Wooo! Next chapter! i know it's still shorter than what you guys are used to, but Rome wasn't built in a day, people!
Bruce watched the boy. Wether he knew he was observing him or not, he didn't know. Bruce was devoting nearly every waking moment to nailing Zucco- but he wasn't so blind as to see that Dick would need attention, as well.
He told the boy that whatever things he needed to help him get through to distract him from the greif that was raging through him- he could get. Toys, books, video games, whatever he needed for a distraction from the pure horror of it, he couod have.
Because Bruce remembered his lego set. When his parents had been killed, he'd spent hours with it, simply building lego houses for the little lego people and having them talk and play with one another.
He'd been nine at the time- too old to play pretend. But for the first week after his parents had been killed, he'd allowed himself to slip into that world of make-believe. Every morning he awoke and would do his daily routine, eat breakfast, get dressed, comb his hair, and for a few minutes every day, he'd think... Simply think, about his parents.
And when the grief got to be too much, he'd pull out the legos and delve into a world where no one's parents died and no one had to be afraid of being alone. That had been his first week of grief.
After the first week, though, he'd be able to think about his parents for an hour or so without having to turn to his legos. And with the extended time to think about them, he tried to reason put why they were killed, why no one had saved them... And that was when he'd decided to be a hero.
Still, it was worrisome to see a boy so... listless. That first week, Dick never smiled. More often than not, Bruce found him simply wandering the halls. He realized it around the second day- the boy needed his sister.
So he redoubled his efforts for the papers to go through, and was ordered to go to Gotham's home for girls to pick her up.
She looked tired- that was the first thing he noticed about her. She should've been, of course, after what she'd been through. She climbed into the back seat of the car, looking up at him nervously.
"Are you Bruce?" she asked quietly, clutching her backpack, which was filled with all her things, close to her.
Bruce nodded. "I am. Dick is at home, waiting for you."
She smiled, her dull eyes brightening slightly. As they drove up the long drive of the Manor, she didn't smile. She seemed incredibly, totally oblivious to the well-keot grounds and flowers. She was clearly in her own little world.
Bruce had picked Scarlet up withiutnDick present for a reason- he wanted the, to have privacy when they were reunited, time to hug and say what they'd needed to say with the press butting in.
Now, though, he wondered if it was the right decision, It seemed like every second they were apart the two grew more nymb, more distant...
He pulled the car to a stop. Dick stood outside anxiously with Alfred, waiting...
"Dickie!"
"Scarlet!"
She threw herself at him, then, and they hugged, Dick tucked her head under his chin, and more a moment they both just clung to one another, eyes prickling with unshed tears...
But the five-year old couldn't stay still for long, and soon she squrimed out of his arms to look around. Suddenly she was noticing the huge manor, as well as the soectacular view of everything...
"Wow... we live here?" she asked, looking at Dick, eyes wide.
And for the first time in a week, Bruce saw the boy crack a small smile. "Yeah. We do."
"Cool..." and then she was dragging her brother by the hand towards a large maple, nibly swinging into the branches, laughing.
Alfred smiled, and Bruce did, as well, seeing them. It'd been an eternity, it seemed, since he'd heard children's laughter. And suddenly, the manor didn't seem so empty anymore.
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