And I'm back with the last 'set up' chapter (I think)! Bruce, Bruce, what on Earth are you up to?

I hope you enjoy and leave me a few words of your thoughts! Thank you for the all the reviews so far, you lovely people. c:

Dick couldn't help it. No matter where he went, no matter what he did, the smile refused to drop from his face. He had always wanted to spend the day with his best friend, and if he ignored the circumstances in which brought that day, it was almost like a dream come true.

Almost.

Still, he refused to frown. There were reasons to frown, as there always were, but he wasn't about to compromise the time he had to smile just so he could live as he usually did.

It had been a week since Wally had moved into the Wayne manor (without anyone but the ward's permission), and it had been a week filled with mornings just like the one that Dick had been living that day. Or, the beginning of the morning that Dick had been living that day.

"Hey, Bruce!" Dick called as he slid down the winding stair railing. Neither Alfred nor Bruce so much as blinked, Alfred placing the last breakfast tray of bacon on the table and Bruce gingerly sipping his coffee. Dick jumped into his seat, bouncing around in place just for good measure, as if the two (three) other men in the room couldn't recognise that Dick was happy. "What'cha drinkin'?" That was a dumb question. Coffee. Dick already knew that. But he felt as if something had to be said in the oncoming silence.

"Coffee," Bruce replied blandly.

"Boring," Dick claimed. "Drink something fancy. Like tea. Want some tea? Alfred, Bruce would love it if you made him some tea."

"No, Bruce would not," said Bruce.

"He talks in third person outside of costume, too?" Wally exclaimed, causing Dick to choke on the orange juice that he had started to indignantly sip.

"Are you alright, sir?" Alfred asked, eyeing the spilt juice with suspicion. Coughing lightly, Dick giggled and waved his palm.

"Yeah, I'm good," he assured, quickly reaching for the bacon and eating it straight from the tray without bothering to take it to his plate first. "Anything special going on at big, bad ol' Wayne Enterprises?"

"No."

"Really? Then that means you should stay home! Kick back, relax, watch Cartoon Network, yell at Fox News, book a vacation to Romania, all that fun stuff," insisted the acrobat.

"No."

"Maybe they have vampires in Romania. That'll be fun. And there's probably some sort of kidsy Flash shrine airing on CNN, you sure you wanna miss that?"

"No."

"Great, lets go watch!"

"Dick."

"Yeah, I'm a dick, tell me something I don't know," Dick quipped instantly.

"The fact that there's no Flash shrine on CNN?" Wally suggested from his position at the other end of the table. He had been boredly tracing his finger through the air, over curling designs in the wood. "I should know. I checked all the time when I was younger."

"Details," whispered Dick.

"Only details," snorted Wally.

Bruce eyed him with scrutiny, not saying anything for a moment, and Dick was tempted to shift under the man's overbearing gaze. Even Wally's face twisted into something uncomfortable, despite the fact that the man couldn't see him.

Then, he said something that neither Wally nor Dick had ever expected him to say.

"Are you okay?"

Dick's eyes widened as his surprise caused him to slump back into his seat. Even Alfred faltered for a moment as he poured Bruce a new cup of coffee. The acrobat cleared his throat, afraid that he'd croak. "Uh, yeah," he responded, disappointed that his voice didn't even attempt to hide his bewilderment. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Why would you be?" Bruce pressed.

Dick took a moment to digest that sentence before his hand curled into a fist. "What?" he asked, a tinge of hostility leaking into his tone. Not even Dick thought that he'd respond with so much emotion, so much defensive emotion, but he was and he hated how it was probably proving Bruce's point right, whatever that point was. "Am I not allowed to be happy in this manor of death and despair?"

"Excuse my intrusion," Alfred's smooth, accented words drifted over from where he was standing, "but I do believe that Master Bruce is simply curious as to what has made you so happy."

"Maybe I'm just a happy person," Dick snapped. Why was he acting that way? Not even he knew. He had been feeling as if he could fly not minutes before. "Unlike you." No, he needed to stop right there. "You, who doesn't seem like he's even capable of any emotion but revenge and hate." He was going to go too far. He knew that. So why didn't he want to stop?

Bruce, for once, looked taken aback.

Dick abruptly shoved back his chair. "Just because you can't get over yourself and see what's out there doesn't mean that I have to be the same way. I'm not like you. I know how to forgive and move on." Did he? Did he really? Did he forgive Anthony Zucco, the man who had murdered his parents? Did he forgive himself for not warning them, for letting them die?

Had he moved on at all?

He wasn't sad any longer over Wally's death, but that was only because Wally was standing right beside him. Wally wasn't gone.

Bruce didn't say a word in protest when Dick swiveled around and stormed from the room, his footsteps falling heavily in the large echo of the manor. He was hit with the direct sunlight coming from the high windows in the main hall, and he blinked rapidly to adjust to its bright glare. Dick paused, angrily gripping the railing of the winding staircase and hanging his head, sucking in a deep breath.

His heart hurt.

When Wally joined him, it was as if he could feel his presence. Though no sound of footsteps accompanied the redhead, there was an air of watchfulness and a silence that Dick didn't think had followed him before.

"I never argued with my parents," Dick whispered.

It didn't seem that Wally knew how to respond to that. "You were nine," he said instead. "Nine year olds don't usually argue with their parents. Especially not about things like this."

Dick shook his head, but he offered no words to go with his physical protests. Instead, he started up the stairs, his feet dragging just a bit more than before, his eyes trained on the wood. "I miss them," he breathed to his friend. "Want to know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "They asked me if I was okay when I was sad. Not when I was happy."

Wally was about to open his mouth, though he really didn't know what he was going to say, when a new thought happened to occur to Dick. The acrobat quickly began jumping two steps at a time, racing for his room and throwing the door open. He grabbed his sunglasses and hoodie, pausing only for a split second to stare at them. "You know, I always tried to replace my parents. Put Bruce there instead. It was easier, even if it was wrong. Even if I knew he never could." Dick shoved the glasses onto his face and yanked his arms through the hoodie. "But Bruce can't be my father. He can't even be a father. He can't give happiness when he has no happiness to give. If I want that, I have to get it for myself."

Wally followed as Dick threw open the window and dug a rope out from under his bed. The redhead didn't question the existence of the rope, either, as the living boy tied it to a conveniently placed hook in the ceiling and tossed it outside. He was on the ground, through the garage, and racing down the driveway on his R-Cycle in minutes. Seconds later and he was gone, the redhead in his company having been left behind at the front door.

Wally didn't have superspeed as a ghost. Superspeed was something that had happened to his physical body, and he was no longer in his physical body. His ghost was, essentially, his soul. Just like how when diseased people became ghosts and they no longer suffered from their disease, Wally no longer had his powers. He supposed that Dick forgot to ask, though.

That was the thing. Dick was probably already in the city by then, off to do God knew what. Get to Mount Justice? Probably. Probably to hang out with whatever living friends of his that he could find so that he could forget the drama that had happened at home. Because he could do that. He could sneak into a club if he wanted. He could do some damage, do some good, do anything that he wanted. Whatever he did, it made an effect on the outside world. People would notice. People would remember.

Wally couldn't do any of that. He had no effect. He had no purpose.

He couldn't do anything that made him happy.

He supposed that Dick forgot to ask about that, too.

When Dick walked into the mountain, the training arena was already set up with Dinah and Superboy dancing on the stage. Not literally, because Dick thought that he would have a heart attack if he ever saw Superboy actually dance, but it looked like Dinah might as well have been doing just that. She probably felt like she was training a Kindergartener and, despite the living weapon spiel, she pretty much was.

"I said to channel your anger, not to increase it," the woman instructed as she dodged another uncoordinated charge from her roaring opponent. "And you're going to waste a lot of energy yelling like that."

"You're just a regular human," Superboy spat. "I can still beat you!"

"Then why haven't you?" Dinah challenged as Dick finally stepped into the light, turning to lean against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The heroine sidestepped Superboy again as she glanced at the youngest of the Bat family. "Hello, Robin," she greeted with a smile before turning her attention back to the fight, not that Dick doubted her attention had ever left. She balanced her weight into a light fighting stance, then grabbed Superboy's arm as he barrelled past and used his weight displacement to her advantage as she spun around and sent him crashing onto his chest. She stepped off the platform as the match shut down, only to pause and stare at Dick.

Dick was sick of getting stared at.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Dick was also sick of being asked that. Superboy opened his mouth to say something, but only grunted when he saw Dick and stormed away in favour of the couch.

Dick's smirk dropped. "Not entirely," he admitted. Dinah's eyebrows shot up and she changed her path in order to stand in front of him. She turned and leaned up against the wall beside the acrobat.

"And why is that?" asked the woman.

Dick sighed and ran his fingers through his bangs. "Just Batman," he said, before grimacing at the fact that he was even talking about his personal life at all. He decided to turn it down a notch when he continued. "He's been getting into my business more than usual."

Despite him not having said much, Dinah looked like she understood. Dick had to say that that quality of hers was probably why he admired her so much. "He is, is he? I told that man to leave you be," she scowled. Or, scowled as much as someone like Dinah could.

"Really?" Dick frowned. "What did you guys talk about?"

Dinah hesitated. It was clear that she wasn't willing to get in between the two of them, but it wasn't like she was spreading false information. If anything, she was helping each of them learn both sides of their stories. She leaned into Dick, glancing around the room, and Dick tallied that as another reason why he admired her. She kept privacy private. "Is there a reason for this sudden change of...heart?" she asked. "I mean, from overcoming your grief so quickly? I don't care what it is so long as it makes you healthy and happy, but Batman is...well," she sighed. "Batman is really something."

What should Dick actually tell her? How much could he reveal about Wally?

Where was Wally?

With a jolt, Dick pushed off of the wall and examined the room, Dinah thankfully remaining silent. No matter how hard Dick thought, though, he didn't think that he had seen Wally follow him to the mountain. "Sorry," he apologised. "I have to go."

"Go where?" Dinah asked immediately. "You just got here, and we have training."

"A friend," Dick said, anxiety gnawing at his gut. "I forgot to call a friend. I'll be back later. Is it okay if I miss part of training today?" he pleaded.

Dinah looked as if she were thinking about it but, if Dick were honest, she wasn't very convincing. She had already made up her mind the moment that Dick had asked to leave. "Yes," she agreed. "But at least tell Batman where you're going." Dick nodded, hardly bothering to even hear her words as he rushed out of the room.

Alone in the training arena, Dinah ran a hand down her face and sighed. "And at least make up a better excuse next time," she muttered.

Racing down the back hallway that led to the main garage doors of the cave, Dick cursed himself. He had gotten on his motorcycle and gone to the nearest zeta tube in Gotham that hadn't been the one in the Batcave, considering that Bruce would have been in the Batcave too if he wasn't headed for Wayne Enterprises, without even paying attention to Wally. Wally had proved the other day that ghosts could go through zeta tubes, but Dick didn't think that they could necessarily ride motorcycles.

A rush of air went past his ear once, then again a second later. "Robin!" Barry said, practically materialising in front of Dick. "Hi!"

"Uh, hi," Dick greeted, distracted. "Sorry, I'm kind of in a rush," he said.

"Oh!" Barry exclaimed apologetically. "Want me to give you a lift? Where are you off to?"

"No, it's okay," reassured the acrobat, internally aching to leave. Barry, though usually as oblivious to social cues as the next speedster, actually seemed to take the hint.

"Aw, okay," he said. "But if you ever need me, you can call, alright? Oh, and before you leave," he continued just as Dick began bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Batman was looking for you."

Dick nodded but, once more, hardly listened, already shooting off again for the mountain's exit. Thankfully, by the time Barry had disappeared, he really didn't have to go far as a blob of red hair floated casually through the door that separated the hall from the garage. "Dick!" Wally exclaimed, and Dick thought that he was about to start getting tired of speedster enthusiasm. "Did you know that I can't go through any natural raw materials? I just tried going through the stone of the mountain and hit my head."

"Wally," Dick breathed. He didn't say anything more, only grinned as Wally rambled about how unfair it was that he couldn't go through the stone of the mountain even when he was transparent. In fact, Wally literally didn't stop to breathe, probably because he didn't need to, and if Wally had been alive then Dick would have remembered that speedsters tended to do that in order to drown out their own thoughts. But Wally wasn't alive. Therefore, Dick wasn't really thinking about that as they walked away.

Bruce was, though. Well, about Wally in general, really.

Bruce knew that Dick had gone to the mountain. Where else would he have gone on a Saturday morning? The only other friend that Dick had was Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon's daughter, but he wouldn't have taken the R-Cycle if he had been headed there. Plus, the girl hadn't told Dick where she lived, and as much as Bruce hadn't exactly taught Dick about how to pick up ladies, Bruce figured that the boy was competent enough with people to know that conveniently knowing their address wasn't a good place to start.

Not to mention that Black Canary had scheduled a group training session that day. That was where he had been headed until he had run into Flash, who had zoomed past him once before turning around and running straight back. "Batman!" the speedster had exclaimed. "Do we have any missions for the kiddies today? Can I brief them?"

"No," Bruce had said lowly, making sure to adjust his voice. Sometimes, the low growl really was annoying. If he were honest, it was probably why he didn't speak as much as he did outside of costume. Low growls tended to hurt quite a bit after a while.

"Aw man," Flash had groaned. "What about later? Can I brief them later?"

"No," repeated Bruce.

"I really think they should go on an actual fighting mission for once, though," Flash had continued. "I mean, they always screw up covert, anyway."

That wasn't true, and Bruce had wanted to say that, but as much as he liked the truth, he valued his teammate's mental health more. How could he carry out a mission with a wounded soldier? Bruce didn't care for how emotionally vulnerable the Allen and West families were, but it wasn't his place to train them. He'd just have to deal with it.

Because since Wally had gone, covert missions had actually gone according to schedule. But, in Flash's mind, in Barry's mind, Wally was simply 'absent', and the team was how it had always been.

The team wasn't emotionally damaged. The team wasn't distant. The team wasn't so unmotivated that they responded to orders without banter, because it wasn't as if an entire key part of their conversation was missing. That was Barry's mindset.

Barry refused to move on.

In a weird, twisted sort of way, the man that was antithesis to everything Batman was reminded Bruce of himself. That caused Dick's previous words to come back to mind, and he fought a grimace.

"No," he had said again, moving to go around the man.

"Jeez, Bats, you're no fun. You've got to let them have the spotlight at some point. What are you doing here, anyway? Briefing isn't for a few hours," Flash had resigned, hands on his waist as he spaced his feet apart, as if he could make himself into a wall large enough to prevent the Batman from pushing past.

Bruce had decided to be honest, because if Flash could do anything, it was to physically find someone in a short amount of time. "Robin," he said monotonously, glancing pointedly over the man's shoulder to show that he desired to continue his search for said boy.

Flash had looked like he wanted to prod for more information, but who he was talking to must have finally occurred to him, because he went back to beaming bright and clear. "I'll let him know if I see him, then," he said, before waving and running off too fast for his 'See ya!' to be heard until he was already gone.

Bruce hadn't even tried saying that he didn't necessarily want Dick to know that he was looking for him. Even if he could catch up with the speedster, though, it only took a few seconds for Bruce to know that Flash had already done the deed.

That was because he actually heard the man tell Dick that he was being searched for. Surprised, Bruce instinctively glued himself to the wall behind the corner of the hall where the voices of Flash and Dick were drifting from. He didn't hear Flash for long, though, and Dick didn't talk much until a gust of wind from Flash's running steps ruffled Bruce's cape.

He was about to reveal himself, though he wasn't particularly great with words when it got down to serious conversations between him and his partner, when something made him stop.

That something happened to be the one name that Bruce had unintentionally blamed as the source of his problems.

"Wally," Dick said quietly from behind the corner, and Bruce watched as the boy's shadow against the opposite wall got smaller and smaller as his footsteps drew further and further away.

It was likely that Dick happened to think of Wally after seeing Flash, but after his strange change of moods and everything that had happened...

Well, Bruce didn't believe in coincidences.

There could have been only one explanation. But he thought that he had better check back with Black Canary later, if only to tell her that Dick wouldn't be going to training for a while.