I'm going to Ecuador this summer, so for the past couple months I've been getting a veritable battery of vaccines. Being one of perhaps five people in the world that actually reads all the materials included with the vaccines, the inspiration for this story came from those.

Bruce entered the foyer and handed his coat to Alfred just in time to hear the tinkling shatter of what could only have been a priceless and irreplaceable glass work of art meeting its untimely demise on the second floor near the grand staircase of Wayne Manor.

Alfred looked towards the source of the noise, quirked his eyebrow and looked back at Bruce. The billionaire, newly arrived at home from a particularly harrowing Thursday at work which involved no less than three employee reprimands; two teleconferences with partner firms in Japan and Germany; a meeting with the Board of Directors to discuss the final details of the San Francisco merger; and a Gotham Gazette interview to publicize the Wayne Foundation's new plans to build a free childrens' hospital downtown, gave a sigh that was a subtle mixture of both exhaustion and frustration.

"Dick! Was that you?"

A young boy with jet-black hair, wide blue eyes and a sheepish look peered over the banister to look at the entryway. "Uh…would you believe me if I said no?"

Bruce walked to the foot of the stairs and placed his hand on the banister as he stared up at the boy. "That was the vase, right? My great-grandmother's Victorian vase, the one that I warned you about last time you were caught doing handsprings up there? That is what you were just doing, wasn't it?"

"Um…I'm really, really sorry Bruce. You can totally take my allowance for like, the next three centuries!" Dick begged as he rushed down the stairs to meet his guardian.

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he stared down at the boy whose face betrayed nervousness for fear of retribution. True, he always did think that vase was among the Manor's uglier décor, and there was certainly no attachment to it on his part. But ugly or not, the vase was still an heirloom—much like almost everything else in the house—of a prominent ancestor, and Bruce had already warned Dick once. At this point, he knew the rule and blatantly decided to break it. He shook his head. "Go get the broom and clean it up. You're on kitchen duty for the next week after we get back from our trip, and if that kitchen isn't spotless while you're in charge of it then consider yourself grounded indefinitely. Are we clear?"

Dick nodded quickly, relief flashing through his body. "Yeah, crystal! I'll go get the broom!" And with that, he bounded off the stairs and towards the kitchen.

Bruce sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose as Alfred approached him. "What's gotten in to him? I thought Dick was more careful than this."

"He is a child, Master Bruce, and by nature children are prone to boughts of carelessness. At any rate, a boy with his usual activity levels could no doubt have issues adjusting to the current options for activity that he has."

Bruce nodded. Of course, Alfred was right. Dick had been accustomed to rigorous trapeze and acrobatic training by day and demanding performances by night, along with a host of other circus activities, since age three. By all accounts, the one constant in the boy's life had been movement. His current living situation must have felt to him like being morphed from a bird into a statue overnight.

To his credit, Bruce had been trying almost since Dick's first day at the Manor to remedy this effect. At first, he had found the boy's constant movement and apparent inability to remain in one spot for more than a couple minutes at most to be overwhelming, maybe even a little annoying at times. But over a short amount of time, Bruce started to find the habit endearing…well, cute even. When he came home from work, Dick was often carefully nestled away in a tree above the garage entrance, ready to jump on the expensive car's hood as it waited for the door to open. When he worked on cases in the cave, Dick frequently followed him to play on the rudimentary gymnastics equipment in the training area, performing ever more complicated moves in an attempt to steal some of Bruce's attention from his work. When he was sequestered in his study, it was not unusual to find Dick sneaking in to some precarious nook or cranny to read his book or play his video game while Bruce worked.

In almost anyone else, Bruce would have found this blatant violation of his policy of total privacy when outside of the public eye to be unacceptable. But this kid was…effervescent. He had a light to him. Every scowl, frown and growl that Bruce shot his way, he soaked in and morphed into fuel for more light. How could a dark knight fare well against such a formidable opponent? Bruce realized his defeat when it became clear to him that he enjoyed his time at home significantly less when Dick was not around. Hell, he had even begun resorting to looking for Dick when he was not immediately present.

Alfred's discreet throat clearing interrupted Bruce's thoughts. "Sir, perhaps it is prudent now to remind you that Dr. Thompkins will be arriving at the airport in one hour. If I am to fulfill my promise of meeting her there before our flight, then we had best leave soon."

"Where are you going, Alfie?" Dick returned from the kitchen with a broom and dustpan in his hands.

Bruce answered for the butler. "Alfred and Leslie are leaving for San Francisco this afternoon. You and I will be going tomorrow since I can't miss work and you can't miss school."

Dick cocked his head to the side. "How come Alfred can't just come with us tomorrow?"

"Dr. Thompkins' cousin lives in San Francisco. Due to Ms. Thompkins' demanding work schedule, the largest amount of time she has to see Dr. Thompkins this weekend is tonight. I offered to accompany Dr. Thompkins to San Francisco this afternoon so that she would not be forced to navigate a new city without a companion."

Dick winkled his nose. "Leslie doesn't seem like the kind of person who doesn't like doing stuff alone."

Bruce chuckled as Alfred responded. "Quite an astute observation, Master Dick. However, departing today also permits me to spend the entirety of tomorrow as well as Saturday to work with the catering staff there to plan and execute the gala to celebrate the merger between Titan Tech and Wayne Industries. It is quite an important event, and one in which I hope to see exemplary behavior from you for its duration."

Dick giggled. "Aw, come on Alfie, when do I ever misbehave? Well, except for the whole vase thing…"

"And the puppy." Bruce interjected suddenly. "And the games you downloaded onto the Bat Computer. And that last inappropriate use of your training on the school bullies. And—"

"—I have no doubt that you will behave appropriately, Master Dick, as you usually do. If you would both excuse me now, I have a few more items left to pack. Master Bruce, may we leave in fifteen minutes?"

"Sure, Alfred." And with that, the butler made his way up the stairs. Bruce looked down at Dick and gave him a grin that barely masked his apprehension. "Looks like it's just you and me for the night, chum. Got any ideas for dinner? We could try to make something…"

The look that flashed through Dick's eyes then vaguely reminded Bruce of a panicked cat. "Uh, no offense Bruce, but you're not the greatest cook…maybe we can go out and get something to eat? Like at Sultan of Pizza?" He finished hopefully.

"An excellent idea, Master Dick." Alfred appeared on the second floor handrail and stared down at them. "I considered making dinner for you both before departing, but thought better of it upon recalling that the young master has been asking to go to that restaurant for weeks. Master Bruce, I'm sure you can take time out of your busy schedule to fulfill Master Dick's simple wish, can you not?" The butler turned a critical eye towards the billionaire and carefully emphasized his words with a harshness that alerted Bruce of the heavy magnitude of the cold shoulder he would receive from Alfred were he to choose the incorrect response.

"Uh, yeah chum. Definitely we can go there. We'll get any toppings you want." A small smile escaped Bruce's lips as he saw the joy in Dick nearly lifting him off the ground.

"Aw yeah! Pineapple and anchovies! With hot sauce!" And with that, the boy bounded up the stairs with the broom.

Great. Bruce groaned inwardly. Looks like it's a Pepto Bismol kind of night…A ring of Bruce's cell phone interrupted his thoughts again. Hastily he answered it, noting that his caller ID indicated that the number was local. "Hello, this is Bruce Wayne."

A cool female voice answered him. "Hello Mr. Wayne, this is Jean from the Gotham Academy speaking."

"Hello Jean, what can I do for you today?" He responded pleasantly. But underneath his masked voice, suspicion had already begun to set in.

"It's concerning your child Richard. As you know, when we admitted him to the Academy back in September, he was a child with rather…special circumstances, having recently come from an unfortunately deceased transitory family that homeschooled him. Since he had just faced a rather brutal tragedy and preliminary searches of his parents' belongings did not turn up any of his educational and medical records, the Academy was willing to temporarily exempt him from our required record submissions prior to his entry into our school in the interest of letting him start the school year with his classmates."

"Yes," Bruce added, his pleasantries quickly deteriorating from his voice. "Please go on."

"Well, it appears that Mr. Pennyworth was finally able to find Richard's considerably short medical records among the Graysons' belongings recently. He faxed them over to us a few days ago. Mr. Wayne, it appears that the boy has never had an inoculation in his life."

"Yes, well, the Graysons moved around quite a bit. They didn't really have a family doctor, I'd imagine." Or the money for a doctor more than was absolutely necessary, but she doesn't need to know that, Bruce thought. "Other than the fact that he's missing out on the immunization benefits, is there a problem with this?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne, unfortunately there is. Our state requires that all children receive the DTaP, MMR, polio, varicella, and Hepatitis B vaccines before starting school, and our school additionally mandates that all children receive the Hepatitis A vaccine. Richard has had none of these."

"I see…Dick has to get these inoculations to continue going to Gotham Academy?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Unless, of course, he is eligible for a health or religious exemption. Does he have either of those?"

"No, he doesn't. And regardless of state and school requirements, I think he should have all those vaccinations anyway so he stays healthy. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Jean. I was unaware until now that this was the case with Dick's medical history."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne. Richard can continue going to school as he's completing all his doses for the vaccines. We just need you or Mr. Pennyworth to have the doctor's office fax a notice of completion for each of the vaccines. And we'd preferably like to start seeing those notices as soon as possible."

"Alright. We'll get started on those as soon as possible, then, and keep the school informed. Thank you Jean, have a nice day." He hung up the phone and looked up to see Dick huddled between two banisters, peering at him with wide, curious blue eyes.

"What was that about, Bruce? Something about me and my family?"

"'My family and I,' Dick." He corrected tiredly. "And yes. Apparently, you aren't up to date on your vaccinations. Do you remember your parents ever taking you to the doctor to get shots?"

"Um…no, I never went to the doctor much. The only time I can remember is when I hurt my wrist when we were practicing and my dad took me to something he called a free clinic and the doctor put a brace on it. Do…do I have to…get shots? I've never had one before…"

Bruce heard the fear in the boy's voice and felt that same bizarre pang of pain in his heart that had a strange habit of showing up only when Dick appeared to be under duress. The surge of protectiveness for the boy welled up inside him every time a frown darkened that impish face. This time was no different. Silently he cursed the institution that insisted on putting his boy through a battery of doctor visits and the natural fear and pain that children associated needles with. However, if Dick was serious about becoming Robin, then he would be exposed nightly to the seedy underbelly of Gotham—which was, among other things, a frequent harbinger of disease. Having vaccine protection could only help the boy, and keep him focused on the more immediate dangers—like the guns. At any rate, even if he had no intention of becoming a costumed vigilante, not having Dick get his vaccinations only sent the boy the message that it was okay to avoid doing things necessary for his health and well-being just because he didn't want to do them. And there was no way Bruce would allow that. That boy was going to live a long and healthy life, dammit. Comfortably longer than Bruce's, to avoid any chance of…well…

"It's okay Dick, they aren't that bad. I've had lots of them before. It's just a little prick and you're done. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah, I guess…when do I have to start?"

"Let's find out." Bruce pulled out his cell phone again and dialed Leslie's cell number. "Hello Leslie…yes, we're leaving for the airport in a few minutes…I just got a call from Dick's school saying that he hasn't had any of the required vaccines and that we need to get started on those immediately. I know that some of them have multiple doses…take him by the clinic today? Alright, we'll do that after I drop off Alfred. Thanks Leslie."

He hung up the phone again and looked at Dick. "Leslie says to stop by her clinic today and the nurse can get you started on your vaccines. We'll stop by after the airport, so hurry on cleaning up the mess up there. We need to get going."

"Excellent, Master Bruce." Alfred called out drolly as he made his way down the stairs with his bags. "I was beginning to think that the only way I'd ever get out of here was if I called the airline and requested the plane perform a porch-side pick-up!"

To say that Bruce was a bit frazzled under his cool exterior was an understatement. Coming in to the airport, they'd hit stop-and-go traffic, and the car behind him went when she should have stopped. The result was a fender bender on Bruce's Mercedes and a woman sobbing and begging him not to make her pay for it. Five minutes later, after having miraculously circumnavigated the traffic, Dick's new Superman comic flew suddenly out of the open window, resulting in an additional three minutes of him begging Bruce to turn around and go back for it. After Bruce had finally succeeded at convincing (forcing) Dick to accept that the comic was gone for good, he noticed red and blue lights flashing in his rear-view mirror. After a $150 speeding ticket, they finally arrived at the airport only to compete with a host of other cars trying to load and unload passengers and luggage. Finally, after prying Dick away from the airport's bookstore in his desperate attempt to find a replacement Superman comic, Bruce managed to wish Alfred a safe flight and get back on the road.

No sooner had he left the airport's drive that his cell phone began ringing incessantly. First it was from San Francisco: a few surprise executive decisions left to be made. He hurriedly ended that conversation to take the call from the head of the R&D department, who reported a glitch found in the new military combat training cyber-simulations. No sooner had he hung up from that call that his phone blew up again with Lucius Fox in the caller ID.

"Lucius." Bruce answered as he sped through downtown Gotham towards Leslie's clinic. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello, Bruce. Some last minute paperwork came in for the merger that can't be sent back to Titan Tech without your signature. We're trying to get this done as quickly as possible, these new additions being last minute and all. Would you be willing to swing by the office and sign them?"

Bruce sighed. "Is this going to take a while?"

"Unfortunately, it might."

Bruce glanced sideways at Dick. "Alright, that's just the way it will have to be. I'll just have to order in takeout for Dick. He's with me right now."

Dick's head snapped around in attention as he looked at Bruce. "Takeout? But I thought we were going to Sultan of Pizza!"

"I'm sorry Dick but I can't do that anymore, something's come up back at the office. Lucius, just have the papers out on my desk—"

"Bruce! You told me and Alfred that we could go to Sultan of Pizza tonight!"

The final tie to Bruce's patience snapped. Without warning, he wrenched the car wheel to the right and ignored the offended drivers blasting their horns as he crossed through three lanes of traffic to the closest empty spot on the side of the road. He threw the car in park and whirled around to face Dick.

"Listen to me and stop your whining. I'm an adult, and sometimes adults have to do boring things instead of fun things but we don't complain because we're responsible. And I know you don't like that because you'd rather go off and have fun like the world is some big game but it isn't so tough shit. And whether you want to or not, you need to face the fact that you're growing up and this is the reality you need to get used to, because I have news for you Dick, we don't always get what we want. And screaming and beating your fists isn't going to change a damn thing! Do you UNDERSTAND?!"

Dick's eyes had widened slowly as Bruce was talking. He instinctively flattened himself against the car door, as far away from Bruce's imposing form as possible. "Y-yessir. I understand."

"I offered you an acceptable solution, didn't I? I said we could do takeout. Hell, we could even order pizza from that same restaurant you want to go to! Why is that not good enough for you?!"

"…Because…"

"Because why, Dick?"

"Because…it's just…"

"Just say it! Why is this so important for you?!"

"Because I wanted to spend time with you." Dick's eyes grew shiny with tears as his lower lip trembled. A single tear escaped his eye as the rest of his body began to shake slightly. "You've been so busy the last couple weeks…" His breath hitched as he looked into the window and away from Bruce, light reflecting from his wet and reddening eyes.

The billionaire froze. He felt his heart creeping into his throat. His mouth remained slightly agape, but the words that he was intending to say next were slain in his throat by Dick's simple statement. As he reached his hand up to brush it through his hair exasperatedly, he felt his face going hot with what could only have been described as shame. Making an extreme and failing effort to hide his wincing as the boy began to sniffle, he turned away from Dick and put the car in drive. "I'm sorry Dick. That's just going to have to be another time." He mumbled in a deep, throaty voice. Their car rejoined the traffic moving towards Leslie's clinic. Bruce's face became impassive, but the look hid a barrage beneath.

I'm such a bastard, Bruce thought. He said he wanted to spend time with me—God knows why—and that's what I tell him? I'm sorry? He's nine years old for chissakes! He's already been through more than most adults go through in their lifetimes. Why in the hell did I feel it was necessary to give him another reminder of how shitty life can be? Bruce berated himself mentally.

He looked back over to Dick in the passenger's seat. Bruce felt his stomach revolt slightly when he saw that the child had stiffened his lip and wiped his eyes, but the red, shiny sheen remained in them as he stared lifelessly out the window.

No wonder everyone doubted me when I said I wanted to take a kid in. I'm the worst person on the face of the planet for a parenting job and everyone can see it, even Dick, Bruce brooded.

The rest of the drive was completed in silence, the miserable atmosphere of the car punctuated only by the outside sounds of an occasional car honk and the rumble of the Mercedes' engine.