Heartstrings

I do NOT own Young Justice League . . . or Robin . . . or Batman, sadly. I would love it if I did, but I don't, so I suppose I'll have to make due with writing totally awesome (I hope) DC fanfic

Richard Grayson. He is your ward. Your adopted son. Your sidekick and protégée. The boy who you've cared for since his parents died when he was just a young child. The boy you've sworn to protect with everything that you've got for as long as you can.

Dick is the nine-year-old boy who pulls at your heartstrings whenever he has a nightmare and crawls into your bed seeking comfort from his mentor and father; he is the boy who makes your heart melt with one sad look.

And that's just what happened one day after an encounter with the Joker and Harley Quinn . . .

You jump out of the Batmobile, carefully taking an unconscious Dick out of the passenger seat. You walk quickly-but carefully-through the Batcave up to the manor even though both you and Dick still have your costumes on. Almost immediately Alfred comes up to you and looks at Dick with a worried look-the same look he gave you when you broke your arm when you were eleven.

"He's alright." you say. "He just got a few cuts on his arms and his face and . . ." you don't finish. And you don't need to. Alfred knows-he can see the spot where the bullet grazed his leg fairly clearly.

He gently pries the young boy from your arms and Dick groans quietly. You and Alfred walk quickly to the medical room where Alfred lays him down on the cot. Dick groans quietly again and you feel the guilt from leaving him with Joker while you dealt with Harley eat away at your insides once again, making you feel like you're slowly being tortured by the Joker as well.

"It's all my fault, Alfred." you say very quietly. You remove the cowl, instantly becoming Bruce Wayne.

"What do you mean, Master Bruce?" Alfred says, not looking up from his work of bandaging Dick's arms.

"I left him alone with Joker and I shouldn't have. I should have been there with him instead of fighting Harley." you say miserably.

"It's not your fault. You did what you thought was right." Alfred's calm tone somewhat soothes you and you try to calm your racing heart. You can't help but worry about Dick.

"Then why do I feel like it is my fault, Alfred?"

"I can't say that I know the answer to that, sir."

"It's not your fault, Bruce." a quiet voice said. You look up at Dick. He has taken off his domino mask and now his deep sapphire eyes are looking right at you. "Please don't blame yourself. I-It was m-my fault that you got sidetracked with Harley."

You quickly stand and are next to Dick in a second. You lightly run a hand through his ebony hair. "Dick, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have left you alone with Joker."

"Bruce, I-I thought I could take him. It wasn't your fault." the young boy insists. He groans quietly once more.

"Dickie," you say, using the nickname that you haven't used in a couple of years. "What's wrong?"

"My head hurts." His face is twisted into a pained expression that tugs violently at your heartstrings. It is twisted into a pained expression that makes you want to pick him up and hold him and never let him go again.

You look at Alfred. "You should get some sleep, Alfred. Who knows how long you've been awake."

He nods his head. "You should do the same, sir, if not now then soon." He walks out of the room and you listen to his footsteps echo loudly down the large hallways of the manor until you hear his bedroom door click shut, and then you look back at Dick.

"Dick, I am so sorry." you say quietly. "If I had known that you would have been left with Joker alone, I wouldn't have taken you out on patrol with me tonight. You probably shouldn't go out on patrol for a few days."

"But that's my favorite time of the day." he said.

You look at him, slightly confused. "What is?"

"Going out on patrol with you. That's my favorite time of the day because I get to help people. I get to be just like you for a little while; being a superhero, saving lives, helping out innocent people, keeping Gotham from being corrupted and destroyed." His blue eyes search your own dark ones. "I love that. I feel like I'm getting to know Batman better as well as Bruce Wayne."

You're quiet for a moment, thinking, going over his words in your head. I get to be just like you for a little while . . . you had never intended Dick to become Robin. You hadn't ever intended on telling him that you were Batman, either. You were planning on never telling him. Every chance he got, he would tell you about the newest adventure of Gotham's Dark Knight that he had heard from one of his classmates. He loved telling you about Batman's dangerous adventures to save Gotham from being destroyed and corrupted by crime. And you loved hearing them, even though you, being Batman, had already experienced them. You loved seeing the facial expressions he used when he would tell a story, the wild hand gestures he would use to emphasize something. When he finally found out that you were Batman after seeing you come in after patrol one night, all he did for the next few days was yell, "COOL! MY DAD'S BATMAN!" and gush about how it was 'so cool that his dad was Batman, Gotham's own Dark Knight, their protector and guardian, their friend and helper.' Of course, you had to make him swear that he would never tell a living soul that Bruce Wayne was secretly Batman. Of course, he asked many questions just like any curious kid: "Does Alfred know you're Batman?" "Of course he knows. He's the only one besides me who knows where the Batcave is." "Where is the Batcave?" "Underneath the manor." "Why do you have to keep it a secret that you're Batman, Bruce?" "That way people who are out for revenge against Batman can't take their revenge out on Bruce Wayne." "Why did you become Batman?" It had taken a moment for you to think of an answer for that one. "Well, I wanted to bring the man who murdered my parents to justice."

"Bruce?" Dick's small voice snaps you back to reality.

"Yeah, Dickie?" you say quietly.

"C-Can you take me upstairs to my room, please?" Something in his voice makes your heart twist, something that once again makes you want to pick up this young boy and hold him close and never let him go ever again.

Somehow you are able to manage a small smile. "Sure thing, kiddo." You gently pick him up and walk out of the room. You walk down to his room, which you easily spot-it's got the only door that is painted bright yellow with a black circle in the middle and a black 'R' in the circle. You look down at the boy in your arms and notice that he's fallen asleep. His face is more relaxed than it has been all evening and you're happy that he can sleep peacefully for right now. You walk into his room and change him out of his Robin costume into pajamas then you place him among his Batman covers. You can't help but laugh quietly at them. Batman-themed covers were definitely NOT your first choice for the young boy's bed. He had been the one to pick them out. Of course, this had also happened before Dick even knew that you were Batman. You're just thankful that he hadn't chosen Superman covers. If he had and Clark or any of the other Leaguers found out, you wouldn't live it down. Ever.

You once again look at Dick and then go to your own dark room. You change into pajamas and lay in your bed for what seems like hours but in reality has only been thirty minutes, thinking about things. Thinking about Dick and Alfred and the other members of the Justice League. You try not to feel guilty about unintentionally leaving Dick with Joker but the memory and guilt just keep shoving their way up to the front of your brain.

Right when you are starting to drift off from reality into sleep, you hear your door creak open a bit. In the dim light spilling into the room, you make out the dark silhouette of a small child. It takes you a moment to realize that the child is Dick. It takes another moment for you to realize that he is crying. You sit up. He is crying very quietly and it's obvious that he's trying to hide it and you know that it's because he thinks you'll tell him not to show emotion. As Batman and Robin, you're not allowed to show emotion. To show emotion in front of a foe is unknowingly surrendering-showing emotion means utter and certain death. But as Bruce and Dick, you can show emotion in front of each other-that's usually when Dick lets out of all his bottled up emotions, like tonight. Right now, you are not Batman, the man who cannot show any emotion whatsoever, the man who ruthlessly fights crime and protects the city with Robin, the Boy Wonder. No, right now, you are Bruce Wayne, the man who took in a circus-raised boy who had just lost his parents in a horrible accident, the man who comforts Dick whenever he has a nightmare or helps him with a problem that he can't solve on his own.

"B-Bruce, c-can I sleep w-with you t-tonight?" the young boy asks through his tears. You nod and he comes running to your bed, jumping onto it and quickly getting under the blanket next to you. You think, He could compete with Flash if he wanted to. He'd probably beat him too. You can't help but smile a little bit when you feel his small arms wrap around you and his face press into your chest.

"What's wrong, Dickie?" you ask quietly.

"De ce au trebuit să mă lași? De ce au trebuit să mă lași singur? De ce nu au putut să stai? Eu nu am fost destul de bun?" he asks in rapid Romanian. (1)

Of course, you had to learn Romanian since Dick hadn't known much English at first so you understand what he says. Once again, your heart tightens at what he just asks.

"Să nu credeți vreodată că nu ești suficient de bun, Dick." you say gently. "Nu a fost vina ta că acest lucru sa întâmplat." (2)

"W-Why did th-they have t-to leave me, though?" he asks again,

"Who?"

"M-My parents. Why did they h-have to leave me, Bruce?" A sinking feeling makes camp in your stomach.

You're silent for a moment. "I don't know." you say finally.

Dick buries his face further into your chest. "You won't leave me, right Bruce?" you hear him mumble into your shirt.

You run a hand through his dark hair. "I won't leave you, Dick." you say quietly. "Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

"Good." He looks up at you and you wipe away a few stray tears on his face. You stick your tongue out at him, making him giggle a little bit. His face disappears back into your shirt. "Te iubesc, Tati." you hear him mumble. "Te rog nu pleca niciodată departe" (3)

You're surprised a little. You can't recall him ever calling you Daddy in any language before now. "I love you too, son." Dick is quiet and you notice that his grip on you has slightly loosened. "Good night Dickie." Finally, you're able to fall asleep fairly quickly, with your arms around your young son. You can sleep peacefully right now knowing that, for tonight, you can protect him while he sleeps.

(1) "Why did they have to leave me? Why did they have to leave me all alone? Why couldn't they just stay? Was I not good enough?"

(2) "Don't ever think that you aren't good enough, Dick. It was not your fault that this happened."

(3) "I love you, Daddy. Please don't ever go away."

Second chapter is coming soon!

P.S. Please forgive me if I translated any of this wrong, I used Google Translate which was the best thing that I could find at the moment.