On Wings of Steel 2: The Birth of Robin
Chapter 14 – Shooting Star

Our newly formed Dynamic Duo just saved Commissioner Gordon from a certain death and put the Joker behind bars. For the final time, let's see how they are getting on and if they get their long-deserved fishing trip!

After he finished his milk and cookies, Dick went upstairs to take a shower. He said he was feeling sweaty after the fight with the Joker and his henchmen, but Bruce suspected that wasn't the full extent of it. A lot had happened today, and he suspected Dick needed some time by himself to decompress.

Bruce wandered over to his desk in the study, sitting down in the chair. He stared at the top drawer on the right, biting at his bottom lip in thought. Pulling the drawer open, Bruce withdrew a small box. He rested his elbows on the desk's surface and opened the box, inspecting the object within.

Alfred entered the study a few moments later, initially heading to the coffee table to pick up the tray. When he noticed what Bruce was looking at, however, the butler straightened up and turned towards the desk instead.

Glancing up, Bruce met Alfred's eyes before directing them back down to the object in his hands. Rubbing his hand over his mouth, Bruce asked, "Do you think it's time to pass it on?"

Alfred let out a soft breath. "I can't answer that for you, sir."

Silence fell in the room, one of comfortable companionship that had been well-worn over the years. "Do you think they'd like Dick?"

Alfred smiled, approaching the desk. He leaned against the corner of it, glancing back over his shoulder at Bruce. "Master Dick asked me the same question not so very long ago – if I thought his parents would like you."

Bruce met Alfred's eyes. "He did? And what did you tell him?"

"The same thing I'm going to tell you," Alfred answered. "I think your parents would have loved the person that's been able to fulfill a very vital role in your life. Especially when they couldn't be here for you." He paused for a moment before he added, "I know how much Master Dick means to you."

"I love him, Alfred," Bruce said, his voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't love him anymore if he was my own flesh and blood."

Bruce's earlier question hung in the air between them, and Alfred said, "That should be all the answer you need."

One of Bruce and Dick's favorite things to do on Saturday evenings was to watch the Million Dollar Movie on television. That night's feature was scheduled to be a musical comedy with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, which Bruce had already seen, but seemed fairly excited to watch again.

Alfred made them popcorn and brought it into the living room on a tray with two tall glasses of milk. Bruce and Dick had changed into their pajamas and cuddled up under a blanket on the couch together. Aunt Harriet was seated on one of the armchairs in her pink fuzzy bathrobe and matching slippers, with curlers in her hair. She would be retiring to bed as soon as the news was over, because she could never stay awake long enough to watch the movie.

The night had grown quite chilly, so Alfred had started a fire. He went to the fireplace and used the poker to jab at the logs, bringing the dwindling fire roaring back to life.

Dick pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, curling into a ball. He sighed contentedly as he leaned into Bruce's side. Bruce then lifted his arm, laying it across the back of the sofa. Dick rested his head against it and wondered if he would be able to watch the whole movie either. He was exhausted from the day's events, and his eyelids already felt heavy.

But then something happened that suddenly made him feel wide awake.

On the television, the reporter said, "In our final story this evening, reports have been coming in all day that the Caped Crusader has a new partner. This photo, captured by a passerby at Police Headquarters this afternoon, shows Batman with what appears to be his junior sidekick. Police Chief O'Hara was quoted as saying that his name is Robin, and he played an instrumental role in saving Commissioner Gordon's life."

A picture flashed across the screen of Batman, Robin, and Chief O'Hara standing on the steps of Police Headquarters that afternoon. Dick recognized it as being just after the commissioner had been taken away in an ambulance.

Dick sat bolt upright in his seat, his wide eyes going from Aunt Harriet, to Alfed, to Bruce, then back to Aunt Harriet again. His heart hammered in his chest, and he felt too hot now, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Bruce's hand squeezed his shoulder as if warning him to control himself.

"Mercy alive!" Aunt Harriet cried, her hands going up to her cheeks. "Dick, doesn't that look just like the costume you and your parents used to wear for your trapeze routines? And they said his name is Robin! What are the chances? My, the resemblance is uncanny!" She glanced over at them, her eyes as round as quarters.

His breath heavy, Dick grabbed the blanket in his fists, certain that Aunt Harriet knew. She knew their secret and it was all over for them. This was exactly what Bruce said could never happen. What were they going to do?

"Do you really think so, Aunt Harriet?" Bruce asked in his customary calm tone a moment later. "The costume rather invokes the imagery of Robin Hood the way he's depicted in English folklore. And the name Robin seems to support that. Merely a coincidence."

Aunt Harriet blinked at them, then turned back to the television. Thankfully, the picture of Batman and Robin was now gone, the newscaster back on the screen to close out the program and tell them to stay tuned for the Million Dollar Movie.

"Oh," she said quietly. "I suppose so. But he looked awfully young and they called him Batman's 'junior' sidekick! Do you think this crime fighting business is safe for him?"

"Harrowing as it may be," Bruce said, "I'm sure Batman has taken this into consideration and is doing everything in his power to keep his new partner safe. It is Batman's job to keep the citizens of this fine city safe, after all, so that includes his partner, whoever he may be under that mask."

Aunt Harriet stared at the television screen for a while longer while the newscast faded out, and the intro for the Million Dollar Movie came on. The theme song started playing, and it normally would have made Dick's stomach tingle with excitement, because it was the one of the things that he and Bruce enjoyed together. But now, Dick felt like jumping out of his skin.

"Heavens to Betsy!" Aunt Harriet exclaimed. "I sure hope you're right, Bruce! I can't help but think about that boy's parents and what they must be going through, knowing he's out on the streets like that! He's going to be dealing with dastardly criminals and that's hardly the sort of thing boys his age should be doing!"

"Didn't the news program say that he played an instrumental part in saving the life of the police commissioner?" Alfred asked. He placed the fireplace poker in the correct slot in the stand next to the hearth, folding his hands in front of him. "It seems to me that his presence in Gotham City may be a good thing."

"Perhaps so, Alfred," Aunt Harriet conceded. "I just hope he'll be careful!"

"I doubt Batman would allow it if he wasn't," Dick chimed in. "I'm sure he's looking out for his new partner."

Aunt Harriet smiled at this. "I'm sure you're right. It's just children these days – they grow up so fast!" She turned around from the television again, giving Dick a stern look. "I hope you'll never think of doing such things, young man!"

Dick swallowed hard, unable to meet her eyes. "No, ma'am." He bit his lower lip, trying his best not to appear uncomfortable under his aunt's gaze.

"Well, I'm off to bed," Aunt Harriet said. "Don't you stay up too late either!"

"I'll see to it he gets to bed as soon as the movie's over," Bruce promised. "You have my word."

Aunt Harriet got up from the armchair. "Goodnight, boys."

Alfred bowed his head at her. "Madam."

"Sleep well," Bruce said.

"Goodnight, Aunt Harriet," Dick said.

The living room seemed to freeze as soon as she began climbing the stairs to the second floor. No one moved and no one said anything. Everything was perfectly still, save for the dancing and crackling flames in the fireplace.

Dick sank down into the couch, leaning his head back against Bruce's arm in relief. It wasn't until he heard Aunt Harriet's bedroom door close that he spoke. "Gosh, Bruce," Dick said in a dead whisper. "I thought for sure we were found out."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't prepared for that," Bruce replied.

Dick looked at his guardian in awe; he always seemed to think of everything. "You knew that was going to happen."

"I was hoping it wouldn't come out quite so soon," Bruce said around a sigh, "but yes. People talk, especially when it involves Batman. The picture was a bit more than even I was expecting right now, but it would come to light eventually."

The staircase was just visible from Dick's vantage point, and he watched it carefully. He almost expected Aunt Harriet to come flying downstairs when she figured it out, accusing Bruce of corrupting him and leading him into danger. Would she take Dick away from Bruce forever?

"Do you think she bought it?" Dick asked uncertainly.

"Oh, yes," Bruce reassured him. "She never would have let it go so easily otherwise."

Dick let out a heavy breath. A weird uncomfortable sensation settled into his chest. "I sort of feel guilty."

Bruce gave his shoulder another squeeze. "Now you know how I felt lying to you for as long as I did."

Glancing at Bruce and then at Alfred, Dick asked, "So you think it's okay? Lying to her?"

"Certain unpleasant things are necessary in the fight against evil," Alfred said.

"Yes," Bruce agreed. "It's not 'okay' per se, but…necessary. You remember what I told you about keeping this a secret? Not only would the truth be a threat to what we're doing, but it would also be a danger to those who hold that information. If anyone was aware of the knowledge Alfred holds, for example…" He trailed off.

"They could try to get that information out of him," Dick concluded. He stared up at Alfred and said, "It's a big responsibility."

"Indeed, sir," Alfred agreed, "but one that I carry proudly and wouldn't trade for the world."

"And we are lucky to have you," Bruce said. "I can say with absolute certainty that neither one of us would be here right now if not for you. In more ways than one."

"It's been my pleasure," Alfred said. "May I bring you two anything else?" When both Bruce and Dick shook their heads in response, he said, "Then I'll let you two watch the movie."

They both bid him goodnight and as Alfred began to climb the stairs, the room was encompassed in silence again. Dick's heartbeat had slowed from his earlier scare with Aunt Harriet, and he was feeling drowsy again. He decided that perhaps snacking on some popcorn would perk him back up. Dick leaned forward on the couch, reaching out for the bowl of popcorn, but then he stopped short. Just in front of the bowl was a small cream-colored velvet box. It looked like a jewelry box, like one that a ring might come in.

"What's this?" Dick asked, his hand hovering over it.

"Mm, open it."

Throwing a questioning glance back over at his shoulder at his guardian, Dick picked up the box from the tray. His mind was racing. Bruce had already gotten him a nice wristwatch as a welcome home present when he first came to Wayne Manor, so this wasn't completely out of the ordinary. He suspected it was perhaps a tie clip or a pair of cufflinks as a present for becoming Batman's partner.

When Dick opened the box, it revealed a gold ring inside with a black stone set into it. There was some sort of coat of arms on either side of the stone along with a golden letter 'W' emblazoned across the stone itself.

Dick looked at his guardian again. "Bruce…?" he began, but his voice died in his throat. He suspected he might know what it was, and that alone left him speechless.

"It's the Wayne family ring," Bruce answered Dick's unspoken question. He sat up straight, leaning in towards Dick. He pointed out the symbol on the sides of the band and explained, "That's the Wayne coat of arms, and…it's a tradition in my family to pass it down from eldest son to eldest son when they become a teenager."

Dick's breath caught in his throat. This wasn't at all the gift he had been expecting. It wasn't a run-of-the-mill present like a tie clip or cufflinks. This was important. Way too important for him to have, he decided. He shook his head and immediately pushed the ring box towards Bruce's hands. "I don't think I can accept this."

Bruce laid his hands over top of Dick's, pushing the box back towards his young ward. "I want you to have it."

A large lump had settled into Dick's throat and he tried to swallow it away. He stared down at the ring, wondering how many generations of Waynes this ring had been passed down through, only for it to end up with him. It didn't seem right. "I'm not a Wayne," Dick said. "I…It should go to a Wayne."

Comfortable silence fell between them for a few moments. Bruce rubbed his hands together before clasping them. "You asked me last night if I would ever make you leave-" He stopped abruptly as if he had meant to say more. A few moments later, he asked, "Was that only last night?" Bruce glanced up at the ceiling as if it might contain an answer to his question.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce began again, "You asked me if…we might ever have an argument or a disagreement that would push us to that breaking point. Where I would no longer want you in my life. This is part of my answer to you. Yes, you're a Grayson first and foremost. I would never want to change that, because your parents raised a wonderful son. But you're a Wayne too in every single way that counts. You've become my son, and that makes you a Wayne, whether you like it or not." A small smirk passed over Bruce's features before he added, "From eldest son to eldest son. That makes it yours. That means Wayne Manor will always be your home for as long as you want it to be. I will always be your father for as long as you want me to be."

Dick could only blink at the ring in stunned silence. He opened his mouth to speak, meaning to protest again, but no words came out. His eyes burned and his lower lip trembled. He shook his head again, squeezing his eyes shut against the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake him. A hiccup escaped him before he pressed the back of his hand over his mouth, fighting to contain any errant sounds. When he opened his eyes again, the ring swam in his vision in a sea of tears.

Dick tried again, but he still couldn't speak. He turned and reached his arms around Bruce's neck, hugging him tightly. The ring box was still in his hand, and he stared at it, the black stone and the golden metal glinting in the soft flickering from the fireplace. Squeezing the box tightly, Dick whispered, "Forever."

Bruce hugged him back and answered, "Always."

When Dick released his hold on Bruce, his eyes rested on the ring again as he ran his fingers over the velvet material of the box. Despite Bruce's reassurances, he still wasn't sure if this was right. "Bruce…" he whispered, not trusting his voice to stay steady. "This is quite possibly the most important gift anyone's ever given me." He met Bruce's eyes again and asked, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dick ran a finger over the stone for the first time. It was smooth with the exception of where the golden 'W' was pressed into it. He thumbed the coat of arms on one side, wondering exactly how many generations this ring had belonged to. He had been ready to ask, but then something else occurred to him.

"If it's passed down when you're thirteen," Dick said, "then your dad wasn't…" He stopped, not needing to speak the words.

"No," Bruce replied. "Alfred gave it to me. My dad had it set aside with instructions for Alfred in case…" He paused, staring down at his hands as he clasped them together. "I wasn't able to share that with my father, but I am able to share it with you." He rested a hand on Dick's back before he said, "Please. It's yours now."

Dick's bottom lip quivered, and he pressed a hand over his eyes. His shoulders shook under Bruce's soft touch. When he lowered his hand, he said, "If you really want me to…then I would honored to wear it." His voice broke on the last word, so he covered his mouth again.

"See if it fits."

Taking a shaky breath, Dick carefully pulled the ring from the box like he was handling a priceless treasure. And really, he was. Out of instinct, he tried it on his right ring finger first, and there it would remain, because it fit perfectly. He held his hand out flat and tilted it back and forth, letting it catch the flames from the fireplace.

"How long has it been in your family?" Dick asked solemnly.

"My three times great-grandfather, John had it commissioned," Bruce said, "when he found out he was going to be a father. He and his wife didn't think they were able to have children, but their son was eventually born. They were beyond thrilled, so they went all out."

Dick looked up at Bruce, a smirk playing about his lips. "His name was John Wayne?"

"Indeed," Bruce said, "and so was his son, and his son, and his son. My grandfather decided not to carry on that tradition, and my father was named Thomas. John Wayne hadn't yet become a household name, but…perhaps it was for the best."

"Any relation?"

"No," Bruce said. "John Wayne the actor was born Marion Morrison." A soft sound escaped Bruce's throat, like he was trying to stifle a chuckle. "He borrowed his surname from one of my ancestors, 'Mad' Anthony Wayne."

Dick's expression widened to a grin, and he relaxed back against Bruce again. He tried to direct his eyes to the television, because they had already missed so much of the movie. His attention, however, kept drifting down to the ring that now sat on his finger. He kept moving his hand around, never getting tired of watching the light catch the gold and the stone.

"Thank you, Bruce."

Bruce wrapped an arm around Dick's shoulders, squeezing tightly. He kissed the top of Dick's head and replied, "You're welcome." After a while, he asked, "Did you ever see this? It's called Top Hat."

"No." In fact, Dick wasn't sure if he'd see any of the movie at all, because he kept staring at his ring.

"You should try and watch a little bit of it. It's wonderful."

Dick forced his eyes away from his ring, fully taking in the images on the screen for the first time. Fred Astaire was dancing with Ginger Rogers, and he was singing, "Heaven. I'm in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak…"

I know the feeling, Dick thought.

"Let me know how it goes!" Dick's friend, James called from his seat on the bus as Dick climbed down the steps on Friday afternoon.

Dick didn't even stop to acknowledge the request. He broke into a run, scared to death that if he didn't get to Wayne Manor fast enough, Bruce might be gone on another crime fighting adventure. Oh please, oh please, oh please, Dick thought for about the millionth time that week as he sprinted along the street.

When he finally tore through Wayne Manor's front doors, a feeling of déjà vu overcame him as he saw his and Bruce's duffle bags sitting at the foot of the stairs. This was immediately replaced with a feeling of dread, because Dick was almost certain something would come up to ruin their weekend.

"Did you run all the way home?" Bruce asked as he emerged from the kitchen, a small basket in one hand.

I've been here before, Dick thought, the sense of déjà vu almost smothering to him now. He only hoped that it wouldn't turn out like it did last time.

"Of course!" Dick said, bouncing up and down on his heels. "I want to go so badly. We are, aren't we?"

"Absolutely," Bruce said around a smile, setting the basket down on the hall table. "I promise. Nothing is going to get in the way of this again." He tilted his head towards the stairs and added, "Go get changed. I'll pack the car, and we'll be off."

Dick sprinted up the stairs. Wherever Aunt Harriet was in the house, he was certain she'd be telling him that he wasn't a herd of elephants, but a young boy, so he should sound like it. Dick didn't slow down. He barreled into his room, threw his backpack down on the bed, and began changing out of his clothes.

Once he was in his favorite outdoor outfits – red sweatshirt, jeans, and hiking boots – he grabbed his bookbag from the bed and hurried back downstairs again. Their bags had indeed been removed as had the picnic basket. The front door stood open and Bruce was closing the trunk of the car at the end of the long sidewalk.

"Bye, Aunt Harriet! Bye, Alfred!" Dick yelled. He still didn't see them, but they knew Bruce and Dick were leaving, so Dick thought he might be excused for his haste. At least he was careful not to slam the door behind him, lest Aunt Harriet be as mad as a wet hen at him.

"Oh, those two!" Aunt Harriet exclaimed, making her way into the foyer from the kitchen with Alfred close behind her. She placed her hands on her hips and said, "Always off in such a hurry!"

She went to the front door and pulled it open, waving at the car as it pulled out of the driveway and turned right, heading away from Gotham City. Alfred had joined her, his hand also raised in a farewell.

"You know something, Alfred?" she asked.

"What's that, madam?"

"I'm glad they're finally going," Aunt Harriet replied. "Dick was so terribly upset when their plans fell through last time."

"As am I."

Silence fell for a long time, Aunt Harriet still not moving from her spot. She watched Bruce's car trail off down the road until it was nothing but a mere speck on the horizon.

"I'm so happy they found each other," Aunt Harriet spoke up again. "Sometimes Dick seems like his old self when he's with Bruce. Bruce means so very much to him."

"I assure you, the feeling is quite mutual."

"Bruce?" Dick asked when Wayne Manor was out of sight. "I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?"

"Well, I'm terrified of it happening, because I don't want anything to ruin this," Dick said, staring down at his hands in his lap. "But what if someone needs help while we're away?"

Bruce took a deep breath as he steered his car along the winding road. "Surely you've seen the Bat-signal in the sky. It's for when the police can't reach Batman by phone." After a moment, he added, "It's visible even in the mountains."

"Oh."

Dick had been in such a hurry to leave Wayne Manor, but then he felt horribly guilty for it, like they were shirking their responsibilities. It had never occurred to him that there would still be ways for the police to get in contact with Batman. Of course he had seen the Bat-signal in the sky, always wondering who the Caped Crusader was off to save.

"Don't worry, chum," Bruce said. Dick didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling. "I promise nothing is going to ruin our weekend."

Dick wanted to ask how Bruce could be so sure, but he didn't. Because the answer was that he couldn't be sure. Not really. There was always a chance for things to pop up one right after the other, but there hadn't been a single call from the police at all this week. Dick knew Bruce was enjoying this respite from the back-to-back battles with the Riddler and then the Joker. Perhaps Bruce just had faith that he and Dick would finally get a chance to spend some quality time together without having to worry about any of Gotham City's dastardly criminals.

Yes, Dick thought. This is our time now.

All was well.

The skies near Gotham City were not quite the same as they were in the mountains. At this altitude, the air was thinner and the skies were clearer, and it felt like they were so much closer to the heavens. Stars were visible here that they could never see in the city, even with the strongest telescopes on earth.

They had taken quite an extensive hike to one of Bruce's favorite campsites. They were in a clearing at the top of a ridge, with a small trail down the side of it to a mountain stream. They would trek down the trail bright and early in the morning and spend the day fishing and birdwatching. Dick's stomach did flipflops of excitement at the thought of it.

For now, they had just finished a late dinner of sausages roasted over the campfire. Exhausted from their hike and his full stomach, Dick zipped himself up in his cozy sleeping bag. He stared up at the enormous field of stars above him, turning the Wayne family ring around his finger again and again. He loved the feel of it, and he always liked to check that it was still there. Liked to remind himself what it meant.

I'm in heaven, he thought. He felt calm and free here like he hadn't felt in a while back in the city. Perhaps it was because he knew that the Riddler and the Joker were miles away, locked up in the Gotham State Penitentiary. They had no idea where he was now, so they couldn't find him even if they wanted to.

"What are you thinking?" Bruce asked. He was sitting cross-legged on his own sleeping bag, poking a stick at the fire between them.

Bruce didn't ask that a lot. He was always good about waiting for Dick to bring things up, because it took Dick a while sometimes. It had taken him a long time to be able to talk about his parents, and that just seemed like the norm now. Dick like to process things on his own before he could find a voice for them.

But this was their weekend, so perhaps Bruce thought it would be a good time to broach the subject. The air was clearer here, so maybe they could clear the air between them as well. Completely. That wasn't to say that things were difficult between them, because that couldn't be further from the truth. They seemed to get on like a house on fire now, but still, there were those pesky clouds hanging in the air.

There were a lot of them – those clouds – and Dick wasn't sure which one to grab first. So he just plunged forward with the most present one in his mind.

"The Riddler mainly," Dick said simply, staring up at the sky. "That something like that might happen again. I mean, I don't think about it constantly. It doesn't keep me awake at night anymore. There are no nightmares or anything, but…it's always there." Dick turned his head, glancing at Bruce. "You know?"

"Mm," Bruce hummed in response. "Perhaps that's a good thing. You remember what I told you about always remaining vigilant?"

Dick nodded.

Bruce took a deep breath before setting down his stick. He laid down on top of his sleeping back, not zipping himself up in it quite yet. He turned on his side and propped his head in his hand, staring at Dick.

"Listen," Bruce said. "If you ever decide you don't want to do this anymore, all you have to do is say the word. It's not set in stone by any means."

Dick frowned. "I can't imagine that. Not since you've been so accommodating to the idea. I never even thought this was a possibility."

"Still," Bruce said, "you are allowed to quit. I won't hold you to it if you come to the realization that this isn't for you. It's hard, and it isn't for everybody. I'll never pretend otherwise. If you choose you just want to be…a kid, you can be. No strings attached. I won't be upset or disappointed in you."

"I understand, but I haven't been a kid since my parents died," Dick answered solemnly, staring up at the sky again. He was still a kid in a lot of ways, he knew that, but that sense of innocence inside of him had been shattered forever. That was the part of him that'd grown up overnight when the trapeze had been sabotaged. Dick knew he didn't need to explain that to Bruce.

"Neither have I," Bruce agreed. He frowned down at his free hand that was resting against the fleece material of his sleeping bag. He found the edge of the zipper, running his fingernail along the teeth.

Dick pretended not to notice. Bruce didn't often get like this – antsy – but Dick decided that it was probably due to memories of his parents. Perhaps the subject would be better left until another time, but when Bruce spoke again, Dick realized that the conversation was far from over. In fact, Bruce's words left Dick feeling like he was plummeting down the side of the mountain itself.

"Do you blame me?"

Dick turned his head sharply, his mouth hanging open. He couldn't find any words, his brow morphing into a frown. Bruce had stopped playing with the zipper, the flames of the campfire reflecting against the tears that had sprung to life in his eyes. Only the crackling of the fire and the crickets made any sound.

Sitting up straight, Dick struggled to find his voice. It felt like it had fallen down the mountain along with the rest of him.

"I've wanted to ask you that ever since we met," Bruce said. "Ever since the day I sat down beside you on that bench outside of the orphanage…but I couldn't. Even after you found out about Batman…it no longer seemed right to dredge that up."

His words were tear-filled, and he was shakier than Dick had ever seen him. Realer than Dick had ever seen him. Dick realized that this was no longer a persona that Bruce put on, but this was actually Bruce. As he was without any walls around him, without any bravado, or pretense, or stoicism. This was Bruce.

Not only was Dick struggling to find his voice, but he was trying to comprehend this new unexplored territory he found himself in. Even as long as he had known Bruce, even as close as they had gotten, Dick hadn't been at all prepared for this. Dick always wondered if there was a part of Bruce that he kept hidden, that he would never allow the rest of the world to see. And now here it was, laid bare in front of him.

"N-No," Dick squeaked out, because his voice didn't want to cooperate. It had been shocked into submission, but Bruce's eyes were begging for an answer. He shook his head wildly, because he had never even considered such a thing.

"Because I wasn't there," Bruce admitted. He punched his sleeping bag with a fist, sitting up so he was on eye level with Dick. "I wasn't there…and I've always wondered if I could have done something if I had been."

"Bruce," Dick said, forcing his voice to take charge again. "No one knew what was going to happen. Not even me, and I knew something would, because I heard them talking. I never imagined…" Dick broke off, because he had absolutely no desire to bring that up. Besides, this wasn't about him right now. This was about Bruce, and Dick had to do what Bruce always did for him. "Even if you had been in that circus tent…it happened so fast. There's nothing you could have done. Even with your lightning quick reflexes."

Bruce stared off into the distance, towards the edge of the ridge that led down to the stream. A tear escaped his eye, sliding down his cheek and he swatted it away. He pressed his lips together firmly, squaring his shoulders. Dick recognized it as Bruce retreating back inside the wall he built around himself, and Dick didn't want him to.

Fumbling with the zipper on his sleeping bag, Dick opened it and scrambled to his feet. The loose gravel crunched underfoot as Dick walked around the fire and dropped down on the edge of Bruce's sleeping bag. Bruce was facing away from him, still looking out over the endless black that enveloped the mountain.

"When we were coming back from saving the commissioner," Bruce whispered, "you said, 'We saved Barbara's dad.' But I couldn't save your parents."

"That's not what I meant," Dick replied. He laid a hand over Bruce's arm, his thick woolen sweater scratchy underneath Dick's fingers. "I never thought such a thing, nor would I ever say it. I just meant…it's nice that we could help her, and…she doesn't have to know what it's like." He leaned forward and tightened his grip on Bruce's arm, trying to get his guardian to look at him. "I've never blamed you, Bruce. Never. It's not your fault."

Bruce finally turned to face him, his eyes wide and questioning, but the rest of his face was solemn. His bottom lip quivered a few times, but then it was gone.

"You know I wouldn't lie to you," Dick said. "Not about this."

That hard line melted from his lips and Bruce engulfed Dick in a warm hug. Bruce's sweater was almost stifling, itchy wool pressing into his cheek, but Dick didn't mind. He only embraced Bruce back.

"I know," Bruce said, resting his cheek on Dick's head. "I know you wouldn't."

Dick watched the flames of the campfire, and he decided there was no place on earth he'd rather be. Wrapped up in Bruce's arms with a cozy campfire roaring next to them was his new happy place. Wayne Manor held that spot in his heart too, but this was different. Here, it was just them and the heavens.

"Did you really wonder about that this whole time?" Dick asked after nearly a minute.

Bruce didn't answer right away. Dick imagined he was gathering himself from where he had almost come apart. Eventually Bruce said, "I really did." His voice was thick with emotion. He cleared his throat and pulled away, turning towards the fire again.

Dick didn't take his eyes from Bruce's face. "I really wish you would have told me. I hate the thought of you struggling with that." He turned his gaze towards the fire as well, sitting beside his guardian in companionable silence. "You can ask me things like that, even when it's about my parents. I don't mind. Not when it's you."

Wrapping an arm around Dick's shoulders, Bruce gave them a shake. "Neither do I."

"Can I ask you something else? Something different?"

"Of course you can."

Dick really wasn't sure how to go about phrasing his question, so he started with, "You're so…stoic."

Bruce glanced down his nose at Dick, his lips curling up into a smile. "That isn't a question."

Taking a deep breath, Dick let it out slowly. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "I've been wanting to ask you this for a long time too. Ever since I've known you, but even more so since I've become Robin. I guess this is the night to lay everything out on the table, isn't it?"

No answer came, but Dick hadn't been expecting one. Some of the clouds between them had burst open and spilled their contents forth, but it felt like another one had formed in the process. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but Dick wondered if it would ever be acknowledged.

"Should I try and be more like that?" Dick asked. "I thought I might have to be after I came to live with you – because I was Bruce Wayne's ward. But you never brought it up, so I figured it was fine. But with Robin…do I have to be a certain way? More serious? Should I be?"

"No," Bruce said firmly. "Not at all. Believe me, I didn't try to be like this. It just happened. I was the orphan of Thomas and Martha Wayne. It felt like the public was expecting a higher standard from me. Even more so after Batman. So I tried to portray that and…it seeped into other parts of my life. After a while, I realized it was a lot easier to push everything deep down instead of feeling them. Instead of processing them. Easier, but not better."

Bruce scooted around in his spot, facing Dick more fully. He brought one of his knees up, resting his elbow against it. "I don't want you to be like that," Bruce told him. "I love the way you are. How excited and exuberant you get. The way you came bounding into the house this afternoon. When I first met you, I didn't know that's how you could be. I had no idea this was what lay beneath all that hurt and anger. I would never ask you to try and cover all that up again. I want you to be you."

"You helped me to find that person again," Dick whispered. He sighed, staring intently into the fire. "I didn't even know if he even still existed. But I guess he did."

"You saw how hard it is for me to show those parts of myself," Bruce said, gesturing towards the ridge where he had been staring not so very long ago. "I never want you to be like that."

"I'm glad you could show me those parts of yourself," Dick said. "I like seeing them."

Bruce looked at him intently, holding his gaze for a very long time. "I like being able to show you. It's just habit to bury them as soon as they so much as surface."

"Don't. Not with me."

Just then, something else caught Dick's eye. A streak of silvery light flashed across the sky, and Dick wasn't even sure what he was seeing at first. He'd never seen one before, and it took a moment for it to truly register.

"Bruce, look!" he exclaimed, raising his finger to point behind Bruce's shoulder. "A shooting star!"

His guardian turned to look, tilting his head up towards the sky just before the blaze burned out. Everything was still and quiet, and Dick didn't think he even heard the chirp of the crickets or the crackling of the fire anymore.

Dick stared up towards the sky in awe, having the urge to pinch himself, because he couldn't believe it was real. Not just the shooting star itself, but everything that had happened to him and Bruce over the last few weeks. How indelibly their lives had changed. How much they had shared in just the last hour itself.

"I've never seen one before," Dick said quietly.

"I have. Once."

He fell into silence and Dick didn't prod for an answer. Bruce had already volunteered this information, and Dick knew more was coming. It wasn't so easy to tell with Bruce, but it was in that moment.

"The night my parents died," Bruce finally revealed. He looked at the fire again, the flames dancing in his eyes. "I was sitting in that alley afterwards with the police, trying to tell them what had happened and waiting for Alfred to come and get me. I happened to look up and…" He tilted his head back, his face upwards towards the sky again. "They say shooting stars are supposed to be good luck. In the most devastating hour of my life."

Dick didn't reply right away. He wasn't sure if he should, because he could understand the utter devastation, shock, and emptiness Bruce felt all those years ago. It was nothing that simple platitudes could even begin to help, but tonight was about him and Bruce being honest with each other.

In the end, Dick said, "Maybe it was a sign to let you know things would be okay."

The corner of Bruce's lips curled up into a smile, but it was sad, not quite reaching the rest of his face. "That's what Alfred told me." He was quiet for a while after that, but then he added, "I'm not sure I believed that until right now."

Things shifted between them in that moment, and the change was palpable. Ever since he had met Bruce, Dick often thought that the two of them couldn't get any closer than they already were. This was another one of those times. He was sure he would be proven wrong again, someday and somehow, but he didn't know how it was possible.

Bruce's arm came around him, pulling him in close. Dick pressed his face into that itchy white wool, still not caring that it was tickling his nose. He would have stayed there forever if he could, in the little clearing overlooking the mountain stream.

Bruce leaned over and whispered into his hair, "Make a wish, chum."

"It already came true."

The end

Author's note: The idea for the Wayne family ring came about, because in the very first episode of the series (and in the footage of his screen tests), Dick does indeed wear some sort of ring with a black stone. It disappears after the initial episode, but it randomly shows up again every so often. I always wonder about little details like this (especially because I love rings on men), so I had to come up with a backstory for it.

I took liberties with the names of some of the Wayne ancestors, so I could tie it into my own family history a bit. I had four successive great grandfathers who all shared the name John. Not Wayne, but another famous name with a slightly different spelling, so no actual relation to a certain famous person. I'm a bit disappointed that no one in my family ever decided to carry on that tradition. I can't, as I have no children, but I would have definitely used the name if I could.

Who here has seen a shooting star? I saw one not long after I started my most recent job. I met some of the best friends I've ever had at that job, so I think it was definitely a good sign. My brother, on the other hand, saw one at the time one his childhood friends passed away, so Bruce's reaction here is very much based on his experience. And Dick responds the same way I did.

I was looking back at when I originally published the first chapter of this story, and it was before my dad died. The sixth anniversary of his death just passed, so this story has been going on for nearly seven years. We've come a long way.

I think I'll be starting to post the prequel story On Wings of Steel 0: Frozen In Time fairly shortly. I have so much of it done, and I'm so anxious to share it with you. It still needs a lot of work, especially in regards to the villain's side of the story, but look for it soon! It's about when Dick met Bruce and became his ward. And a certain villain that fits the title!

In addition to that, I'm also planning another sequel, On Wings of Steel 3: As Above, So Below. It's in the very early planning stages, but it focuses on Batman and Robin's first major obstacle as a crime fighting duo. I will probably keep the villain a secret until I start posting it, because I want it to be a surprise. But my mind will never not be thinking up new ideas, so I hope you're excited for even more!

Thank you so, so much to each and every one of you who've left kudos, or comments, or bookmarked my work. I still can't quite believe that there are so many fans out there for a fandom that's nearly sixty years old. I love hearing from you, and I appreciate every single one of you! Until next time, my lovely Batfans.