Barbara knows that there's something Dick isn't telling her. She's known it from the moment they'd first met. But it's been almost two weeks since she'd heard from Dick, and when she'd asked the teachers where her friend was, they'd all said the same thing:

"I'm afraid Mr. Wayne took Richard out of school until he recovers fully from the flu."

Alarm bells ring in her ears after she hears it for the first time, because she knows Dick, and she knows that he wouldn't just up and disappear on her without at least having Alfred call her if he couldn't call himself. Barbara needs to get to the bottom of this. Fast.

Which is how she finds herself here, climbing up the old brick of Wayne Manor, up and up until she reaches Dick's bedroom window. She looks through the glass, huffing when she sees Dick reading a book, looking perfectly healthy and definitely not sick with the flu.

She taps on the glass.

Dick startles, book slipping through his fingertips to land on the bed, and his wide, blue eyes meet her green through the window. When he does nothing but stare at her for a few moments, Barbara rolls her eyes and taps on the glass again.

That seems to spur him into action, because he scrambles out of his bed and opens up the window for her. She promptly climbs in.

"What are you doing here?" he whispers, but he sounds—scared.

It's odd, and Barbara can't help but tilt her head in confusion at his tone. He sounds like he doesn't want her here, which is complete bull because usually he can't go two days without company from someone other than Bruce and Alfred, and it's been two weeks. Dick should have been going stir crazy by now.

Barbara puts her hands on her hips, blowing out an exasperated breath. "I just climbed up a mansion for you, and the first thing you say to me is 'what are you doing here?' Classy, Grayson."

Dick doesn't fall for it, though. His eyes are still wide and scared, and he looks like—Barbara swallows, her hands falling to her sides as she actually takes him in.

He's pale and washed-out, and there are dark shadows underneath his eyes. His eyes never leave hers, but he stands still. Stiller than she's ever seen him. And the way he's looking at her. It's not unlike the way Barbara's seen a few of the kids her dad's taken from abusive homes. There's a hardness there that is so telling of the situation. A wall to keep everyone out, so nobody can see the pain endured.

It terrifies her that Dick looks ten times worse than any of those other kids she's seen, so Barbara grabs Dick's hand and says seriously, "Talk to me, Dick. Don't shut me out."

"You're not gonna get it," Dick tells her, blinking rapidly, like he's trying to block something out. "You're—not even Bruce gets it."

Barbara wants to push. Really push. But Dick looks like he'll break down if she tries, and that's not her goal here. Her goal has just been to make sure that Dick is okay, and if Dick isn't okay, then she can try to fix it, right?

"Okay," Barbara says. "The teacher said you're sick. Are you sick?"

Dick shakes his head. "No."

"Then let's play a game."

"A game?" Dick looks sort of dumb-founded, and Barbara finds herself rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, dummy."

She takes Dick's hand, ignoring the slight flinch, and tugs him to the bedroom door, out into the hall, down the stairs, and into the den, where the board games are stashed. She's sure that Alfred and Bruce both know she's here, already—she's come in through the window before, and wasn't that the shock of her life—so she's not so bothered by anybody finding her and telling her to leave. It would have already happened by now if they were bothered.

"Monopoly, LIFE, or checkers?" Barbara asks, eyeing the games on the shelf. "Or are you in a chess mood?"

Dick's still kind of blinking at her, but he looks more starstruck than confused, so Barbara nudges him.

"Oh!" Dick exclaims, turning his attention to the game shelf. "Uh, let's just play checkers?"

Barbara shrugs. "Prepare to lose."

Normally, Barbara would hear an indignant yell from Dick "Competitive" Grayson about how Barbara was not going to beat him, even though she most certainly would based off their track record, but all she gets is a grimace.

Barbara pulls out the checkers board and they play.

It's boring.

Dick doesn't talk much—he doesn't move much, either, and a lot of his time is spent staring into space. Barbara doesn't like it one bit.

"You know what you need?" Barbara finally speaks up after a long moment of silence. Dick's lost half of his pieces, and he doesn't even seem to care, and it's making Barbara's win feel pathetic, and the game really isn't fun.

"Do I need something?" Dick wonders, looking up from the board.

Barbara huffs out an exasperated breath. "Yeah, you need to come back to school. But, I think an outing would be good, too."

"An outing?"

Barbara sighs, because Dick really needs to stop looking at her with those wide blue eyes, like he's got no idea what's going on. He's so obviously off, and Barbara thinks that a walk to their favorite ice cream place would be perfect.

"Yep," Barbara says, jumping to her feet. Dick follows slowly, cautiously. "Ice cream. On me."

Dick cringes. "I don't think Bruce is gonna let me go."

"Then don't tell him." That's what Barbara does with her dad. It's practically a policy for stuff like this now, since he's usually so busy at the precinct.

"Bruce is gonna know whether I tell him or not."

That gives Barbara some pause. "Hm. I guess you're right. Mr. Wayne is probably a lot smarter than he makes himself look."

Dick gives her an odd look. Lets out a small, steadying breath. "Um. Right. Plus, all of the security stuff."

"Is he home?" Barbara wonders.

"No, but Alfred is. And the moment I disappear, Alfie's gonna call Bruce and tell on me, and then come pick me up. Or pick me up himself. I don't know which one would be worse. And then Bruce isn't going to let me go—"

Dick falls silent. It almost seems like he's literally biting his tongue in frustration, and Barbara doesn't know exactly what he's hiding—maybe it has to do with why he's so off, or maybe it's whatever secret he's been keeping since before this incident that Barbara's never pushed at—but she knows now's probably not the best time to push at any walls, no matter how shaky they are.

"Well," Barbara says, staring at the doorway to the den. "We can always ask."

"No need," Alfred says from the doorway, and at his voice, Dick tenses. "I would be glad to personally escort the two of you to the ice cream parlor. And the park afterwards?"

Barbara lights up. "Oh, that would be fun! Right, Dick?"

Dick turns slowly, giving Alfred a perplexed look. "Really? But, I thought…?"

Alfred smiles slightly. "You've been cooped up far too long for a boy your age," the butler says. "I'm sure Master Bruce wouldn't mind you spending a few hours with a friend. Do you want to go?"

Dick looks at Barbara, back to Alfred, back to Barbara, and then back to Alfred, and Barbara's kind of ready to smack him upside the head.

"Yeah," he finally says, a small smile lighting up his face. With a start, Barbara realizes that it's the first smile she's seen on his face since she got here. "Yeah, I wanna go."