A/N: This takes place approximately two weeks after "The Final Flight" but I don't think you have to read that one first. You should, though. ;)

The description of my original character might be unbelievable. However, I looked it up and there are at least ten real people who are as tall or taller then my guy. :) They probably aren't as strong as he is, though.

As usual, Batman and Robin are based off the 1960s TV show but go back and forth between genres and are sometimes completely out of any characterization. I write it the way it enters my head, which is not always "historically" accurate. Italics usually represent thoughts to oneself but are sometimes used to add emphasis. I love reviews and constructive criticism is always welcome. Thanks for reading! :)

Chapter 1:

Bruce Wayne knocked softly on the bedroom door of his youthful ward, Dick Grayson.

"Yeah, come in," a tired voice called from inside.

Bruce opened the door and walked over to the bed where Dick was sprawled out under the covers. "Hey old chum, how are you feeling?"

"Bored, tired, annoyed," fifteen-year-old Dick sighed. "I've really been working my abs out, though," he grunted as he sat up without using his arms, both of which were encased in plaster.

"Easy now," Bruce said gently as he reached over to help him straighten up. He sat down on the bed and poked at Dick's forehead, pleased that the bump had almost disappeared completely.

"Ow!" Dick cried and Bruce pulled back in surprise. "Just kidding," he grinned. "My head's fine and so are my ribs. When can I get these," he raised his arms in the air, "off?"

Bruce chuckled, "Pretty soon. Turn your head so I can check your stitches."

Dick did as he was told. "Why is it taking sooooo long to heal?" he asked dramatically.

"Hey, it's not my fault you chose to dismount in such an unusual fashion," Bruce stated with a smile. "You're right, your head is fine. The outside anyway; I don't think I'll ever figure out the status of the inside."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, good one Bruce. Did you talk to Commissioner Gordon?"

"I did," Bruce said. There was a long pause.

"Well, what did he say?!" Dick exclaimed in exasperation. "Wait! First, what did you say? Did you tell him that I told you? Did you get mad at him? Is he upset with me? Did…"

"Slow down, let me talk," Bruce replied, raising a hand to stop the questions. "I asked him if he knew how Bruce Wayne was doing. 'I talked to him yesterday and he sounds fine' was his answer. Then I just jumped right in and asked him why he thought Robin was incapable of taking care of things when Batman is gone. He looked shocked and asked what…"

"Were you yelling at him?" Dick interrupted anxiously. "I don't want him to be mad at me for telling you although he probably already is now that he knows you know and I'm the only one who could have told you because Chief O'Hara wouldn't have a reason to and he was the only other one in the room." He paused to take a breath.

"Relax, Dick," Bruce responded with a laugh. "I wasn't yelling, at that point anyway."

"Did you just say 'at that point'? What other reason would you have to yell at him?" Dick questioned.

"I didn't say I yelled at him," Bruce said, his face darkening. "One of his junior officers barged in and, apparently, didn't notice me standing directly in front of the commissioner's desk. He walked right past me and shoved a paper in Commissioner Gordon's face and said he was quitting."

"Okay, yeah, I can totally see how that would be something to start yelling about," Dick shook his head with a smirk.

Bruce didn't even crack a smile. "I'm not done," he stated and Dick was startled at the anger in his tone.

"I'm not upset with you," Bruce sighed in frustration. "It's what happened next that irritated me." There was another long pause; he didn't want to continue.

Dick cleared his throat and stared directly into Bruce's eyes. "What happened next?" he asked although he thought he knew what might be coming.

Staring right back at him, Bruce growled, "The officer stated that he couldn't be part of a force that let a boy do its work. He also said…" Bruce really wanted to end the conversation now but knew Dick, and especially Robin, wouldn't let him.

"He said…" Dick repeated. "Come on, just spit it out." He sighed and dropped his eyes to the blankets.

Bruce ran a hand down his face in an attempt to calm himself. "He said that Chief O'Hara was right to ask why Batman would leave Gotham 'unprotected'. Batman was the city's protector, not Robin." He stopped, a little confused, when Dick looked up with a grin.

"Did you ask him why, then, was it Robin who brought Bruce Wayne back to the police station, safe and sound?"

Bruce smiled and said, "No. I yelled at him."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Of course you did. Did you also think this would upset me?"

Bruce frowned. "Well…yes."

"Please, Bruce, I'm not five. People say stuff like that about me all the time. I'm too small, not strong enough, just a boy, just a sidekick, whatever. I've heard it all before and I'll hear it more in the future. I'm okay with being a sidekick and being small has its advantages."

Bruce looked at him in amazement. "Sometimes, Dick, you surprise even me. And you're not a sidekick, you're my partner. Ready for dinner?"

Dick flipped the blankets off with his left leg then brought both legs in and shot them out. The momentum propelled his body off the bed and he easily landed on just his left foot. "I've been working on my leg strength, too," he laughed when he saw Bruce jump up in shock.

"Dick, if you break anything else while you are supposed to be recovering you will never see another night as Robin," Bruce declared in his most serious voice.

Forgetting that his sprained right ankle was still heavily bandaged, Dick stumbled back in surprise. "You would…you mean…I…" he stopped as his heel caught on the edge of the rug and he started to fall onto his back. Bruce ran over to catch him but Dick had already used his momentum to flip himself into a forward roll. By the time Bruce got there Dick was sitting up with his knees bent, both casted arms on top of them and his head resting on his arms. He was breathing heavily and Bruce was worried that he had hurt himself.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked calmly as he knelt in front of Dick.

Dick muttered some words and Bruce had to lean down to hear what he was saying.

"Don't take Robin away, please."

"Dick," Bruce whispered. There was no response so he said it louder, "Dick!"

Dick slowly raised his head.

"I'm not taking Robin away. It was a, well it was supposed to be a joke but I guess it didn't really turn out that way. I'm not taking Robin away; I just want you to be more careful, especially when you're not fully healed."

Dick smirked, "Lame joke; I totally got you! You think I would just let you take Robin? We're the 'Dynamic Duo' Bruce, and I'll be your sidekick until the day I die."

Bruce smacked him playfully on the top of his head. "Of course; I should have known better. You'll be my partner until the day I die. I'm hungry, let's go." He stood, grabbed Dick's upper arms and pulled him up. "You're getting a little too old for this," he grumbled as he twisted around so that Dick was riding on his back.

Dick grinned, "It's good for your muscles. Just think of it as your daily workout."

"My regular workout doesn't leave me with a goose egg on the side of my head," was the retort as the cast on Dick's right arm collided with Bruce's head.

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that," Dick flinched at the slight spike of pain. Bruce walked out the door and started down the stairs.

"Master Bruce, why on earth is Master Dick riding on your back while you are stomping down the stairs?" Alfred's voice was incredulous as he looked up at them from the foyer.

"It's better than letting him slide down the banister, isn't it?" Bruce chuckled.