This is a new story that will(hopefully) become a series. If it's pretty well-received, I'll continue it, if not, eh... maybe.

If this does continue, I have to apologize for the amount of time between updates. I'm in every honors class I could cram in and well, it's... hard. This is kind of my escape.

Anyway, Hope you enjoy and I do not own any characters or places associated with or owned by DC comics.

The title and somewhat plot is taken from "Alone Together" by Fall Out Boy

P.S. Yes, I know I'm messing with times and characters and events, but this is AU anyway, so what do I care?

Richard Grayson, also known as Dick Grayson, had been on his own for more than five years now. When his parents died he was only six, and the cruel shock broke his soul into pieces. Almost immediately after his parents death, he was forcibly taken away from his home, Haley's Circus and sent to Gotham Juvie for close to six months, the broken shards were ground into dust.

Now the former acrobat lived on the streets, getting by on scraps and stolen money. He was always hungry, but for some reason, being on the streets, able to go anywhere, was remarkably freeing. Cold, lonely, dirty, but free. Not all days were good, for various reasons.

Today for example, he was running for his life from an extremely angry man, currently missing his wallet and gold watch. Dick cursed himself, wishing he had never gone back for the watch. Overconfidence was a killer, Dick thought as he dodged a trash can and flung himself onto the nearest fire escape. Quickly, he kicked the rust-infested ladder twice and it clanged loudly as it crashed to the ground.

With a self-satisfied smirk, he turned and raced up the remaining stairs, ignoring the fierce yells from below as he reached the rooftops and started dashing across them.

Dick leapt from one roof top to another, bare feet hardly touching the ground as he flew beneath the gray November sky. Although he never flew on the trapeze nowadays, he could flip the edges of rooftops and for a moment, feel as if he was home again.

Speaking of home, Dick noticed that the gray skies were darkening, heralding snow in the near future. As he turned towards the dark alleys in the back streets of Gotham, where only deranged lunatics or helpless idiots lived. Dick was the sole exception to the rule as far as he could tell.

When Dick jumped off the roof and landed softly, bending his knees before standing up, he looked at the menacing skies again and groaned, knowing that once the snow started, he would start running the risk of getting frostbite. His last pair of shoes finally collapsed at the start of spring, and only once the snow hit would it be an issue. This year, he would either find new shoes or try to get by on what food he had stocked up in his hide away.

Glancing around, Dick made sure no one was around before shifting aside an old grimy dumpster and sliding into the hole behind it. Dick had discovered this 2 months after he started living on the streets.

Stumbling around, looking for a scrap of food, Dick had spotted the dumpster and wobbled towards it, dizzy from lack of food. Right before he reached up to open the dumpsters top, the world suddenly started tilting and Dick felt his legs give out beneath him and saw the filthy green of the dumpster's side come rushing towards his face.

Dick caught his balance as the last second, grabbing onto the dumpster while he fell and inadvertently pushing it out of the way. With a horrible grinding sound the wheels moved and revealed the black maw of the hole in the wall.

Curious, Dick slipped inside and squirmed a few feet until he felt his shoulders break free of the small tunnel and he pushed the rest of his body through. When he stood up and brushed himself off, Dick's mouth fell open in shock, unable to believe the sight before him. The tunnel had opened up into a small cave, probably part of an old subway, judging from the tracks in the floor. The brickwork was crumbling in a few places, letting in light from God knows where.

Dick spent the rest of spring and summer fixing up the cave so he could actually live in it during the harsh winter. The cave had a few natural crevasses that were cold enough to store food in most of the year and the worn out blankets bunched together in one corner served as a nest of sorts, a place to lounge and sleep, where Dick didn't have to worry about anyone sneaking up on him. There were several entrances to the cave, and all but one was only large enough for a child to fit through. The last one was the arch where the trains used to come in, but it had mostly collapsed and was well hidden with some cleverly placed debris. And from then on, Dick had hidden away in his cave whenever he wasn't out stealing food and money or honing his reflexes on the streets of Gotham. After all, a slow thief is a dead thief.

The money was removed from the wallet and hid behind a brick, and the wallet was thrown into a pile that would be burned soon, after all, what on earth would Dick need a wallet for? It's not like he had anything but stolen money and that was usually hidden in a pocket he made in his shirt, so nobody would find it.

A small portion of mostly dry bread and a slice of apple was the only food Dick had since the half a bagel he found this morning. His stomach was growling protests at him, but Dick ignored it, knowing if he didn't ration his food now, he may starve before winter gives up its icy hold on the city.

The next night, he would have so much more to worry about than surviving the winter. In fact, the main thought that went through Dick's head that night was "I hope I live to see tomorrow".

It had never snowed and had actually warmed up a bit, so Dick decided to head out and grab whatever he could before the weather took a nose dive. So far he had 50 bucks and two loaves of bread, along with a heavy conscience. Dick's parents had been fundamentally good people, raising their son to be good as well. So every time he stole something, Dick felt a twinge in his chest, the only feeling he ever seemed to have these days.

Dick leaned against a chimney and grinned humorlessly. Six months after his parents deaths, he escaped from Juvie. Dick thought he would have been elated to be free of that horrible place but instead he felt nothing. A bleak emptiness had filled his life since then, and the only things he ever felt now were guilt, fear, and on increasingly rare occasions, a light airy feeling when he raced across rooftops. Otherwise, Dick covered up the emptiness with snark and smiles, hiding himself from the world.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had smiled because he was honestly happy.

Dick shook his head violently, to rid himself of such depressing thoughts. It was useless to bring himself down, especially when a perfect mark was walking below him in the street. Long trench coat, hat pulled down and money slightly protruding from his pocket. Dick smirked and thought, Too easy.

As the man walked further away from the main part of the city, Dick became increasingly confident that this would be an easy steal, in and out before the man even registered his lighter pocket.

Dick ran slightly ahead of the man and jumped onto a lower roof and then straight to the ground, rolling to mask the sound of his landing. He ducked behind a corner and curled himself into a tiny ball, as if he were just another homeless person, desperate for warmth on the street.

The man rounded the corner and at the same moment, Dick stood up, walking into him and getting caught in a tangle of limbs. Violent cursing ensued followed by Dick's apologies, stuttered and fast. He backed away with his hands up and the man cast him one last look before giving a disgruntled snort and roughly brushing past Dick as he left. Dick fell to the ground and stayed there, pretending to be hurt, even whimpering softly as the man stomped out of sight.

Once he was sure the man was gone, Dick unfurled himself and surreptitiously patted his side, where he felt the slight bulk of the money in the hidden pocket. One more glance around the filthy alley way and then Dick was racing back home, one hand firmly on his ribs. After all, it would be a waste if the money fell out while he was running home.

Before he actually returned to his cave, Dick stopped at a local diner, a pretty respectable place for being located in the back streets of Gotham. Dick knew one of the owners, Tanner, absolutely hated him and forcefully removed him from the shop if he ever came by. Which is why Dick always risked waiting until dark to come to the store, because then Tanner's wife, Amy, would be working.

Amy was a willowy woman, tall with brown hair and eyes, and always willing to feed Dick leftovers from the day. She faintly reminded him of his mother, but he always quickly got rid of that thought. Dick didn't need any reminders of what he'd lost, much less from the only woman who ever offered him food, even if it was only scraps.

Actually, he had to work for his scraps, but it was pretty easy work, just sweeping up and washing dishes. It didn't take that long, so Dick was usually out of the shop within a half an hour with his stomach full.

Tonight was business as usual, and Dick left full of stale bread and cheese. He even bought a small donut, just because today would probably be one of the last days outside. Might as well treat himself.

Dick licked up the final crumbs of the donut from his hands, relishing in the sweet taste, totally oblivious to the person behind him until it was too late.

The blow to his head sent Dick reeling and stumbling to his knees. He was roughly pulled up by a meaty hand and turned to face his attacker.

The man from earlier was standing next to the brute holding Dick off the ground by his arm. Dick gulped and struggled to free himself from the large man. All he got was a throbbing arm and a lack of breath. Where did all the oxygen go? Shouldn't it be here? Or maybe it was because the meaty hand on his arm had moved to his neck.

Huh. As the world turned black, the only thing that passed through Dick's mind, was that he wished he could've hidden the money first.

Consciousness came in the form of a baseball bat to the side of his head. Dick's eyes snapped open and he grunted in pain, feeling blood dribble down his face.

Eyelids fluttering, Dick finally managed to open his eyes to see the person holding the baseball bat. And boy, did Dick wish he never opened them.

At first, the only thing Dick was worried about was the man in the white suit holding the baseball bat. He was pretty tall and well built, with black hair and brown eyes. Then the man turned to face Dick.

The other half of his face was a grotesque mishmash of burn scars and exposed muscle, the sight of it nearly forcing Dick to vomit. The man's suit was split in half, a perfect mirror of each other with opposing colors. Black where white should be and white were black was.

Two-Face. Formerly known as Harvey Dent.

"Hello little boy. Did you have a nice trip? I heard you stole something from one of my men and he would very much like it back. So where did you hide it?" The grin was meant to be reassuring but was terrifying instead and Dick nearly said so. Instead he spat out,

"I'll tell you when I care." A very very stupid thing to say. That nervous sarcasm was sure to kill him someday.

The baseball bat once more collided with his face, prompting Dick to start coughing.

Maybe someday was today.

Three more hits connected before a new sound besides grunts of pain and thuds of wood on flesh entered Dick's ears.

Odd, it almost sounded like... glass shattering.

In the next second to many things happened for Dick to process but what he did understand was this;

He was no longer being beaten.

Someone was beating up Two-Face and his men.

That someone was Batman.

This time when Dick became conscious again, it was to the soft rumbling of an engine and the gentle bumping of riding in a car. He cautiously listened before opening his eyes, after hearing nothing that was immediately dangerous. The sight that greeted Dick was strange enough for him to jump up and almost crack his head on the window.

Of the freaking Batmobile.

Batman(The Batman) gave the barest hint of a smirk, before saying, "You should be careful with your head. You have a nasty concussion."

Now that he mentioned it, Dick was feeling nauseous. And like someone was running a truck repeatedly over his head. Ow.

"Are you alright?" Batman asked in a slightly quieter tone, seeing the look of pain flash across Dick's face. Quickly, Dick schooled his features and shot back,

"Well, I was beaten with a baseball bat by a crazy guy, have a concussion, and I'm not sitting with the most lethal superhero of the League. So just asterous."

"Asterous?" Batman asked, giving another quick glance at Dick. The boy looked exhausted and in pain, but was hiding it well, with a snarky grin. Batman still noticed though. They don't call him "the world's greatest detective" for nothing.

"Opposite of disastrous. So basically, everything's great. Fine. Perfect. Can you let me out now? We're getting near my house."

"This is where you live?" Batman wasn't surprised, not really. The kid was dressed in rags and had no shoes. The bandages on his head were cleaner than the rest of him and he was light. Much, much too light. And his age was mostly undiscernable, because he was very small, no taller than 4'7", but spoke like someone years older.

Batman stopped the Batmobile, spinning it once around as it skidded to a halt. He looked over at Dick once more, watching silently as the boy unfastened the seatbelt and pulled on the handle to open the door.

Before Dick could jump out, Batman grabbed his arm and started him in the eyes. It felt as if Batman were reaching for his soul.

But Dick didn't have one. Not anymore.

So he turned away and pulled out of Batman's grasp, hopping onto the wet pavement. Apparently it had started snowing while Dick had been out. He shivered once and then pulled a smile out of nowhere.

"Thanks for the rescue, Batman." All Dick got was that trace of a grin again and a muttered warning.

"Try not to make a habit of it." There was no heat behind it, and as Batman drove into the shadows, Dick felt a pang in his chest. One he hadn't felt in a long time.

Who'd have thought it would take the Dark Knight to make a little boy with no heart want to belong again?

A/N: Well, that turned out longer than I thought. I think I spent a lot of time on descriptions. And speaking of time, I should've been asleep hours ago. Need to be well rested for my AP test tomorrow. Agh.

Anyway, please review and let me know what you think.

Love it? Hate it? Suggestions?