Bruce pushed open the glass french doors that led out to a wide stone paved patio. He stepped out into the cool night, now wearing a dark sweater and comfortable pair of khakis. The black expanse of the sea stretched out before the manor. The only evidence of its horizon was the abrupt appearance of the stars. They sprayed up and across the sky. Below the magnificent display a small figure bent over an expensive telescope. Hands in pockets, Bruce stolled out to him.
"Beautiful night for star gazing." He said, annoucing his presence.
Dick looked up. "Oh hi, Bruce." He said and immediately ducked back down. "This telescope's so cool! I can see everything!"
Bruce chuckled. "I'm glad it's getting some good use." He pulled out a metal chair from a glass topped table and sat down. Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back in the chair to admire the sky. Neither he nor Dick spoke for quite a while as each in their own way scanned the glimmering night. The light pollution of Gotham did not quite reach to this view. Walk around to the front of Wayne manor and it was a a different story.
Eventually, Bruce checked his watch and broke the silence. "Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"
"Eh," Dick shrugged. "Not tired."
"Alfred tells me you've been having trouble sleeping."
"How'd he know?" Dick asked too quickly, but didnt look up from the eye piece.
Bruce couldn't help but smile. He thought of himself as a boy trying to pull anything over on Alfred. "He's a smart man. It's almost impossible to hide anything from him." He looked over at the faint silhouette. "Seen any shooting stars tonight?" He asked, changing the subject.
"A couple." Dick said.
"I've seen about six since I walked out here."
That got the boy's full attention and he stood upright. "Aw, come on!" He whined.
Bruce chuckled again. "You can only see a limited section of the sky in there. Come sit and look at the whole thing." His own words reminded him of his mother. She had been the one to teach him the constellations, there on that same patio. He hadn't realized until right then that was the reason he'd even put the telescope there.
Dick abandoned the device, walked over and pulled a chair out from the table. He leaned back, head bent all the way, and took in the sky. Only a few seconds had passed when he triumphantly announced "There's one!"
"Told ya." Bruce said with an easy grin. Three sightings later and he checked his watch again. In the darkness he could see the boy turn and watch him do so.
"Dick," he said. "It's very late-"
"Please don't make me go to bed." Dick's voice held a note of panic.
They sat there for a moment, at an impasse in the dark.
"Are you having nightmares, Dick?"
Silence.
"You remember I lost my parents the same way you did?"
"Yeah." Dick said too quietly.
"Well," Bruce offered. "For a year or so after, I had really terrible nightmares. I didn't want to go to sleep."
"Really?"
It made Bruce feel strange, almost like he was floating, to remember himself as a grieving boy. He nodded in the dark, trusting Dick could see it against the dim light coming from inside the manor.
"What did you do?" He sounded so young. It surprised Bruce. He was such a brave kid.
"Alfred stayed with me. He slept on the floor in my room for months." Again, that sensation of floating came over Bruce. Silence settled between the two of them. The sea roared, bats squeaked and the two orphans just breathed.
"It was awful." Bruce suddenly found himself saying. "Not only did I miss them but the nightmares started to make it almost too frightening to want to think of them."
Without warning Dick started to cry. For a moment Bruce just sat, taken aback as quiet whimpering sounds escaped his young companion. Then, recovering himself, he leaned forward and reached a hand out to his shoulder. The ten year old began to quake with grief. Bruce wasn't sure what to do so he just kept a gentle grip on his shoulder. Dick surprised him again when he got up and stepped over to Bruce. Still crying, he threw his arms arm his guardian's neck and buried his face in his chest. Instinctively Bruce put his arms around him and hugged him close. He cried and cried for a long time. When finally he calmed, tremulous breathing becoming regular, Bruce gently pulled the child off of him. "I've still got some things to do." He said to the awkward little shadow now standing in front of him. "Would you like to lay down on the sofa in the study while I work?" Dick nodded mutely. Bruce stood and moved toward the house. At the door he waited as the little shadow shuffled into the light. Red, puffy eyes looked down at the ground. Again, Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. Dick looked up at him. "Why don't you go get a blanket from your room." He wandered off toward the stairs and Bruce watched him go until he was out of sight.
A little later, Bruce sat at his desk shuffling papers, scribbling and reading. He and his work were illuminated by a single desk lamp. The rest of the room lay in warm shadow. Across from the desk, Dick was curled up beneath a blanket on the leather sofa breathing steadily. After settling down in the dim room, knowing he wasn't alone, he had fallen asleep almost instantly. Sometime around two AM he shook from terror and snapped awake. Bruce, having seen the nightmare in progress, was there with him. He sat on the edge of the couch and held his hand. Dick lay there for a while, just breathing. Neither one spoke and soon sleep swept him away again.
It went like that for many nights, sometimes even in the Batcave. Wrapped in a blanket, Dick would cuddle up on the cushioned seat in the open Batmobile as Bruce worked into the night. There was a strange comfort to be found in dozing off to the echo of clattering keys, various computer bleeps and, of course, the squeak of bats. The most comforting part of those night, though, was when he drifted in and out to the low voices of Bruce and Alfred talking.
But the study was the norm. Even when Bruce was out watching over Gotham, as he often was, Dick still found the study and its sofa a safe haven. And if he asked, Alfred would sit with him, chatting softly until he fell asleep.
Almost every time, whether at one in the morning or six, Bruce would be there to carry him back to his room and return him to his own bed. There were of course the few times Bruce didn't return until the next day. Those times Dick would be awoken by the sun shining through the study windows and Alfred there to greet him.
As time went on, he found himself more and more able to go to sleep in his own room. A day did eventually come when the nightmares abated, when memories of his parents didn't fill him with fear. It took a long time, but he had help. Dick wasn't alone and he did not have to grieve alone either.