Because despite how much I hate Batman, I'm a sucker for the BatFam and even more so for Daddy Bats.

He assures the team that he'll be back, promises that he's okay.

He needs a break. He's only going to clear his head.

Raven and Cyborg don't argue, only send him worried glances, and Beast Boy only complains for half an hour before changing tactics and making him promise to bring back a souvenir. Starfire... Starfire begins arguing the moment he announces his sudden vacation.

"Robin, please," she begs. "You only just returned home. At least rest and enjoy the dinner with us."

Robin takes one look at the Chinese take out sitting on the kitchen counter, and his stomach flips.

"I'm sorry, Star, but I promise I'll be back in a few days," he says again. "After everything that happened with Slade, with what I did to you guys... There's just something I have to do."

"At least tell us where you are going," Starfire compromises, and Robin sighs.

"I'm going to Gotham," he finally says, and he knows the rest of the team heard too, because Beast Boy falls off the couch.

"Dude," the changeling gasps, "no way. Like... for real? You're going back?"

Robin can see the fear in his friends eyes, the doubt and worry. "I told you, I'll be back. There's just some people I need to talk to, some things I have to do. I'll be back in a few days."

Finally, Starfire steps away from the door, her hands clasped in front of her, and looking as if the world around her was slowing to a stop.

"It's only a few days," he repeats. "I'll even bring back a souvenir."

She nods, but Robin knows she doesn't believe it. He keeps walking, though. He'll smooth things over when he gets back.

Wayne Manor is bigger than he remembers, darker and scarier. The drive way is longer than necessary, and the giant doors are more threatening than welcoming.

He had changed out of the cape and mask before he had even neared the city limits, and now he fiddles with his sunglasses as he knocks on the door.

It takes a few minutes, but he doesn't mind because he can use the minutes to control his breathing, to calm his racing heart.

It's still not enough.

Alfred opens the door with elegance, but as soon as he sees Dick, his eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, but no words come out.

It's the first time Dick has ever seen the man truly speechless.

"Master Richard?" he finally asks.

"Hey, Alfred," he says softly, shuffling his feet and trying not to stare at the ground. "I know I- I mean, I'm sorry I just kind of... showed up, but-"

There's two hands on his shoulders, and Alfred is beaming, and before he knows it, Dick is pulled inside, and the door is firmly shut.

"I'm afraid Master Bruce is in a meeting at the moment, but he should return soon," Alfred is saying, leading him further into the house, back to where Dick knows the kitchen is.

He can smell freshly baked cookies, and smiles a bit at the thought of the Dark Knight eating some home made cookies, but he can't really blame Bruce. Alfred's cookies is one thing that can never be replicated. (And Dick would know - he's tried.)

"I'm glad you're home, Master Dick, but I must ask: why?"

Dick falters in his steps, but recovers quickly. (Alfred notices - he always notices.)

"Something happened recently," he says, staring at the ground. "I just realized that I... I wanted to come home for a bit."

The butler furrows his brow, but only smiles. "Master Bruce will be pleased with your visit," he says, and it sounds... assuring? Promising?

Dick doubts that Bruce will be "pleased" with anything, but he knows arguing would be a lost cause and Alfred would probably make him wash dishes if he tried, so he let's it go.

"It is a long trip from Jump to Gotham, however, so I must insist you go and wash up," Alfred tells him, his eyebrow raised. "Dinner should be ready by the time you return."

This time, Dick doesn't even want to think about arguing, because after everything he had gone through the past few days, absolutely nothing sounds better than the promise of food - good food, not left over pizza or cheap takeout.

So he nods with a smile and makes his way back to the foyer so he can climb the stairs and hopefully calm his still wired nerves and change his clothes.

The drive from Jump to Gotham was longer than he remembered, and he feels kind of gross in the clothes he's wearing now.

He changes into khakis and a button up shirt, but it's wrinkled because of how he crammed it into his bag. Alfred would tsk at him later, but Dick can only give a small smile at the thought.

He slides down the banister, for old times sake, and can't help but feel a twinge of regret at the lack of stairway banisters back at the tower. Then again, with their... odd group of teenagers, elevators were probably the safest choice.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, he hops off, landing steadily.

There's the sound of a clearing throat behind him, and like that, Dick stiffens and remembers why he made the trip to Gotham in the first place. He turns to face his former mentor, and suddenly he feels like he's nine again.

Bruce Wayne stands before him, tall and intimidating. His arms are crossed, and his eyes are narrow, but Dick has known him long enough to tell when he's confused.

"Dick?" he asks, slowly stepping forward.

"Bruce," he says, resisting the urge to run back to Jump City. "H-hi."

"What are you doing here?" Bruce asks.

Dick shuffles his feet. "I assume you watched the news. Or your, uh, security cameras?"

Bruce keeps his emotionless mask up, a silent urge for the teenager to continue.

His throat closes up, and his vision becomes blurry. Quickly, Dick looks away, refusing to show Bruce any weakness.

Luckily, Alfred steps into the hall. "Master Bruce, Master Dick?" he called. "Dinner is served."

At first, Bruce doesn't move. Dick holds his breath, waiting, and finally, the older man sighs and turns to walk to the dining room.

Dick sighs, too, and gives a small smile to Alfred before following Bruce.

He isn't surprised when Alfred doesn't join them for dinner, and he isn't sure how he feels about that.

For the first fifteen minutes, they eat in silence. Nothing but the sounds of dishes clanking and nervous shuffling surround them, and finally, Dick can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry," he blurts, pushing his plate away. "I'm sorry I stormed out that night, and I'm sorry I didn't call, and I'm sorry I stole from Wayne Industries. You were right. I wasn't ready to go out on my own, let alone lead a team, but I thought I was doing okay, and-" He breaks off, swallows a lung full of air, and launches into the memories of the past few days. He even tells the story of Red X, his biggest regret, and apologizes again.

He's just finished recapping the whole story of him being Slade's apprentice when a hand lands on his shoulder. Dick freezes, and takes a moment to realize that Bruce is kneeling in front of him.

"Dick," he says calmly, "it's all right. Take a breath."

He does, a long, deep one, and he focuses on calming his pulse. "I'm sorry," he says again, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Bruce sighs. "Dick," he starts, hesitantly, "I'm sorry for making you feel like you had to go in the first place. You should know I've been keeping track of you and your team since the start, and I'm proud of you. You've had to make some tough decisions, and you've grown a lot since you left... I'm proud of you, Dick."

The teen gives a wobbly smile and resists the urge to hug his former mentor.

"Now, as for this Slade character," Bruce growls, going back to his seat, "what do you have on him? Anything I can do to help?"

And this is more comfortable. Dick relaxes, knowing the worst is out of the way, and they can carry on like normal. A rocky, almost father-son relationship, with a dash of psycho clowns and a murderous penguin.

"I can handle him," Dick assures. "But, um... maybe you could check over my files? See if I missed anything?"

"I'd be happy to," Bruce says.

"Master Bruce, I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but it's getting late," Alfred says, entering the room.

Both Bruce and Dick check their watches, and the former quickly stands. "It is getting late," he agrees, and turns towards his protege. "Want to join me? I'm sure the streets of Gotham miss Robin."

Dick grins, and there's a spark in his blue eyes that makes Bruce and Alfred cringe.

"I can be ready to go in two minutes."

Bruce smirks. "You have one. Now go, or I'm leaving without you."

With a mock salute, he's gone, running up the stairs, and nearly tripping in his haste.

Alfred sighs. "Do keep an eye on him, Master Bruce. And don't let him leave again without a proper goodbye this time."

The Dark Knight nods. "I've already taken the keys to his bike. He isn't going anywhere for at least a week."

"In that case, I'll have his celebratory brownies prepared by the time you return."