Ch. 3

Dick sat listlessly picking at his warm oatmeal Alfred had made for him. He watched the steam rise and fall, the brown sugar slowly melting into a sticky warm puddle that became absorbed by the cooked oats. Alfred had left the room to get ready for the day, so Dick sat there alone momentarily. He knew he had to eat, but his stomach twisted in rebellion.

He'd woken up from a nightmare. Again. This was the third time this week. He'd barely gotten three hours of sleep last night before he woke up in a cold sweat tangled in the sheets in terror. It gripped him like a vise, squeezing his insides until he couldn't breathe. This time his nightmare wasn't losing his parents, but everyone leaving him. His parents were gone, his friends, his relatives. Not even Mr. Wayne or Alfred had been there to save him.

He'd been dropped at the doorstep of another foster home. He watched his parents disappear into the mist without so much as a word. He had screamed their names in terror and confusion. Why did they leave him? He had tried to grasp their hands to pull them back, but he passed through them. They were ghosts. Just wisps of cold air that curled into nothing. He had turned back to the door that was his new home. It swung open to reveal a hallway bathed in warm light. It looked inviting and he could hear laughter inside. There were children's feet running down the hall, but he saw no one.

Something pulled him inside, but another part of him said to run. He was stuck. No one wanted him outside. He was utterly alone. Yet like a moth to a flame the inside beckoned him. Then someone called his name. Richard…Richard… His name wafted through the air rising and falling about him. 'Who…who's there?' he called out his voice wavering. There was no response just his name slicing through the air. It had come from somewhere inside.

He remained frozen. Rooted to the ground. Panic filled him. Why am I alone? What did I do wrong? Why would my parents abandon me? The air around him provided no answers. Perhaps, someone inside would. He hesitated his hand clutching the doorknob. 'Hello?' he called out. Richard…Richard… someone whispered. He had to know who said his name. He took a step forward onto a plush red rug in the entryway. The door slammed shut behind him. He whirled around to once more to hear warm laughter ring through the walls.

He had no idea where he was or who the home belonged to. It smelled of spices and berries. He took another step forward and then to his horror the floor opened under him. Black oily hands reached up and grabbed his feet and legs. He screamed kicking them away. He tried to scramble away from their reach, but they dug into him clawing at his clothes. 'No…no…no! Let me go!' His heart hammered in his chest, the blood thrumming in his ears as if his eardrums would burst. He pulled with all his might, but the effort was futile. The next thing he knew the house disappeared and he was falling into utter darkness.

He had bolted upright shaking in sheer panic. It took him a few minutes to realize where he was and that he was awake. Soft moonlight streamed through his windows and he scrambled out of bed and stumbled over to the window. His fingers shook as he undid the latch and threw it open, cold air blasting him in the face.

It was still raining, but his bedroom had a covered balcony. A few weeks ago, he had discovered that further up the roof a small alcove had been built. It was like a box with three walls, the fourth open to the outside. Apparently, it had been an extra part of the roof that at one point may have become a chimney but had now been abandoned. Dick sat at the edge of the balcony letting the rain wash over him. He watched the lightning flash across the sky like an angry deity.

He stood there overlooking Wayne Manor observing the grounds and surrounding area. This was his new home. The home of the billionaire Bruce Wayne and ironically that of the Batman. Dick loved the smell of fresh rain. It was cleansing and it released earthy scents that comforted him. He waited until the remnants of the dream dissipated into his subconscious before heading back inside.

He was soaking wet having been out there for at least an hour. He jumped in the shower to warm up, hanging his pjs to dry in the bathroom. He grabbed a t-shirt and yoga pants and then curled up in a chair in the corner of his room. He knew it would be too hard to go back to sleep, so he pulled out his history book and began his homework for the week. Eventually, he dozed off until a loud buzzing noise nearly knocked him out of his chair.

His clock showed 7 a.m. and then there was a prompt knock on his door.

"Master Grayson?"

Dick went over and opened the door. "Good morning, Alfred. I'm up and I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright," Alfred smiled at him, but then he paused and studied the boy. "Are you okay, Master Grayson?"

Dick looked at him blinking. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine just half asleep still." Dick gave a lopsided smile.

"Okay. Your oatmeal will be ready in ten minutes," Alfred nodded and then disappeared down the hallway.

Dick closed the door quietly before wandering into the bathroom. He stared at his reflection. No wonder Alfred took a double take. His eyes were rimmed in red and there were dark circles beginning to form. His black hair stuck out in different directions that made him look like there was a porcupine on his head. He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but he told himself he would be fine. If he could grab a few cat naps, he could get through school and his sporting activities. He was young, so he'd bounce back eventually.

Dick stared down at his oatmeal willing it to disappear. He took a few bites, but it tasted like sandpaper in his mouth. He had to eat, or Alfred would know something was wrong. He couldn't let his caretakers worry about him. He knew Bruce worried about him on an emotional level, but the man had enough on his plate to worry about. Dick didn't want to add any more stress to it.

He finished his breakfast and set the bowl in the sink when Alfred reappeared.

"Oh, good you're finished with breakfast," the elderly man said setting some boxes down on the counter.

Dick paused. "Yes, I'm about to get dressed. Is there something you need?"

"No, just get dressed and meet me back here. I have something to show you."

Dick nodded and then disappeared upstairs. When he came back down, he found the kitchen counters covered in flasks and different sized containers.

"What's this?" Dick asked perplexed.

"Chemistry lesson," replied Alfred with a smile.

Dick laughed. "Didn't Mr. Wayne disapprove of our last experiment."

"Yes, until I told him it was educational."

Alfred motioned him over and began to go over several materials that were laid out on the counter. Some were ordinary things like salt, sugar, and water while others were hydrogen, oxygen, cleaning materials like Clorox and bleach.

The two of them spent the next several hours creating multiple chemical reactions and solutions. Thankfully, Alfred had several fire extinguishers on hand because some of the experiments were quite explosive.

In the end, Dick found himself smiling as he lost himself in the chemical equations and Alfred's lessons. He eventually forgot about his rough night and focused on his school. He may not have been in a lab, but the two of them completed the role perfectly with their safety goggles and white protective vests. They paused their work for a lunch break to make sandwiches away from possible hazardous waste.

As late afternoon rolled out, they switched from chemistry to cooking lessons to watching history documentaries. Dick loved school and learning about new things and he was grateful that Alfred found it important to educate him.

Alfred was more than a butler, he was a teacher, an encourager and Dick realized he was becoming a good friend. Dick found himself outside on one of the many manor's balconies watching a flock of birds cross the sky. The sun shone above him lifting his mood as a gentle breeze blew across the rolling fields.

For the first time, since he had arrived at Wayne Manor, he felt at peace. He felt like he belonged there. He still missed his parents terribly, but the painful ache had eased over the past year. Once he had discovered the identity of the Batman he felt safer. When he was taken in by Mr. Wayne, he didn't know anything about the man just that he was very well off. He had money, but Dick knew money didn't buy happiness.

He had been a shattered kid withdrawing into himself not wanting to trust anyone again. He'd learned that the foster system is a cold dark place. Many of the parents did it for the extra cash. It had rules and structure, but there was no warmth behind it. No emotions. Obey, get through school, be the good kid. The last family Dick had been with he'd met two other foster kids a few years older than him. They paid little attention to him, but they made sure he knew his place.

There was no sibling love just tolerance. The oldest one couldn't wait till he was 18 and get out of there. Dick had kept to himself until the family had gotten a call that there was someone who had been waiting to collect him. That was when he'd met Mr. Wayne. He'd come in person to settle the legal affairs and then Dick found himself alone in the car with the billionaire.

It had been awkward at first and Dick remembered mumbling a hello before staring at his hands. He didn't know how to react. He didn't even know the man, but he was afraid it would be a temporary fix until someone else claimed him. Dick remembered looking up at Mr. Wayne confused.

"Why me?" he had asked. "I'm nobody."

Mr. Wayne had given him a look that crossed between sadness and surprise. "I had met your parents a long time ago. I didn't know it then, but they had helped me out when no one else did."

Dick watched him wide eyed. "You knew my parents?"

"Briefly, yes I did. I liked them. A lot." Bruce paused. "I'm so sorry, kid. Losing your parents is something no child should go through."

Dick nodded stiffening. He could feel the tears threatening to come, but he stuffed them down. He was so tired of crying. He'd cried himself to sleep almost every night since his first foster home. Now he just wanted to feel numb. He wanted the pain to go away. He hated the way his gut rolled and his eyes burned at anything that reminded him of his parents. He loved them so much it hurt.

A few days later, Alfred had found him one day sitting in a corner in his bedroom. His knees tucked against his chest slowly rocking himself. He stared unfocused at the other side of the room. He barely heard Alfred sit down next to him. They sat that way for awhile until Alfred laid a warm hand on his arm. At first, he flinched but eventually let Alfred draw him into a semi-hug.

Alfred began to tell him a story then about a lost little red bird. He'd been blown out of tree from a summer storm and couldn't find his way back to his family. He was alone in this huge forest with no friends, no family, no direction. Until he met a tiny fruit bat. Together they journeyed through the woods to find his family. Sadly, the little bird's nest had been destroyed in the storm. His family was gone. The poor bird was beside himself with grief, but then the fruit bat said he could take him in. The little bird would join the bat's family and even though he's lost his family, he had gained a new one. They were now brothers, and to this day, it's said in the evening, you can hear the two of them calling to one another.

At the end of it, Dick had found himself crying in Alfred's arms. He apologized over and over embarrassing himself, but Alfred just soothed him whispering words of comfort. Alfred knew the boy just needed someone to be there for him. He wished Bruce could be the one holding the child, but he was nowhere near that. Bruce was never good with emotions often locking his own away. But Alfred knew it was there, raw and powerful, hidden beneath his rough exterior. Despite Bruce's training and meditation, he himself had never completely healed from his parents' murder.

Alfred worried that one day he would snap, and he'd cross a line he couldn't come back from. He didn't want the same fate to take hold of the child in his arms. Alfred had a second chance. A second chance to help a broken child heal completely. He would do his darn best to make it happen.

Alfred watched the boy on the balcony. Dick had come a long way since that first week. He guessed the child still had nightmares. His face that morning had confirmed that. He'd have to talk with Bruce about that once he came home. Maybe he could find a relaxing technique to help ease the kid's mind. Alfred could only occupy his attention for so long with explosive experiments in the kitchen.

Alfred looked down to see his phone buzz. Bruce had texted he would be home late. He was following up a lead on that cold case he'd been working on for the past several months. Alfred sighed. Once Bruce found a trail it was nearly impossible to derail him. He looked back up to see Dick come in. The kid looked exhausted.

"Master Grayson, why don't you go lie down for a while. Master Bruce is going to be home late and I need to finish some things around the house."

Dick looked up alarmed. "No, I'm okay really. I just needed some fresh air."

Alfred frowned. Why did he always get stuck with the stubborn ones? "Master Grayson go rest. You've done enough work today."

Dick sighed his head dropping. He knew he could never counter argue against Alfred. He needed sleep, but he was terrified of the nightmares that would rob him of it. As if reading his thoughts, Alfred stuck something in his hand. He blinked confused.

"This might help."

Dick looked down to see a small tablet in his hand. A sleeping pill. He almost laughed. This was going to knock him out past cloud nine.

"I'll never be able to sleep tonight, Alfred."

"You'll be fine, Master Grayson. It's a specialized pill I made."

Dick gave Alfred a look of shock, awe, and confusion. "What? Is this even safe?"

"Master Grayson, I wouldn't have given it to you if it wasn't okay. Now go before I knock you out myself."

"Alright, alright. I'm going. I'll see you later, Alfred."

Once Dick took his leave, Alfred turned on some soft classical music. Now he just had to find that list he'd made the other day.