There is a brief POV change in the middle of this where I switch to Bruce, but otherwise, the rest of the chapter (like 99% of the story) is all in Dick's POV.

No Warnings . . .

The next day dawned, dark and dreary, as new clouds moved in. It was colder today, Dick determined, looking at the frost on the windows, but not enough for snow. There is a knock on the door. Dick sat up as Bruce walked in, already dressed for work.

How late is it? Dick gaped at the clock. Seven o'clock in the morning?

"Good morning, chum," Bruce's deep voice rumbled. "Are you not getting up this morning?"

"I must have overslept," Dick admitted, sheepishly. He had always been an early riser, but the past couple of nights he had been staying up too late.

"Hm," Bruce hummed noncommittedly. He pulled the upholstered chair close to the bed. "Have you not been sleeping well?"

Although the sentence was posed as a question, it was said like a statement. Dick swallowed. Did Bruce somehow know Dick was roaming the house last night?

"I woke up around midnight," Dick told him. "I'm sorry."

Bruce leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. "You don't need to be sorry for not being able to sleep, Dick. However, that being said, you should probably be sorry that you disobeyed me last night and opened your window again after I specifically told you not to."

Fear slithered up Dick's spine. How did he know? And then a worst thought followed on the heels of that one. Is he going to send me away?

"Why did you open your window last night?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," Dick cried out; scooting back into his bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. "I-I forgot!"

"You forgot?" Bruce stared at the child, disbelievingly.

"I-I saw the wolf again," Dick stammered quickly. "I wanted to see it better, so I opened the window. I forgot what you said. I-I just wanted to see the wolf better! I'm sorry! I won't do it again. I promise!"

Bruce frowned, but didn't say anything for a moment.

"The dog came back, you said?" Bruce looked toward Dick's window.

Dick nodded his head. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't find you . . . Or Alfred."

Bruce's gaze returned to Dick's when he said this. "You were looking for me last night," he asked.

Dick nodded; the movement a little smaller. Was he going to get into trouble for that, too?

"I stepped out for a little walk," Bruce told him. "I'm sorry if you were frightened."

"I-I wasn't frightened," he said. Much.

Bruce smiled at that. "Brave boy," he praised him.

The edges of a smile appeared at that.

Suddenly, the connection was made and Dick gasped. "The wolf was back! There are bound to be paw prints! Can we go look now, please?"

Without waiting for an answer, he shoved the blankets back and was rolling out of bed and onto his feet. Dick darted over to the dresser where Alfred had put away his meager belongings. The drawer held a couple of pairs of pants that Dick had brought with him as well as three new pair that Alfred had bought him in addition to the socks. He grabbed the first pair his hand landed on.

Bruce chuckled a little at the abrupt appearance of this bundle of energy.

"Hold up, kiddo," he held up a hand as his face morphed into something regretful. "I have a meeting this morning. I don't have time . . ."

"B-But . . ." Dick glanced at the window just as a few drops of rain began to splatter against its panes. "They'll be washed away!"

Bruce stood up and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. Despite how small he was, Bruce could feel the strength within him.

"I'll try to make it home a little earlier today," Bruce told him. "I make no promises," he added quickly, "but tomorrow is the weekend. Maybe we can manage something then if the storms let up."

The disappointment was tempered by the promise of the weekend. Dick nodded.

"I need to be going now," Bruce said. "I'm sorry we didn't get to have breakfast together today, but the meeting starts in . . ." he glanced at his watch, "forty minutes! Good Lord! I need to get going; I'm going to be late!"

Dick suddenly launched himself at Bruce's waist; hugging the man for all he was worth.

Bruce's first inclination was to pry the boy away and dash for the car, but he could feel a quiet desperation behind the boy's grip. Bruce loosened the child's hold and kneeled down in front of him. Dick hesitated only a second before his arms wound their way around the man's neck.

Bruce carefully slid his own arms around the child, drawing him close and patting him awkwardly on the back. He really wasn't very good at this.

"It's going to be all right, chum," Bruce murmured in Dick's ear. "I promise you that."

Dick's arms tightened a little bit more, if that were possible, and then the boy pulled away.

"Thank you," Dick said quietly; running his pajama sleeve across his nose.

Bruce winced a little internally. He hoped he didn't have a souvenir left behind because he didn't have time to change. He ruffled the boy's hair; oddly, the action brought a bit of order to the unruly locks that had, until this point, been sticking out in all directions.

He stood up. "You're welcome," he said, turning towards the door. "I know it is raining now, but should it let up later, I don't want you going outside today, okay?"

Dick followed him out into the hallway.

"Why not," Dick asked him.

"I need to look into this dog you are seeing. I don't like the idea of a stray animal being on the property. It could be sick," Bruce told him. "I don't want to risk you getting hurt."

Dick watched him pause at the head of the stairs. Bruce looked back at him.

"Understood?"

Dick nodded vigorously.

"Good! I'll hold you to that." And then he was gone.

Dick ran to the top of the stairs, but was only in time to see the door shut behind Bruce as the man hurried to his car and his meeting.

Dick walked back into his room and glanced at his window.

How did Bruce know his window had been open again? Had he been in the garden last night and seen him? Had Bruce been looking for the wolf last night?

Dick finished dressing and made his way down to the kitchen. He had another mystery to ponder.

Bruce came home early that night, but the rain persisted on and off throughout the day; not ending until after dark. After Bruce had tucked Dick in bed for the night, with an unsubtle reminder to keep his window closed, he left for his study.

Dick slithered out of bed and padded to the door. He was thankful that the doors were silent; that there was no telltale squeak to give him away when he opened it. He peeked into the hall in time to see Bruce's shadow on the wall as he moved down the stairs. Dick closed the door behind him and followed. He hadn't memorized where the squeaky steps were yet, so the boy avoided them altogether by using the bannister again.

He flipped to the floor, this time without his socks to hinder his landing. Barefoot, he slipped along silently. He looked around the corner just as Bruce disappeared into his study; the door closing with a tiny 'snick'. Dick darted forward; stopping beside it and pressed his ear to the panel.

There was a sound . . . a kind of rumble. It was almost too soft to hear, but Dick was listening hard. And then . . . there was nothing. Silence.

Biting his lip, Dick gathered his courage and knocked.

He wasn't completely surprised this time when no one answered. Without waiting any longer, Dick carefully turned the knob and opened the door a crack.

He couldn't see anyone. He pushed the door open a little further and stuck his head in. The room was empty!

Again?!

Frowning, Dick entered; closing the door behind him. He ran to the French door to the patio. It also was still locked. He turned and surveyed the room again. There really wasn't any place for a grown man to hide in here which then begged the question as to why Bruce might think that he would need to.

Dick looked at the desk. It was the heaviest structure in the room; the only thing actually capable of hiding something or someone. The public side of the desk was solid. Someone standing or sitting there wouldn't be able to see beneath the desk to the space designated for the occupant's legs.

Dick walked around it; pulling the leather chair back enough that he could see into the leg space beneath it. It was roomy, but not really enough for a man of Bruce's size to fit comfortably.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Certain he would be in trouble should he be found snooping in Bruce's study, Dick scrambled under the desk; pulling the chair back into place. What if Bruce was coming back from wherever he had gone? If he sat down at the desk, he would discover Dick there!

Dick held his breath as he heard the door to the hallway open and shut. There was the rattle of porcelain against silver; a sound that Dick had come to recognize very well since he had begun living here. The sound of a tea service.

Alfred.

The footsteps didn't halt at the desk, however. The butler didn't set the platter down. He heard the tiniest of clicks and then that rumble again; slightly louder since there wasn't a heavy door muffling the sound. And then . . .

Silence.

Again!

Was Alfred still there? Did he realize that Dick was hiding beneath the desk? Was the butler waiting until the boy showed himself? After several minutes, he couldn't take it anymore. His hands shaking, Dick pushed the chair back and climbed out from under the desk; prepared for startled exclamations and angry demands; ready for rough hands to grab him and drag him out. Dick was terrified; certain that he was about to be tossed out of the manor any second. That he would be returned to that awful place by day's end.

Dick stood up on wobbly legs, gathering his courage. He turned around; an apology on his lips, only to be met with . . . an empty room?

Empty?

Dick ran to the door and looked into the hallway; forgetting whatever potential trouble he could be in if he were caught there, but there was no one there either. He stepped out; confused.

Where did they both go?

Dick burst through the door to the kitchen, but it, too, was empty. There was a teapot on the stove. Dick walked over to it. Although he couldn't quite reach it, just holding his hand up, he could feel the heat still emanating from it.

"Alfred?"

He didn't know why he called out to the man. The house had the same feeling as it had the night before. Everyone was gone from it except him. Everyone had walked into the study and just . . . disappeared. Everyone, except for Dick.

Disturbed and feeling a little scared, Dick made his way back to his room. He didn't immediately climb back into bed, however. Instead, he moved to the window. Had the creature moved on? He looked at the clock. Nine p.m. was a little bit early for the wolf to make an appearance. Just before he turned away, however, movement caught his eye. A shadow emerged from the darkness beyond the maze. His breath caught. There!

The wolf!

The beast paused and turned its head in the direction of the house. Although Dick didn't open the window this time, he still waved at the creature. Its ears perked and its head tilted. It had seen him! It hesitated a minute as it contemplated the boy in the window before turning toward the woods. And then it was gone.

A smile edged Dick's lips. He no longer felt so alone. Why the wolf's presence comforted him, he didn't know, but it did.

Dick climbed back up into his bed; pulling the covers up to his chin. As he lay in bed, he ruminated on the mysterious disappearances of his guardian and the butler. Rolling over onto his side, he was sure he wouldn't be getting any sleep on this strange night.

Their voices woke him.

Dick blinked and glanced blearily at the clock beside his bed. Three-thirty in the morning? Abruptly, the memories of the previous evening slammed into him.

They came back!

Dick practically fell out of bed and scrambled to the door. He pressed his ear to the wood to better hear what the muffled voices were saying. The solid oak prevented him from actually making out the words, so he eased the door open, just a crack, and peered out.

Bruce's arm was flung around Alfred's shoulders as the butler helped the man up the hall to the master bedroom. Bruce was shirtless, and his broad chest and one shoulder were bandaged up. Dick could see, even from this distance, the angry, red scratches on his arms and his back as the two passed by his room.

"What do you expect, sir; running around all night getting into fights with Catwoman?" Alfred was scolding the younger man.

Bruce, however, was almost jovial despite his obvious pain. "Ah, yes, but what a little wildcat she is, Alfred!"

The butler sniffed haughtily and reminded him. "Just remember, Master Bruce; cats enjoy playing with their food before they devour it."

Bruce chuckled as the two men disappeared behind the door to his bedroom.

Dick returned to his bed; thinking hard about all that he had just heard. What was a Catwoman, and why would Bruce be fighting with her? Dogs liked to fight with cats, he knew. The wolf abruptly sprang to his mind. A wolf was a dog . . .

Catwoman. Did that mean there could be a dogman out there? Or . . . or maybe a wolfman? Dick's eyes widened in shock.

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. Well, not perfect sense . . . Dick still didn't know how Bruce and Alfred kept disappearing and reappearing out of the study, but it did explain how Bruce knew he had opened the window on the nights when Dick had spotted the wolf.

Bruce was the wolf! Or rather, Bruce was a werewolf!

Dick bit his lip; worried. Didn't werewolves eat people? Would Bruce eat him if he learned that Dick discovered his secret? Dick frowned as he considered this. Bruce had had weeks to eat him and yet he hadn't. Maybe Alfred didn't allow him to werewolf inside the house? But then Dick remembered the afternoons they had spent down by the lake.

Bruce had had more than enough time to have eaten Dick if he had really wanted to, but all they had done was skip rocks together. Bruce had even allowed Dick to hug him without biting him. In fact, Bruce had actually hugged him back!

Did that mean that maybe Bruce was a nice werewolf? All the werewolves Dick remembered in his father's stories had been mean.

Maybe Bruce only ate cats?

The sky was beginning to lighten when Dick finally fell back into an uneasy sleep, and soon the boy began to dream.

Dick and Bruce were down by the lake.

They were skipping rocks and having a good time. Dick had just skipped his rock several times and turned around to celebrate with Bruce when he came face to face with the wolf from outside of his window.

The huge black wolf was looking at him with Bruce's blue eyes and wagging its tail. Dick smiled; petting the beast. Afterwards, the two of them sat down together beside the water and howled at the moon.

At breakfast the next morning, Bruce sat down next to him. No bandages could be seen under his clothes, but Dick could see a healing scratch on his cheek still, and one again on his hand.

"Good morning, chum! How'd you sleep?" Bruce smiled at him.

"Okay," Dick told him. "I dreamed a lot, though."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Really? What did you dream about?"

Dick shrugged his shoulders. "I can't remember," he lied.

Bruce nodded. "Sometimes that is better," he murmured sagely.

"Can we go look for animal tracks today," Dick asked. He was curious to see if Bruce would let him in on his secret or not.

Bruce glanced at the window. Rain was still falling.

"I don't know, Dick," he said regretfully. "The rain isn't supposed to stop for a couple of days yet, although the forecast said that the temperatures are going to drop tomorrow and we can expect snow."

"Snow?" Dick perked up. He had never seen snow except in pictures. The circus was always ensconced in the Florida for the winter by the time the snow came to the north.

"Do you like snow," Bruce asked the boy. He had obviously noticed Dick's sudden interest.

"I don't know," Dick admitted. "I've never seen it before in real life."

Bruce grinned. "No? Well then, maybe if we're lucky, we'll get enough to make a snowman. I hear they can be fun."

Dick's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Have you made a snowman before?"

A faint blush rose up on Bruce's face. "Ah, no, although Alfred tried to talk me into it once. I wasn't interested at the time, but I wouldn't mind giving it a go with you. If you want to, that is."

Dick practically bounced in his chair. "Yes, please!"

Bruce chuckled at his enthusiasm. "All right, then. If the weather cooperates, then you and I will learn to make snowmen together."

As Dick was getting up from the table, Bruce caught him by his shoulder.

"By the way, Dick," he said, "did you happen to see the wolf last night?"

Dick nodded slowly.

Bruce smiled. "Well, thank you for remembering to not open your window. I know how much you must have wanted to."

It was true, Dick thought, marveling at the fact. How else could his guardian have possibly known whether or not Dick had opened his window unless he had been the wolf?

"You're welcome," Dick said, a little shyly.

Maybe if Bruce realized that he could trust Dick to keep his secret, he would tell him about it. Dick smiled at the thought.

His own werewolf guardian! How cool was that?

REACTIONS?

All I know is that if I were an 8 year old boy and in Dick's place, I would be thinking Bruce was a werewolf, too!