Notes: I know this isn't the Erasure sequel people are waiting for. However, I want to do something else before jumping into a project like that. So I went through my files and found this partly written response to a prompt which I thought I might like to finish. Now, I don't know anyone who uses a wheelchair, I just have to go off the stuff I've learnt as a result of my job. This might be a bit unrealistic at times, especially with some of what I have planned in the future (if you've read Earth 2 - Society, I'm going to take some inspiration from there). Two things. First, I want to cover the questions in the prompt so we'll get to see how there can be a Robin when Dick can't do the physical work (this is going to be multi-chapter and I don't know how long). Second, the plan is to make Dick's injury permanent.

Prompt: AU Bruce Wayne takes in an injured Dick Grayson.

It's the opening night of Haly's Circus in Gotham City and the Fabulous Flying Graysons are preparing to up their ante on their performance. Tonight is going to be the first flight of their youngest member in their grande finale.

Dick is excited. He's finally proven himself good enough and strong enough to be included in the last act. He watches for his cue and swings out to meet them perfectly. When the ropes snap he's right out there with them and he falls too.

A short while later he wakes up in a hospital and discovers that not only are his parents and his aunt and cousin dead, but that his uncle has yet to wake up. Most terrifying of all though is the fact that when Dick wakes, he discovers he's paralyzed.

He's dealing with a life changing injury, the loss of his family, and a social worker who's not really sure what the heck to do with him when Bruce Wayne walks in. Bruce saw the whole thing and has been absent from the hospital for the simple reason that he's been making the mansion wheelchair accessible.

Dick moves in with Bruce; a short while later he discovers that Bruce is Batman and decides to help him somehow. There's no way he can swing from the buildings though but he's determined to do something to aid him.

Basically how would Robin differ if he'd come to Bruce Wayne disabled? Would he be an Oracle? A master hacker with no equal. How would his place on the YJ team be different?

Up to Anon whether his injury is permanent or if he does eventually heal and turn into the Robin we all know and love.

Slight Change of Plans

The Graysons fell. Their wings shattered, the ropes snapped. The crunches of their bodies hitting the ground were etched into the minds of those present. The dull thud moments later as the youngest landed on their broken bodies. The audience had been told he was flying in the grand finale for the first time and this covered the news as it added to the tragedy.

The night was remembered. The child was not.

Dick Grayson was shipped to hospital where he received emergency care. They saved his legs but not his ability to use them.

His eyes opened days later, memories of his final moments on the trapeze and the terrified faces of his family etched into his mind.

Dick tried to walk. He didn't care what the nurses and doctors said. He used the frame of the bed to try and leverage himself out. But, it was useless when his body didn't move the way he needed.

Below his waist was dead weight. The thought that he might never fly again was worse than the nurses coming in to help him clean below; he couldn't control the muscles for the toilet so he had to go on a schedule and in... other ways.

He asked his to see his uncle once. His uncle, a man who loved life as much as anyone else in the circus, was deathly pale and hooked to machines keeping him alive in his coma.

"We don't know if he'll ever wake up," his uncle's doctor told him.

Dick tried not to cry and he stretched out and tried to brush the hair away from his uncle's closed eyes. He almost tipped the chair, the doctor's hand shooting out and pressing him back and balanced.

Tears stung Dick's eyes but he didn't cry until he was in bed, a pillow shoved over his face so he could have some illusion of privacy.

He wanted Zitka, the smell of the circus and the warmth of his family's trailer. He wanted to hear his cousin laugh, his uncle chuckle and the songs his mother loved to softly sing. He wanted to see his dad's smile, the bright colours of the circus tent and Mr. Haly.

A few days after he woke, a woman calling herself a social worker arrived. She muttered 'um' and 'uh' a lot as she tried to explain that there was nowhere to send him. She was leaning towards sending him to the Juvenile Detention Centre just because they were the only place equipped to handle someone with his needs.

The way she said 'needs' like he was useless made Dick want to throw things at her. How could she justify basically sending him to prison because he needed a wheelchair? Didn't Gotham have wheelchair accessible buildings?

Dick asked about sending him back to the circus but she refused, citing that they were 'the very people who caused his 'condition'' and a whole bunch of stuff about how it would be traumatic for him.

"Shouldn't I decide that for myself?" he questioned, only be ignored.

Dick screamed into his pillow when she left. His throat ached long before he was done.

Dick looked up as the door opened and a man dressed in a very nice suit walked in. He looked around and frowned.

Dick greeted him and asked his name.

"Bruce Wayne," he responded, moments before frantic cries of 'Mr Wayne' sounded in the distance.

The social worker opened the door, looking tired and scrambled. Dick braced himself for another 'session' where he would listen to someone complain about how much trouble he was as a disabled orphan.

"Mr. Wayne, you can't be serious about this! We have a number of other children-"

"Ah, Ms Harris," Bruce said, cutting her off as he held out his hand. "As I'm sure you're aware, I plan to take Richard in and today is the day he's to be discharged, correct?"

"Y-yes, however-"

"Yes?" Bruce asked with a smile. The social worker, Ms Harris, froze for a moment.

"Uh... um... he needs a wheelchair, sir. And unfortunately, we can't provide one."

Dick sighed. He had heard this talk a number of times over the past few days. Once he was out of the hospital, he would have to pay for his own wheelchair or spend his days in bed.

He didn't know how Gotham expected a child to pay thousands of dollars for an important piece of equipment. Dick was certain he would go crazy since he would be stuck in bed.

"That's fine. I've already got the kid one. Not to brag or anything, but my butler is very good at his job. I have no idea how, but he managed to get the kid's size and everything!" Bruce laughed.

Ms Harris tittered a polite laugh. Bruce continued before she could say anything, "and he's bringing it up now. I just requested a little time with the kid myself. After all, I need to introduce myself and get to know him without overwhelming him."

'Overwhelming'? Dick wasn't the least bit 'overwhelmed'. He wasn't 'underwhelmed' either. Was there a word in between the two he could use?

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Richard," Bruce said, dismissing the social worker.

"Dick," Dick said. He wondered if Bruce would listen to him. It seemed to be half-half in this place. Some of the hospital staff and the social worker insisted on calling him 'Richard' while some called him 'Dick' like he asked.

"Nice to meet you, Dick. How are you doing?"

"I think I'm whelmed."

Bruce blinked and questioned, "pardon?"

"Well, I'm not overwhelmed or underwhelmed so I guess I'm just whelmed."

Bruce laughed and it was Dick's turn to stare. Bruce didn't look like a man who laughed a lot.

"So, Dick. Are you ready to come live with me?" Bruce asked.

"I guess," Dick responded with a shrug. He didn't have much a choice. It was Bruce or prison. "Why am I only meeting you now?"

"Oh that!" Bruce laughed and turned back to the door which the social worker was probably listening through. "I was busy getting the manor ready. Changes were needed to make it accessible to wheelchairs. It's ready now and even Ms Harris is free to come and check it out!"

Dick smirked as Bruce obviously aimed the end of that sentence to the woman eavesdropping on their conversation. Bruce seemed alright. It wasn't the circus but Dick supposed he had to roll with it. He would only bother Haly as a kid in a chair anyway.

Alfred, the butler, seemed nice. He showed Dick around, from the ramp added the front entrance to the service elevator to get him up to the manor's other floors.

Dick couldn't help feeling wistful about those stairs. They were the kind of stairs kids dreamed about sliding down.

Alfred settled him into his room and helped him through his daily routines.

Bruce appeared at meals, although the man was quiet.

"Does he not like me?" Dick asked Alfred one morning as he wheeled around the kitchen. His cereal had been placed on a low shelf where he could reach it.

"Master Bruce... does not know many children, despite being almost like a child himself," Alfred responded. "It's certainly not the chair and more the addition of someone new. But, he's given you a room here and that's the battle won."

"So, he does like me?" Dick questioned. The corner of Alfred's mouth twitched and Dick didn't know how the read that expression beyond amused.

During his first time at one of 'Brucie Wayne's' parties, Dick wished he could still kick people. He had been dressed in a tight, chaffing tux and wheeled into the room by Alfred like some kind of invalid so people could gawk at him and make mean comments behind his back.

"This sucks," he muttered. He couldn't even reach the snack trays the waiters were carrying around. They didn't seem inclined to bend down and let the shortie take from their trays.

Maybe he could wheel his chair into or over one of their feet and have them drop the food on him. He quickly dismissed that idea as there were too many things which could go wrong and it would attract too much attention.

He needed to be sneakier. So, he grabbed a walking stick which ended with a hook and used it to 'fish' the food off the trays. He barely needed any practise to pull the move off smoothly.

"Hn. Clever," Bruce commented, almost shocking Dick out of the chair as he suddenly appeared behind him. "But, you could have asked me."

"I had no idea where you were," Dick pointed out as he motioned towards the sea of people. "I can't see through all the hips."

Bruce frowned and knelt down to his eye level.

"Oh," he said in realisation.

"Yeah. 'Oh'. So, can we leave?"

"Actually," Bruce said, pushing him towards one of the walls. "I thought I might introduce you to Jim Gordon and his daughter."

"Is she another of your pretty friends?" Dick grumbled, thinking over the number of other women Bruce had introduced him to at the start.

"Does it matter?" a short-toned voice commented. Red hair flashed into view as a young teenager walked out from behind an older man. "I'm not into older men."

"Barbara," the man, Commissioner Jim Gordon, sighed. The man had a moustache and a packet of smokes sticking out of his pocket.

"Jim, Barbara. This is Dick. Dick, Commission Jim Gordon and his daughter Barbara Gordon. You'll be joining her at school."

"School?" Dick questioned, shooting Bruce a distasteful glare. It was the first he had heard of that.

Jim gave Bruce an unimpressed look.

"Dick, you cannot spend all your time at the manor. Barbara has already promised to show you around."

Dick frowned and crossed his arms, glaring up at Bruce. "I would have been nice if you had told me this." His parents had always talked to him and explained things to him. Now he just had nurses who lamented about 'how sad' he was and doctors who talked to social workers and Bruce before him.

Barbara glanced between Bruce and Dick and then huffed.

"Alright, Dick, what do you say we sneak into the kitchens or something?" she suggested.

"I can't exactly sneak," Dick pointed out, motioning to his chair.

"Then we practise! Is it alright if I push you?"

Dick nodded, glad she had asked. A lot of people (Bruce's 'conquests') didn't bother asking before pushing him somewhere (usually out of the room with some excuse about how it was 'adult's time').

Barbara was alright. As they moved around, she explained that the school was pretty cool.

Mostly they ended up gossiping about the people at the party. Dick also learnt that he could, in fact, sneak with his chair.

He snuck up behind a woman at the tables and frightened her when he politely asked her to move. Barbara laughed while he got disapproving stares.