Bruce arrived home from work late, already crabby about work meetings, obstinate trade partners, and the like. He was looking forward to a hot meal and some time with Dick before he went on patrol and beat out his stress on the scum of the streets.

But when he entered the house, there was no pitter-patter of little feet running down the stairs as Dick was apt to do when Bruce arrived home from work. In fact, the whole house was silent, just as it was before he brought a child into it.

With impeccable timing, Alfred appeared around the corner to take his coat and briefcase. "How was your day at work, Master Wayne?" The butler opened the coat closet and began hanging Bruce's large overcoat neatly on a hanger.

His face appeared the polite mask it always was, but Bruce could see a slight glimmer of concern in Alfred's eyes.

"It was fine, Alfred. Where's Dick?"

"His room, sir." The butler pursed his lips, his expression now showing alarming signs of anger. "There was an incident at school today."

Now Bruce was thoroughly confused.

"What happened? Did he get in a fight?" he asked, though Bruce couldn't imagine Dick ever getting in a fight with anyone outside of his Robin costume. It just wasn't in his nature.

"No, but I do believe you have some parenting to do tonight. A test of your skills as a father, if you will."

With that last hint, Alfred closed the door of the coat closet and disappeared back into the kitchen.

A little alarmed, Bruce walked quickly up the mansion stairs into the hallway that held Dick's bedroom. As he neared the door, he heard small, muffled sobs coming from inside.

Quickly opening the door, he discovered a quietly crying Dick sprawled on his bed with his head shoved into the comforter. The king sized bed dwarfed the boy, and he looked so very small in comparison. The dark-haired head shot up when he found he'd been discovered, and Dick quickly wiped the sleeves of his shirt on his face to hide the evidence.

"Hi Bruce!" he exclaimed, his croaky, stuffed-up voice betraying his upbeat greeting.

Bruce took three strides to get from the door to the bed, then sat down next to Dick. His large frame caused a dip in the mattress, to which Dick immediately used to snuggle in close.

"What's wrong chum?"

Dick felt a hand slowly rubbing circles on his back, and he nestled his head on Bruce's side. "Why does everyone hate me?" he asked quietly, the tears threatening to flow again.

"What?" Bruce almost laughed in astonishment at his ward's question. "Dick that's absurd, no one hates you." Dick was the happiest child Bruce had ever met, charming the socks off of everyone he so much as said hello to. The boy's light was infectious; it even got through to a dark brooding Bat that never believed he would love or be loved ever again.

That was the wrong thing to say.

Tears came streaming down the boy's face once again, this time even more vigorous than before. "Yes-" he hiccupped, "-yes they do, I know so." Dick was breathing so fast, he was close to hyperventilating. "I just don't know why!" The sobs came in earnest after that declaration and his small hands clutched at Bruce's collared shirt.

"Buddy," Bruce soothed, continuing the circles on the boy's back. "I need you to calm down and breathe slowly. Do you think you can do that for me?" He leaned his head down and tilted Dick's up to meet his eyes. "Hey. You're ok. Everything is ok. I need you to breathe."

Dick nodded and, in between hiccups, started to breathe slower.

"In and out," Bruce motioned, "in and out."

Within a few moments, the episode was over and Dick was breathing normally again, albeit a little light-headed.

Once Dick seemed to catch his breath, Bruce slid off the bed onto his knees, to look his ward directly in the eyes. "What happened today?" he asked, his eyes leaving no room for escape.

Dick huffed a small sigh. "I overheard Bobby saying mean things about me," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Like really mean things. But he's always nice to me so I don't know why he would say mean things." A small hiccup escaped again, but Dick managed to control the tears. "And if Bobby hates me then lots of other people have gotta hate me too." Dick looked up at Bruce, his wet face shining in the light. "If I don't know why, then I don't know how to make it better. I just want everyone to be nice and happy."

"Hey," Bruce brushed a few stray hairs out of the boy's face. "There are plenty of people who love you so much; Alfred, Leslie, and I included. Bobby saying those things is a reflection of his character, not yours.

"You don't need to fix anything about yourself, chum," Bruce said firmly, placing both hands on Dick's knees, "other than letting yourself get upset up over a bully's opinion. You are more than people's perceptions of you, myself included. But," Bruce added, "I think you're a great kid, and anyone who doesn't see that is an idiot."

Dick's eyes widened at that declaration. 'Idiot' was one of Alfred's bad words that he wasn't supposed to say.

"Dick, there are going to be people in this world who don't like you." Bruce continued. "No single person on this planet will be liked by everyone they meet. But do those people know you, who you really are?"

Dick shook his head slowly, not positive about the correct answer.

"No," Bruce said softly, "they don't. They'll never know what's in here." He poked Dick's chest, provoking a small giggle from the child. "You keep living your life the way you do chum, with light and happiness and love. Don't let a bully or two ever let you change that."

Dick dragged a damp sleeve across his face, sniffed, then dove at Bruce for a hug. His little arms could barely reach around Bruce's back, but they held on as tightly as they could. "Thanks Dad," could barely be heard beneath the layers of fabric, but Bruce caught them.

He hugged Dick gently back. "You're welcome son."

So I found out today that a girl I thought liked me said that I "sucked as a person." I had a similar episode to Dick's, and I wrote this piece from Bruce's perspective because I needed someone to tell me what he told Dick in this fic. I'm fine now, it's just hard to remember that people's perceptions and perspectives of you are not everything. You are your own person; they don't know you, not really. Who cares if they like you? Their opinion of you means hardly anything, but your opinion of yourself means everything. It was well overdue for me to do a bit of self-reflection, and as the new year approaches, I'm pledging to remember that no one can truly judge my heart but me. And maybe that big dude in the sky. YOU ARE AWESOME! I LOVE YOU! KEEP ROCKIN! 3 Emily