I'm trying my hand at writing Daddybats. This is my first time writing Batman and Robin, so please cut me a little slack. I'll do my best. Okay? Okay! Let's get on with the show.

I don't own Robin, Alfred, or Batman. (Trust me. I wish Robin was mine. *sigh*)

Snooping: To investigate or look around furtively in an attempt to find out something, especially information about someone's private affairs.

The dictionary definition of the word popped into Dick's-Or rather, Robin's. He felt more comfortable being mischievous in costume.-mind as he surfed the Batcave's computer archives. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for. He only knew that the entire Young Justice Team had gotten the day off, it was raining outside, and Bruce had ordered him to stay in the mansion to reduce risk of getting a cold.

You get a deathly case of pneumonia one time...

So far, his findings had him underwhelmed. Seriously, he wasn't even whelmed! In fact, he hadn't been whelmed all day. That was saying something.

All he'd found were criminal records of various bad guys, and stakeout locations from the past week. Why didn't Bruce have any juicy files? He was the Batman, for flight's sake!

Robin was just about to give up when two simple words caught his eye.

Grayson, Richard

His eyes widened behind his mask and he rapidly clicked the Open File option. He viewed the most recent data and found that it was simply his logged hours in the Mt. Justice training exercises.

Boring. Even I can't make myself get whelmed.

Robin continued to scroll through his file until he found the oldest entry. He scanned it with disinterest (heavy on the 'dis') until he saw the ticket.

7/4/2006 Haly's Circus: Seat #2E

Dick took his mask off as his jaw dropped. Bruce Wayne. No, scratch that. Batman had been at the Circus the day his parents had died. Dick thought that Batman had simply investigated the scene after it had happened! Why hadn't he been told this? Why...

Then, that means...Bruce just sat there and watched my parents...Why didn't he save them?

Suddenly, Dick felt a rush of anger wash over him and he shot to his feet, storming through the clock that was the secret entrance to the Batcave.

"Master Richard, I didn't realize you were-"

"Alfred, where's Bruce?" Dick demanded.

"I believe he's in his study. Why-"

The boy didn't bother to listen as he strode from the room as fast as his embarrassingly short (at least to him) legs could carry him.

Upon arriving at Bruce's study, Dick pounded the door with his fist. To heck with manners.

Bruce looked up from his paperwork without a hint of surprise. He'd heard his ward coming from a mile away. That could only mean one thing. Robin was mad about something.

"Come in."

The boy barreled through the door, his bright blue eyes dark with rage. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Bruce asked with genuine confusion.

"Ai fost acolo!" Dick shouted in Romanian, his native language. ("You were there!")

Bruce frowned. Dick only ever slipped into Romanian when he was upset about something. "English," he reprimanded. "What do you mean?"

"Ai fost acolo când părinții mei au murit!" ("You were there when my parents died!")

This time, Bruce didn't bother correcting the use of a different language.

Instead of feeling shocked like he probably should have, he only felt dread. He'd feared this moment would come. Why had he thought he'd be able to keep this a secret from his adopted son?

"I'm sorry, Dick," Bruce said quietly. "There was nothing I could do."

"Nothing you could do?!" the boy all but shrieked, reverting back to English as if by habit. "Nothing you could do?! I was an eight-year-old watching my parents fall to their deaths! You were Batman sitting in the crowd! Why didn't you save them?"

Silent, furious tears were now making their way down Dick's face, and Bruce had to suppress the urge to embrace him. He knew that would only make things worse. "I couldn't. There were too many people. There wasn't time for me to become Batman in order to save them."

"But-"

"No. How long did it take them to fall?"

Dick blinked, the brash question seeming to startle him. "6.8 seconds," he recited by memory.

A brief pang resonated in Bruce's chest at the statement. The kid had calculated the time to a millisecond. He shook it off and continued, "Exactly. Do you think that was enough time?"

Combatting emotions flickered across Dick's face. Desperation at wanting to fight back, and disappointment at the realization that Bruce was right.

"I...I just...I wanted...I wanted there to be a way to...to have saved them," Dick choked out, the pauses in his words punctuated with hiccupping sobs. He was past the point of being embarrassed now.

Bruce took that as an invitation to step forward and envelop his ward's small, shaking body in a strong, comforting embrace.

"I know, son," he said softly, stroking Dick's ebony hair as the boy leaned against him. "I know."

After a few minutes, the boy's sobs quieted and he took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. You know, for accusing you like that."

Bruce offered a small smile as Dick pulled away to look up at him. "Don't be. I completely understand."

Dick shot a slightly shaky grin back. "'Course you do. After all, you accused me of breaking your million dollar vase even though we both know it was you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bruce insisted, crossing his arms in mock annoyance.

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Show-off-to-Robin threw a Batarang that went awry."

"Humph. I never liked that vase, anyway."

Sorry if that was too short (I tend to write short things) and if the ending was a bit rushed or off or whatever. I didn't really know how to finish it up.

I know people have various stories on when Bruce first saw Dick, but for the purpose of this one-shot I decided to have him be there when the disaster occurred.

Oh, and I made up the date on the Circus ticket. Please don't sue me!

Anyway. Let me know what you think about my first attempt at Batman and Robin! (And whether or not I should continue with a series of one-shots.)