he had first started out. Then again, he had also been called an Urban Legend.

Of course, the bat-glare won and the princess looked away. Though, now he knew what had the butler so nervous. An angry Wonder Woman would never be anything good. "Look, Bruce," she started, "something's wrong. You got distracted during a League meeting."

"And?" he asked, "It's very much possible for me to get distracted. I'm only human," he leaned back in his comfy chair, looking at her amused. She scowled and lifted her head higher as her eyes wandered around the room. She inspected the study with narrowed eyes, taking in the priceless paintings and vases. The paneled, dark walls interested her to no end. They didn't have paneled walls back on her home island. Most buildings were made of marble there. Then again, this was modeled after the English Manors back in Great Britain, where paintings from the Italian Renaissance and Venetian Art were stocked high and proudly presented on the walls.

"You're the Batman, you don't just get distracted," she pointed out, her blue eyes returning back toward the man.

Without skipping a beat, the man replied, "Glad to know."

Once again the lady scowled, her muscles in her arms tensed as she glared at him. He sighed and held his hands up in defense, yet a smirk played on his lips. He knew he shouldn't be messing with an angry (for what he was unsure) Diana Prince. Then again, he knew her weakness (not that is would or should come to a fight) so, if she did lash out, like she constantly did with Flash, he would be able to get out. Either way, he was fine. Verbal arguments he had down.

"Bruce," she said warningly, her eyes narrowing. He sighed and then got on a poker face, so, in short, his Batman face. It wasn't everyday that this face would show through his Bruce Wayne face, but at the moment it did happen. He knew, deep down and subconsciously, that Bruce Wayne really didn't really exist. Batman was who he really was and wanted to be. Bruce Wayne died that night along with his parents, all those years ago.

"Fine, fine," he sighed, giving in to her glare, "what do you want to talk about?"

"You. What's going on? You've been unresponsive for that last few months, always rushing home for something. What's the rush?" she questioned him, smirking slightly, sensing his discomfort. The man shifted in his seat. He didn't have anything against Diana finding out about Dick, he was just wary how the kid would react to someone else other than Alfred and himself. He hadn't been going to school. Alfred was homeschooling him, just like he had when he was living with his parents so he'd feel comfortable. He was about a level above his own age level. So, instead of working on first grade things he worked on second grade things. His cursive was really good, actually.

"Well-"

"Bruce?" a voice said. Bruce nearly face-palmed, nearly; mind you. Dick's head was poking into the study, his brow was furrowed in concentration and he looked liked he had recently been crying. Diana spun around, yet when she saw they boy she turned and stared at Bruce confusedly. Bruce sighed as Dick walked into the room. He wore his blue striped pajamas and his onyx hair was laying over his hair scruffily, hanging in his bright blue eyes.

"Yes, Dick?"

"I had another nightmare," the boy whimpered, "and I couldn't find Alfred."

Bruce nodded understandingly. Alfred was probably cleaning out the Batcave at the moment, so he couldn't hear Dick scream. Come to think of it, Bruce hadn't heard Dick scream. Normally the kid would yell out in rapid Romani when he had a nightmare and Bruce would hear it echo throughout the entire house. Sometimes it was scary, sounding like someone was torturing the boy. Whenever Bruce thought this, he thought it was cruel; because in a sense, it was like the boy's own mind was torturing him.

"Well, come on. Do you want to talk about it?"

Dick walked slowly over to Bruce, edging away from Diana; who was staring at the boy with wide eyes. He walked over to Bruce, of course he still didn't really like Bruce, or trust him for that matter. But since the butler and Bruce were the only other people in the Manor; he'd have to settle for it. Besides, he knew Bruce was the only one who could truly comfort him. Alfred was okay, but he didn't know how Dick really felt.

Dick stood by the desk and stared up at Bruce and shook his head. No, he didn't want to talk about it. Bruce nodded, but didn't know what else to do. Should he let the boy sit up on his lap?

"Who's that?" Dick asked, pointing up at Diana; who had turned to stare at Bruce with narrowed but wide eyes.

"That is… a friend of mine. Diana met Richard Grayson, my ward," Bruce said, glancing at Richard to see is reaction. The boy flinched, usually hearing the word 'son' when he was introduced to someone new he hadn't met before. He was still getting used to that, even though it had been a few months since it happened.

Diana nodded and walked over. "Hi, a pleasure to meet you Richard. My name is Diana Prince," she held out her hand for him to shake it. The kid's own tan yet pale hand quickly grasped her's and they shook. Diana smiled at the boy.

He already had her wrapped around his finger with a simple hand shake.

November 22, Thanksgiving day 8:46 A.M. 2004

Dick's eyes fluttered open.

He sat there, staring at the roof of his canopy bed; which was, by the way, bigger than his old kitchen. And yeah, he did that now. He called his old life, well, old. It was gone, gone in the wind. With a simple blink of an eye it was gone. He called it old. It was old. The memories still breezed through his mind all day. Smiles, laughter. Blood, panic stricken eyes. It was both of those memories. Memories of happiness and ones of loss. Memories that made he himself smile as he thought about them. Yet everytime he closed his eyes, the images haunted him.

His fault.

He should have saved them.

Tony Zucco.

He should have said something.

His fault.

He didn't.

He could have saved him.

He. Didn't.

The boy let out a small whimper as these thoughts consumed him so early in the morning. He rolled over and pulled the covers closer to his chin, blinking away tears all the while. The streamed down his face and he hiccupped. Sometimes those good memories would cause him pain even more worse than the bad ones. Her smile, his laughter. He couldn't even say mom and dad without crying. It reminded him to much.

Of course, as he got older he would be able to. He knew as he got older that life would have to go on and he couldn't cling to the past. But he was six, so these thoughts had been very simple minded, but still further developed than a regular six year old. He knew this, that he was smarter than most kids his age. He knew this and basked in it, knowing his parents would have been proud.

"Master Richard," Alfred's voice sounded through the door and Dick looked up from his cocoon. "Young Master, you are required for breakfast downstairs. It is Thanksgiving young master," the butler said, his voice was muffled though through the large door door. Dick sat up and swallowed down the lump in his throat; memories of past Thanksgivings flooding into his mind.

"Come in, Alfred," he whispered, but Alfred didn't hear it. It was lost in the vastness of the room.

"What was that, sir?"

"I said come in!" Dick croaked, his voice cracking. Images passed through his mind: His mother making a Turkey with he helping from the sidelines. His father would always show Dick a new trick on the trapeze on Thanksgiving. At supper they would eat the wonderful turkey that he and his mother had made and each would list of a bunch of things they were thankful for. The first things were always silly and made no sense but then it would get serious. He always gave thanks for his family, then they would pray and then eat. How could he give thanks for a family that didn't exist anymore?

Tears flooded his eyes.

The door creaked open and the butler stepped in, his face conveying worry. "Master Richard, are you alright? No, you are not. Come here sir," the man sat down on the edge of the bed, and picked the boy up, pulling him into a hug. The boy let out silent tears as he buried his face in Alfred's chest. The older British man stroked the boy's shaggy onyx hair.

"Come sir, we'll get you ready and through the day. Would like you like to come down?"

Dick seemed to contemplate this idea in his head. He was hungry and he wanted… he did want to see Bruce. He… he had come to realize this at the moment, he wanted to see Bruce. To thank him. To thank him for a family, no mind how small. The initial mistrust of the man seemed to have faded away as this realization came to him. Dick looked up at Alfred and nodded, jumping out of the bed and running down the hall.

Alfred stood up, slightly shocked, and followed after him.

][][][

Bruce sat at the table with the newspaper propped up in front of him.

His coffee was in front of him and he reached forward to grab it, yet hearing the sound of running caused him to look up, brow furrowed. He shrugged, thinking it was simply his imagination. Suddenly, he felt something up his crushed into his leg.

"Oof!" he dropped the paper to be greeted with Dick hugging his leg. He blinked. "Dick, what are you-"

"Thank you, Bruce, for taking me in."

Bruce blinked and then smiled.

"You're welcome."

][][][

"Sir, Mistress Prince is calling you. Would you like to take the call?"

Bruce looked up once more to see Alfred with the phone in his hand, arm outstretched toward the bachelor. His face was stoic as he stared down at the younger man. Bruce seemed to contemplate it, to pick up or not to pick up. That was the question.

"Hand me the phone, Alfred," the man replied, knowing if he didn't pick it up now, Diana would simply fly in for a visit and either way she would get what she wanted to talk about. Alfred smirked a bit at Bruce, who smiled dryly at the older man.

"Diana?" he asked, knowing exactly how she would respond.

"Who else?"

Yep.

"Diana, I don't mean to be rude-"

"Then don't."

He continued as if she hadn't just spoken, "-but I'm a bit busy right now."

"I'm sure you could make some time. Clark and I have been talking; we're both a tad worried with your lack of League assistance."

He scowled and shifted in his seat, watching as Dick flipped a page in his book. The boy's eyes narrowed as he read the book, confused with the words. Bruce was pretty sure that he was reading Charles Dickens, or perhaps C.S Lewis. Not that he would protest, but it was a tad bit above his grade level. Dick had asked if he could read in the study as Bruce worked. Bruce had not, of course, objected as he opened the door for the boy to enter. The child had immediately gone toward the book shelves, looking at all the books with wide eyes. He had to ask Bruce what a few of the titles meant and had ended up throwing those to the crocodiles, going toward the books that he could understand.

As Dick shifted and lifted the cover of his book, Bruce could now see it was in fact C.S Lewis. He was reading the Magician's Nephew. Bruce stared at it confused, where did that come from? He didn't remember buying it… perhaps Alfred gave it to him, or Dick found it somewhere in the boxes downstairs. The boy seemed to be enjoying it, because he would smile or laugh at random moments. Bruce faintly remembered reading the book and wondered why the kid was laughing.

Bruce glanced at the phone. He had been, not that he would care to admit, avoiding the league a bit. Flash had called him about seventeen times last week and Alfred got fed up and but it so it would call to China. Bruce got to listen in, a very awkward conversation. He had been, actually, trying to spend more time with Dick; trying to get the kid to trust him a bit more. They had grown closer since Thanksgiving, which had been about two weeks ago. Dick seemed to want to spend a little more time with Bruce, trying to get the closed up man talk. He gave out short quick answers to hard, complicated questions. He always asked Bruce about the Manor or his work. Well, his daytime line of work.

"Bruce? Are you still there?"

Bruce's thoughts snapped back to the fact that he was on the phone. "Yes, I'm here. What did Clark say about me?" he asked suspiciously, eyes narrowing; contracting an almost Batman look. Dick looked up, recognizing the name Clark, but then shrugged and stuck his head back in the book.

"He just said you were not really responding to your Comm. link and that it was generally turned off and that when it wasn't you ignored him. Everytime. I know that you don't like Clark that much, Bruce, but that's a bit extreme."

He sighed, "You said so yourself princess, I'm the Batman."

He could imagine her glaring at her phone, blue eyes blazing with irritancy. She would then grip the phone as if it were his neck, crushing it slightly and he would hear a slight crack and then proceed to ask her what that was. She would then lie through her teeth, end the connection and then burst into your house a few minutes later and continue the chat.

"Shut up, Batman. I'm coming, and I'm bringing Clark," she replied with, her voice suddenly brightening. Bruce groaned. He really didn't want to deal with Boy scout right now and frankly, he didn't want to deal with Diana either. Especially one that wasn't necessarily in the mood to talk.

"No, Diana-" but the connection had already cut off. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. It would be a few minutes for them to arrive and he would just be sitting here.

"Bruce?"

Bruce looked down to see Dick staring up at him. The blue eyes stared at him shyly, like he really didn't want to be there. Bruce blinked, surprised he hadn't noticed the boy move or get up. Normally, the small acrobat would make some sort of noise, even if it was so small that no one else could detect it; Batman could.

"Yes?"

"Could… could you tuck me in?"

Bruce smiled. He was very thankful.

][][][

Okay, so this chapter began a few days before Thanksgiving. The second part was Thanksgiving and the third part with Bruce talking with Diana was in the middle of December. Next chapter will be Christmas and New Years. You can now see he had Clark and Diana with him. We'll be doing major events now such as his birthday, parents' deaths' anniversary, first day of school, sometimes during the summer and then some little bits in between. Do you guys want to see the talk between Clark, Bruce and Diana? I'll write it if you do. Just put a cookie in your review.

Question: What has been your favorite scene so far?

So, I have already come to the consolation that I lost a bunch of reviewers since I haven't updated, so those that are still there; thanks for sticking through the entire month and a little more since I've last updated. So, press the very wonderful eye-catching blue button? You should.

I got distracted.

Duh.

Sorry.

Forgive me? ;)

Sincerely,

Fighter1357

P.S: I am looking for beta to help me with my 'Capta' story. Check it out please. They will probably help me with a lot of my YJ nad Teen Titans story, but IDK.

P.S.S: I will update quicker next time.

Love builds bridges where there are none.- Unknown