Robin's beginning.

[loopylouise123]

Title: Robin's beginning.
Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred, John and Mary Grayson.
Summary: When Dick's parents die his belief in life fades away, but the emerge of unexpected powers brings him and two of the most unlikely heroes together.
Warnings: None
Chapter 2: Welcome home Dick.
Disclaimer: I do not own

First part here 

“Mary, you can’t keep him. Get an abortion. You know of the risks you will be taking, with our lives, with his life if you keep him. You know this!”

 

“I don’t care John. He’s mine, and no one will be able to take him away from me. Not even you.”

 

“You’re not thinking straight, think of the future…”

 

“I am John; you will grow to love him, as much as I already do. There won’t be problems until he’s older. By then we would have thought of something, I know we will.”

 

“Mary please…”

 

“If you don’t want him I’ll raise him on my own.”

 

“No! Don’t, stay. Alright, Mary you win. Keep him, who knows, maybe I will love him, and I’ll think of him as my son.”

 

“Thank you John, that’s all I ask. I love you, and I always will.”  

 

*****

 

While he stood gaping at what only be called a mansion Dick tried to remember why Mr Wayne wanted to take him in.

 

Why would he want me when he has all of this?

 

“Welcome home Dick.” Bruce moved to stand behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking up at his home before his eyes locked with the boy’s vibrant blue, and he smiled reassuringly, “Come on, Alfred will show you your room.” With that his hand dropped away and the strange uncomfortable tension that filled the man’s stature that crept up every time he was near Dick appeared once again before he strode away, not even sneaking a glance back.

 

Dick was left there standing awkwardly feeling disappointment fill the surge that had sprung from Bruce’s small smile.

 

“Come Master Dick, let me take your things.” The butler, that Dick was already beginning to like took his small bag from him and beckoned to follow. The boy was quickly realizing how different things were already becoming.

 

Never in his small life would he have dreamed he would have a butler, let alone live in a house that he bet could fill one hundred of his trailers. Though he really couldn’t describe the man that had told him to call him Alfred a butler. He was too kind, had a spark of wisdom in his old eyes and held some authority over the mysterious billionaire that even Dick picked up on.  

 

As they stepped inside Dick was beginning to recalculate exactly how many trailers could actually fit into this house. It was huge.

 

“This building has been standing for hundreds of years, and new wings have been constantly rebuilt over that time.” Alfred cleared his throat as those huge confused eyes turned to his, Dick being unaware that he had voiced his opinion on how large the building was. “If you would follow me Master Dick.” And Alfred purposely ignored the look of distaste on the boy’s face every time he was addressed with that title.

 

Dick was grateful that his room was easy to locate and remember within the maze of this mansion, however he couldn’t stop his eyes widening at the size of his bedroom.

 

He watched Alfred mesmerised as he placed his bag on the huge double bed and began unpacking. Dick stepped in uncertainly and felt the soft red carpet underneath his feet.

 

He had never felt smaller.

 

“Is there anything else you need?”

 

Dick turned towards Alfred again and noticed that all of his clothes had been put into a separate bag.

 

Alfred followed the young master’s gaze and answered accordingly. “Master Bruce has taken the liberty of replacing your wardrobe and requested that all of your old garments are to be disposed of.”

 

When all Alfred got was an unwavering stare, he cleared his throat again, nodded and formally told him that dinner would be served within an hour. Before leaving and allowing the new master to accommodate himself and make use of the bathroom.

 

Dick gently felt his way around the room, his touch lingering on the train set and rocking horse that obviously belonged to the previous owner of this room. He walked slowly up to the bed and crawled his way onto it and dragged his knees up to his chest. He was again reminded of the size and the sheer emptiness of the room.

 

He suddenly felt very, very alone.

 

****

    

It had been a week.

 

The longest and loneliest week in Dick Grayson’s life.

 

Bruce had only been presents at dinner once, was never there for lunch but he had always been there at breakfast. However every time Dick sat down at the table waiting for Alfred to hand him his toast the billionaire quickly grunted an excuse and left before any real conversation had passed between the two.

 

“Bruce doesn’t like me does he.” Dicks sad voice drifted over the room just after Bruce had left in a hurry again. 

 

Alfred paused in his cleaning and gently put the dish back into the water, he turned to see the young master looking sadly at the door that Master Bruce had left from.

 

He sighed and dried his hands, placing the folded towel neatly on the side and sat down next to his newest charge, his mind already trying to form words that that would comfort the boy. 

 

“Master Bruce likes you very much Master Dick. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to act around you, he doesn’t know you very well yet and his work demands much of his time.”

 

Dick sat thoughtfully, his eight year old mind digesting the information. “So, if he gets to know me better, then he won’t leave me alone all the time?”

 

Alfred smiled lightly. “Of course Master Dick, you are a very likeable young man, and once Master Bruce realises this I’m sure you would be spending a lot more time together.” And if he doesn’t I will have a word with him. Batman or no Batman this boy needs a father figure.

 

Dick ducked his head and felt a red flush covering his cheeks at the compliment. Once he looked up he noticed the large pile of dishes that still needed to be washed and dried.

 

“Can I help?” He asked shyly pointing to the offending dishes in question.

 

Alfred smiled a real smile this time. “Of course you can my boy. Here.” He grabbed a stool and placed it by the counter and handed him a towel once Dick had stepped up. “You can dry them and place them on side as I hand them to you.”

 

When Bruce got home from his trying day at work, with the new contract still not underway he noticed quickly that Alfred wasn’t in his normal place. Confused he quickly took up a search, worry piling in his gut as he knew his old friend never broke his routine.

 

His worry was immediately replaced by surprise as he stepped into the kitchen.

 

Both Alfred and Dick were covered in white flour, though of course, Alfred less than Dick. The boy even had some in his hair, as it contrasted sharply with his midnight locks.

 

It was rather obvious that they were making cookies.

 

“Hey Bruce!” Dick greeted cheerfully, his usual sadness that had clung to him this passed week was replaced by laughter. “Look at what me and Alfred made!”

 

“Alfred and I.” The butler corrected automatically.

 

Dick scrunched up his face but corrected himself anyway.

 

  

Bruce, dumbstruck, walked over and looked past the boy to see twelve lumps of mix on a tray, ready for the oven.

 

“I wanted them to be ready for when you got home.” The boy said sheepishly, “But the flour was being difficult.”

 

Bruce heard Alfred chuckle behind him and Bruce couldn’t stop the smile forming on his face.

 

“It’s alright chum. I think we should save them till after dinner.”

 

“You’re going to sit with me at dinner later then?” The boy’s voice was full of hope that made Bruce chest ache in realisation at how much he had been neglecting him.

 

“Of course.”

 

Dick’s face lit with a smile that he thought he wouldn’t see for a long time. “Great! I’ll just go and get cleaned up.” Before Bruce could even form a reply the child was out of the room, racing towards his bathroom.

 

“I’ve made a mess of things haven’t I Alfred.” Bruce said sadly as he watched the boy go.

 

This past week he had been trying to locate the criminal Tony Zucco, the man who caused the only stable things in an eight year old boy’s life to come crashing around him.

 

He had been stalking the streets of Gotham, determined to flush out the scum that had been responsible for the Grayson’s death, only to find out that somehow Zucco had fled and disappeared.

 

The Gotham criminals had suffered his rage.

 

“It’s far from to late to fix things Master Bruce.”

 

Bruce turned towards Alfred and watched him clean up the last of the mess.

 

“He’s a very empathetic boy. He will know that you genially want to be with him. Unless of course the Batman has some business tonight.”

 

Bruce winced. “No, Zucco can’t stay hidden forever, and I will find him. But tonight I will be doing more important things.”

 

He saw Alfred’s satisfactory nod and smile before he made his way upstairs, intent of changing out of his suit and into something more comfortable.

 

****

 

His parents were falling.

 

And he couldn’t stop them.

 

He tried to reach out.

 

But it wasn’t enough.

 

It was never enough.

 

But then the scene changed. Instead of falling, they were suddenly flying, their shapes twisted and changed until they were no longer his parents.

 

One resembled a monster, a dark billowing cape, and a dark horned head, but yet he felt no fear. Batman.

 

The other, his costume as bright as those in the circus, with the famous S in the middle of his chest. Superman.

 

They were coming, running towards him, but they weren’t flying.

 

He was falling.

 

Away and away, while the two heroes desperately tried to save him.             

 

“Dick! Wake up.”

 

The boy bolted upright and quickly became aware that he was safe, in the large bed that he still didn’t think was really his, in the room with the train set and rocking horse, and with Bruce looking down at him, his hands placed gently on his shoulders.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Dick looked up into normally cold blue eyes that was now filled with an emotion that he only ever saw his parents use, and he felt his own brim with tears.

 

He launched himself into his guardian’s chest and cried, while two strong arms wrapped themselves around his small form. Offering comfort and safety, just like his dad used to.

 

That dream, nightmare had frightened him. While the recurring memory of his parent’s death had tortured his sleep, it hadn’t made him scared, not like this.

 

He realised that he was shaking.

 

Bruce’s response was to only tighten the hold and whisper soothing words in his ear. He didn’t know what that dream meant, perhaps it was just a dream. But never had he ever dreamt of those two heroes before. Actually, he never dreamt of any heroes, ever. Not even Superman.

 

And the fact that in the dream they couldn’t save him, made him more frightened than ever.