When Dick (Richard) Grayson first entered the Wayne household, the last thing he wanted was to be part of the family. He had accepted this man's hand, simply because of convenience to his goal of revenge. He wouldn't be in juvie, if he was an official ward. He wouldn't struggle for food on the street if he was under the care of a Wayne, who had his image to protect.
Bruce did try, he wanted to be there for him, Dick had heard from the police guy that he truly did understand what he was going through. That he too had sat in a wet puddle of blood. Didn't change that he felt it was a betrayal to his own parents if he accepted this new man into his life, and he actually didn't need anyone new, he needed to take revenge for what had once had.
Even when Bruce had promised that he wouldn't be in the limelight before he was ready, the media hardly had that much respect for his privacy. The first time he had sneaked out, he had been photographed, it was on every gossip magazine front page.
'Wayne's new ward runs away! Is the playboy really the best choice for this young life?'
'Is the new Wayne ward project already a fail?'
Some were attacking Bruce for taking the task of raising a child too lightly, it wasn't like getting a pet. He was too young and needed to focus on the Wayne business before this. Shouldn't he make sure that he oldest Wayne was of his own blood, instead of this. Was the reason he took in this child really a coincidence?
others attacking Dick, tagging him as an unruly child, not even thankful for the generosity Brucie Wayne had extended him. They kept mentioning how he should simply be glad that he didn't die on the street like so many other Gotham orphans did. He was of the lower class, not even from this country, he should be glad, he should be grateful.
It was somehow taking a toll on Bruce, more than it did Dick. It wasn't a surprise to the child that this was how it had turned, he wasn't dumb, he had seen how people treated even the adult in the circus, treated them like they were less than, even when they were paying a fortune to see them perform.
The breaking point was Alfred though. It was clear that the man, who had once been of service to the British Queen, thought highly of the Wayne name. Thought that it was somehow a stain on his own image to now have to be of service to a former circus child. He was unruly, he was loud, he was messy, he was defiant. He was everything Alfred had firmly educated out of Bruce a long time ago.
When in a fit of grieving rage, Dick had broken another vase, a large ceramic piece Martha Wayne herself had painted as a gift to Thomas. It luckily broke in big pieces, so it could in theory be repaired, but the second Alfred had stumbled upon it, seeing the broken remains of it, a cruel reminder of the broken Wayne legacy, his masters and friends taken from him too soon. It now laid on the floor in a broken mess.
He flew into a rage, rushing over to the child, grabbing him roughly by the arm and dragging him through the corridors of the home, until they arrived at one of the smaller walk-in pantries, it was filled to the brim with different things Dick didn't get the chance to see fully, as he was shoved roughly inside.
"Be conscientious for once and stay quiet. You will be let out when you've thought about what you've done."
The door shut with a harsh click. It was almost entirely pitch black, the only light escaping was from underneath door.
It was quiet, a level of quiet Dick couldn't handle, he could hear the beating of his own heart, the blood rushing in his head, even the small creak of his joints when he began crawling on the floor towards the light.
He didn't know how long he had been in the pantry, had lost track of time in between the tears, panic attacks and silence.
The rescue he had been waiting for came in the form of Bruce ripping open the door so harshly and quickly it sounded like he almost ripped it off the hinges. The light streamed in but was also quickly blocked by Bruce folding his entire being around Dick. A wave of apologies fell from his lips, promises that he could be free from his house if he wanted to, assurance that this would never happen again. But Dick didn't care, he clung to the man, crying so loudly his voice was breaking and he felt like he was choking.
The days that followed were loud, but suddenly not because of Dick.
Bruce was beyond furious. He had forced a vacation upon Alfred, out of consideration for all the work he had done for the family, he didn't fire him on the spot, a point he had emphasized, a lot. It was also an argument that Dick had stumbled upon in his attempt to escape the manor once again.
"I can't believe you, what in the world were you thinking?!"
"I was disciplining the child, something his guardian should have done."
"And that somehow gave you the right to do it instead!" He slammed his hand down against the counter, from what little Dick could see through the crack in the door, Alfred was keeping his own anger firmly in check.
"I do not see how letting him continue his unruly behaviour is befitting of the Wayn-"
"You are not a Wayne!" It seemed the loudness in his voice surprised even himself, the air turned tense as a heaviness settled between them. "I want you to take a vacation Alfred, go take some time in England" He sounded tired, like this discussion had taken the same energy as it would if he had been running a marathon.
"As you wish, master Wayne." The older man straightened, looking at Bruce with almost the same amount of discontent as he had towards Dick, but with the finesse of a man who knew better than to let himself be caught. "It seems this new addition to the household has changed you more than I thought."
That was it, Alfred exited the room through the servant's door, and Bruce looked even more broken than before. Dick doesn't remember ever taken the time to really look at him before, not as his new guardian, or rich man, but simply the man himself. A man grown in the same grief that he had, but without a guardian like himself.
Now that Dick thought about it.
How did he know Dick was in that specific pantry in a house with 200 rooms?
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