:) Hi.

I have no idea when Gotham was founded... so... bare with me. And, sorry for the shortness. This sucks.

There is nothing to fear, but fear itself- Some Presidant whose name has slipped my mind...

Chapter: 13

The ride back was silent.

Batman had taken Zucco down and called the police, giving them more than enough evidence to say that he murdered Richard's parents. Gordon thanked him but when he turned around, Batman and the Batmobile were gone, two occupants taking up the inside. Neither said anything, letting the silence reign free. Dick fidgeted a lot, the blow to his side far worse than he was making it out to be. He couldn't sit back all the way and let his back contort to fit into the seat. Bruce stared straight ahead, not making a single move to do anything.

But, what could he say? I'm ashamed? He was, yet he wasn't. He was slightly proud that an eight year old could sneak into a forty year old man's apartment, let alone access the Batcave files without a problem. Then again, he'd left it up. A mistake on his part. He knew Dick had been thirsting for revenge, just as he had... did, even, but he didn't want his son to end up bitter and alone like him.

The boy, well, Dick was too different. His fate had too different as well.

"I am sorry," Dick mumbled from the car seat next to Batman, he mumbled something for the first time since the apartment. He shifted in the seat of the Batmobile, looking out of the windows to the passing buildings. Bruce glanced at him, unable to think of something to say. What was he to say? It seemed this question was popping up far too much. He wasn't good with dealing with people's emotions, he blocked almost everything out when his parents had died, anything to do with his emotions.

"It's okay, we'll talk about this later," Bruce managed to reply, glancing at Dick with cautious eyes. To say the least, he was also impressed, Dick was eight... and he'd taken a man far older than him. Sure, he'd lost... but he had no training. If he was trained, maybe he would be able to... help. No, Bruce told himself, Dick had to stay out of this life. A bitter, smug voice in the back of his head told him it was too late. The thrill, it was addicting. Just a little more, help a few more people, be a hero. The adrenaline rush that you got was enticing, you could feel your blood pumping through your veins as bullets rained down on you.

And he had seen where Dick had thrown the Batarang with such accuracy, it would make ninjas jealous. Odd analogy, but it was the best he could think of. Dick was good, better than most, a certainly worthy of being trained. No, he growled to himself, hands tightening on the wheel as the drove into the batcave 's secret entrance, he wouldn't do that. And no, he wouldn't let Dick go back to the orphanage.

He said he'd always be there. And there was no way, that promise was leaving.

As they entered the Batcave, Alfred stood there waiting for him. The British butler held a tray that had hot chocolate and a steaming wet washcloth. He watched as the lid of the car opened and Bruce got out, helping Dick undo the seat belt that kept him save.

The small boy climbed out, walking towards Alfred. He stopped a few feet away and then burst into tears. Both older men were at his side in an instant, asking him what was wrong. It was quite obvious, truly, on what was wrong, but both men were worried for the small boy, who bright blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.

"Dick, it's alright, you're fine, you're safe," Bruce said, pulling him into a hug., surprising both Alfred and Richard.

The words 'you're safe' rang in Dick's head, he blinked, looking over Bruce's shoulder as the man grasped him tightly. He felt... warm, and he felt safe. Bruce wasn't mad at him, sure, he may be disappointed, but he was... proud. It was an odd sense of pride, that Bruce had, but Dick could feel it in the hug. It was positively grand.

"Thank you," Richard Grayson muttered, right into his second father's shoulder. Bruce rubbed his back comfortingly, smiling slightly as he stared at the steel floors, a warm feeling spreading through his stomach. The initial distrust that Richard had formed between them like a barricade had been taken down after that night. He was still wary of Bruce, and he still talked to his parents every night, but he liked the man better now. And now, Dick was thinking he could be a far better helper than ever.

You're safe.

][][][

Another Charity event was later that week. Dick was dressed up in the restraining piece of junk called a suit, his hair slicked back with gel and blue eyes bright with those questions that always haunted and roamed through his mind. He was paler, now, from that year of homeschooling and staying inside the Manor with Alfred. His skin still had that gypsy tan to it, though, and Dick often boasted to Bruce that he was far more handsome.

Bruce simply rolled his eyes.

They arrived to the event, which was something for the GCPD, a funding project or something, in a limo. News reporters from Metropolis, Gotham City, Star City and Washington took thousands of pictures. Richard shrunk back a bit and then compared it to the circus, realizing it was practically the same thing. He smiled nervously at first, giving small waves and then began to smile bigger. It was all a facade, Bruce had told him. He had to act like he was fitting into life as a rich child. Personally, he knew his mother wouldn't approve, but he decided that it was alright if it was supposed to be fake, even if he was told he always should be himself. Well, he was, just not in front of these people.

So far, everything was grand.

The building was old, with French architecture, and it had gargoyles, as did most of Gotham's older building, which were snarling and growling at the other stone buildings. The windows were the old kind which distorted everything in view and the had carvings of ivy all around them. Written in stone above everyone's head, the sign said, "House of Liberties Est. 1756", it was old, almost as old as Gotham itself, which was established 1748.

They walked into a grand open room with marble floors and a chandelier made of crystal hanging from the ceiling. People in elegant clothing holding champagne glasses laughed delicately, their smiles so obviously fake. Many of the people were in their police uniforms, though none of them were drinking. A few women walked up to Bruce and began to talk to him, getting closer with every minute. Richard always looked the other direction, scowling. Bruce would politely excuse himself, winking toward Richard, and then walked off to talk with a few of the officers.

Eventually, Richard wandered over to a table full of small and elegant desserts, along with drinks that were non-alcoholic. He scrunched his nose up at a women with puffy pink lips who tried to talk to him and then walked away once he'd open his mouth to reply.

"Don't bother," another lady said, walking over, "they're all too egotistical anyway, kid."

The woman had black hair and dark, navy blue eyes. She was wearing a silver dress, which reached to the floor. It hung on her shoulders with thin straps, but she looked elegant. The smile on her face was mischievous, and the way she held herself showed that she could take care of herself. He liked the way she had said 'they're' as if she herself was not included in that.

Richard nodded, knowing exactly was egotistical meant, and looked up at the lady. Her dress fitted her nicely, but he still thought his mother was far more beautiful.

"I figured," he retorted, shrugging, "they all ignore me anyway. Why bother?"

She laughed gaily, obviously pleased with his response, and smiled down at him. "Sure are right kid, my name is Miss Kyle, by the way, and it was nice talking to you kid. You're gonna make it here. Just ignore all these smart-alecks and you'll do fine." And with that she was far into the crowd, leaving the boy slightly confused and irritated with how these people kept disappearing. He shook his head, frowning as he walked closer toward the table.

He felt someone bump into him and, jumping backward, he saw a girl with red hair and blue eyes looking down at him. Both he and the girl looked surprised to see one another and then her face brightened as she looked him over.

"You're Richard Grayson!"

He nodded weakly, smiling a bit. The girl was only ten or so and she was dressed in a nice purple dress. Her blue eyes were wide as she looked down at him.

"Yeah-" he began, but was cut off when she continued.

"You're that orphan kid!"

Her eyes widened once she realized that she said it and he stumbled back, looking surprised. His surprise soon turned to anger as he balled his fists and turned away. Her face turned apologetic but he shook her off.

"Yeah," he muttered bitterly, "that orphan kid."

He turned and began to walk away, not realizing that she had every intention of following and apologizing. Barbara Gordon stalked off and grabbed him by the wrist, spinning him around and looking at him full in the eyes. Dick blinked as he stared into her blue eyes, looking at them with his cobalt/azure ones. Neither of them said anything as people walked by, laughing and talking away as if they had nothing to worry about.

"I'm sorry," she admitted, smiling sheepishly down at the eight year old under her.

He shrugged, "Okay."

"That's it?" she asked, staring at him with narrowed eyes, "I just called you an orphan kid and that's how you reply? 'Okay'?"

"Yep."

"I like you, wanna hang out?"

"Sure."

Yes, things were certainly looking grand.

I wrote this all in one day...

Review?