A.N. Hello readers! I've decided to try my hand at another fanfiction. I've always been a fan of Batman and Robin, so here goes nothing. This is experimental and I look forward to seeing where it goes. Please read and review so I can improve my storytelling. Thanks!

Side note: You may notice small details that will be different than the DC canon stories. I want to focus more on the relationships than backstory, so I hope you don't mind any creative spins on things. Feel free to comment though if you feel something is really off. Thanks!

A Dark Secret

Chapter 1

It had been a year since Batman took Dick Grayson under his wing. Following the death of his parents, the young boy had folded into himself despite Bruce and Alfred's attempts to draw him out. Dick would have nothing to do with it. Bruce was able to peak his interest through the discovery of the Batcave, but it lapsed after awhile. The boy didn't even seem fazed that Bruce was Batman.

Eventually, life adjusted and Dick accepted Mr. Wayne's proposal to look after him. Over the course of the year, the boy attended private studies at the Wayne mansion. Learning new subjects seemed to distract the boy from his grief, but it worried Bruce knowing if the boy didn't open up, it could destroy him. He had learned that the hard way, but he worked through his issues thanks to his other persona.

With Dick being so young, Bruce wouldn't dare suit him up for crime work. Bruce wanted the exact opposite. He wanted the kid to grow up and live a life of normalcy. Bruce wanted him to make friends, go to Gotham Middle School, do sports, go to movies, and do things normal kids his age should be able to do. Be able to live the life he could never have.

Alfred could only do so much looking after the boy, when Bruce was out attending other matters. Dick was currently in the library studying algebra. Alfred spotted him in the northern corner hunched over his books.

He approached quietly and set the tray that held dinner on the table with a clunk.

Dick looked up hearing him. "Hey, Alfred."

"Master Grayson, I thought I'd find you here. I've prepared your soup. Are you hungry?"

Before he could answer, his stomach rumbled. He gave Alfred a lopsided grin. "I guess I am."

He cleared his books from the table while Alfred began to set out the dishes.

Once he finished, Alfred stood back up. "Is there anything else you need, Master Grayson?"

The boy looked up from his mouthful of beef and potato soup. "No. Thank you, Alfred."

"Alright, if you do need anything else, you know how to reach me. I'll be back in a little bit."

Dick nodded before returning to his soup. The wariness that clung to the back of his mind began to clear as energy returned to his bones. As he ate, his mind wandered back to the fateful night that changed his life forever.

He remembered everything. His parents yelling. His dad whipping out some bills and throwing them at the feet of a man who loomed menacingly above them. His mother had shoved him gently back into their makeshift home at the circus.

"Go back to sleep, love. It's alright. Dad is just talking to a businessman."

"He sounds angry," Dick whispered with frightened eyes.

"I know, honey, but everything will be alright."

Everything would not be alright. The arguing would intensify to the point of fatality. Richard Grayson would never be able to understand why his parents were taken away from him that night.

There was no warning. Just the whispers of a silencer snuffing out two lives, and the thud of death.

Though he had only been eight years old, he knew his parents were gone. The bodies would cool slowly as the night pressed on. He watched confused and numb as sheets were pulled over their faces.

A steady hand took his own small one and led him into a car. That car would lead him to the lobby of a police station where officers left him. He sat in a chair much to big for him hugging his knees to his chest. His eyes staring blankly at a wall until a face appeared before him.

A face lined with wrinkles and wisdom. A face named Alfred.

Though Alfred and Bruce had both stepped in as his caretakers, nothing could replace the ache in his heart. Dick wiped away a stray tear that had found its way down his face. He was grateful for Alfred and Bruce. If they hadn't volunteered to take him in, he would have ended up in the Gotham foster system or worse.

It was almost seven when Alfred returned. He found Dick staring out the window at the steady stream of rain that pounded against the windows. The bowl of soup was empty as well as the glass of milk.

The boy looked up seeing Alfred standing next to him.

"Why does it always rain in Gotham?" he asked quietly.

Alfred raised a brow. "I guess Mother Nature mourns the city's ways."

Dick shot Alfred a confused look.

Alfred winced. "Oh! Umm, I guess the weather patterns always bring clouds in, so it then creates the rain."

Dick nodded though Alfred doubted he bought his theory.

"Is Mr. Wayne back from work?" Dick didn't even know why he asked. The man was very busy with his work at Wayne Corporations. He even knew about his other work as Batman. He doubted he would be able to see him until tomorrow morning.

"He actually just arrived. He wants to speak with you, if you are up to it."

"Sure. Let me pack up and I'll be right down. Thanks for dinner, Alfred."

"Of course, Master Grayson." Alfred grabbed the wooden tray before disappearing through the door.

A few minutes later, Dick came down the stairs into the main living room of the Wayne Mansion. This was where he and Mr. Wayne always talked. It was furnished with a large fireplace and a fuzzy oriental rug. The room always smelled of old tobacco and cedar spices.

He spotted the young billionaire sitting in his favorite grey leather chair flickering through some files. He pondered about his next step. Even though he told Alfred he'd go down and talk to Bruce something else pulled him away. Bruce hadn't spotted him yet, and he could easily slip back up the stairs.

He looked up to see Bruce's eyes on him. So much for the evasion. Sighing internally, Dick made the rest of his way into the living room. The fireplace was on casting flickering shadows about the room. They seemed to dance as if they were alive. Dick pulled his eyes away from them and fixed them on Bruce's feet.

He almost laughed out loud. Bruce had on soft, leather slippers with white fuzz poking out. This seemed to be one of the few times, he'd seen the man in anything but formal shoes.

He cleared his throat softly and peeked through his overgrown bangs. "You wanted to speak with me, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce put down the files that were in his hands and gestured for Dick to have a seat across from him. All the while his dark eyes fixed on the boy as he made his way across the room.

Dick didn't think he was in trouble, but he still felt uneasy being watched by the person whose alter ego was a masked vigilante. Not that he minded. In all honesty, he could care less. Bruce's words drew him out of his own head.

"I know this past year has been really hard on you. I wanted to see how you've being doing," began Bruce.

"Well, school's been good. I've learned lots of new things in science and math. Alfred showed me how to make a volcano."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that last comment. He'll have to question Alfred about their latest science experiment. Bruce remained silent letting Dick carry on.

"Other than swimming lessons and tennis, I've been staying busy. I've…umm been okay," Dick knew he wasn't explaining the whole truth, but he didn't feel like explaining everything.

"It sounds like you've got school under control," Bruce said pleased. He watched the boy carefully wondering how to approach the painful subject.

Dick looked at him through his long lashes. He sighed. He knew exactly what Bruce wanted to know, but Dick didn't feel ready to confess to him yet to himself.

But before he could stop it, his mouth ran away without his brain following.

"I still have nightmares, and I see their faces everywhere…" Dick's voice dropped to a pained whisper. "I can hear them talking to me, but I know they aren't here. They're never coming back, are they?"

Bruce shook his head. It pained him to see the same look of sorrow and haunted eyes that once reflected his own many years ago. Before him sat a boy fighting his own terror while trying to act like nothing was wrong.

He studied Dick's face as different emotions fled across it like deer over a meadow. Eventually, his face reverted to a masked neutral look.

"How can I help?" Bruce asked softly. He didn't want to force any of his own coping methods on the boy, knowing it could push him down the wrong path.

"I… I don't know…"

Bruce scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I'm not really good at the whole parenting thing. That's more Alfred's line of work, but if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

Dick nodded and looked up at Bruce with a tentative smile. "Thanks, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce nodded, before looking down at his watch. It was getting late. As if to confirm, Dick yawned before slapping a hand over his mouth. He looked at Bruce with alarm in his eyes.

Bruce smiled. This boy was raised well, always polite and punctual despite his young age. He let out a low chuckle. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Isn't that Alfred's job?" Dick asked hopping off the chair.

Bruce paused half raised out of his chair. "Did you want Alfred? I can get him."

"Uh, no. It's fine," Dick said briskly.

Bruce followed him up to the second story of the house where the bedrooms were. Bruce suddenly felt quite out of place. This was really the first time, he helped Dick get ready for the night and he realized he had no idea what to do.

Dick must of sensed his awkwardness because he asked if Bruce could grab his pajamas while he brushed his teeth. He disappeared into the bathroom, as Bruce headed to the bedroom. The room was simple, but more than fancy for the young boy used to living in a makeshift tent.

The walls were colored a light blue with white laced drapes that covered a window to the east side of the house. As he looked around, he realized that Dick had made it his own with a few toys and items from his old place. He spotted his book bag in the corner neatly tucked away and ready for tomorrow.

It amazed him, how studious the young boy was. He never complained about homework and seemed quite satisfied with his subjects. Turning back to the bed, he saw the boy's PJ's laid out neatly folded.

That was definitely Alfred's handiwork. He grabbed them and went back out to the hallway. Dick opened the door and took them from his hand. "Thanks," he muttered quietly.

Bruce decided to wait in the bedroom till Dick returned. He leaned against the wall and ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long. Time for a trim soon. He closed his eyes for a few minutes before he heard the padding of small feet coming down the hallway.

Dick entered tossing his worn clothes into a basket in the closet. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his neck.

Bruce walked over to his side. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Are you warm enough?" he asked.

The boy nodded watching his face.

"Alright then. Breakfast will be ready whenever you get up. I have a meeting in the morning, so I'll see you later in the day. If you need anything, just call Alfred. Good night, Dick."

"Night, Mr. Wayne," the boy whispered softly.

Bruce cast one more glance over the boy, and satisfied there was nothing else left to be done, he exited the room closing the door softly.

Bruce sat down heavily in his arm chair once more. He laid his head back and sighed deeply. He was exhausted.

Maybe tonight he could catch a break. Gotham's summer storms sent even the toughest of criminals scurrying inside. This was one of those times. With this much lightning and rain, they were more likely to be stopped by Mother Nature than the Batman.

Bruce picked up one of the files he had set aside earlier. He was looking into an unsolved cold case from five years ago.

A mother and daughter had mysteriously disappeared from Gotham before their bodies were found down by the Gotham river banks. The police summed it up to a kidnapping gone wrong, but Bruce didn't believe it.

This past week he had been gathering up evidence to build a case when he became stumped. His trail had gone cold but in a very different spot that the original investigation.

Something didn't add up, but Bruce had no more leads. It was time to switch things up and look at it from another angle. What he couldn't get as Batman, maybe he could get as Bruce Wayne.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned softly.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

Bruce looked up to see Alfred enter the room. "Yes, I'm fine."

Alfred glanced around before his eyes flickered back to Bruce. "Where is Master Grayson?"

"I put him to bed."

Alfred gave a thoughtful hum. "You know, you mean a lot to him."

Bruce arched an eyebrow.

"He may not admit it, but he looks up to you," Alfred continued.

"To me or the Batman?"

"You, Sir. He could care less about your alter ego."

Bruce was surprised. Most kids his age sought every opportunity to see the Dark Knight that watched over Gotham. Though Richard Grayson was different than most kids his age. He was more mature and responsible.

"He's been through a lot," said Bruce quietly.

"Yes, and that is why he needs you."

"Alfred, we've been through this. Parenting is your superpower not mine."

Alfred lets out a low chuckle. "And what are you going to do when I'm not around?"

"Are you planning on going somewhere?"

Alfred shot him a knowing look.

Oh, that kind of gone.

"We're a long way from that Alfred."

"I'm not getting any younger here, Bruce."

Alfred only used his first name when he addressed something serious.

Bruce sighed. He was the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. The last thing on his mind was becoming a parent. He had enough on his plate as it is. "I'll try, but I have no clue what I'm doing."

"Look at it this way, sir. Don't think of it as a parent, but more like a teacher. A mentor."

"Alright, fine. But if the kid gets messed up, I'm placing him back under your care."

"Deal."

Bruce set down the files and ran a hand over his chin. "I think I'm gonna turn in for the night."

"Good idea, sir. Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine," Bruce stood up his back cracking with the effort. "Night Alfred."

"Good night, Master Wayne."

Bruce made his way up the stairs and down the hall. As he walked past Dick's room, he stopped and turned back. He peeked his head in to see a tuft of black hair slowly rising and falling to the steady rhythm of sleep.

Satisfied, he continued to his own bedroom. After finishing his nightly routine, he threw on his night ware and climbed into bed, setting his internal alarm for the morning. He closed his eyes, listening to the howling wind and slashing rain that eventually lulled him to sleep.