DC: Heroes of Gotham

His First Party

Prompt: 23 year old Bruce at a party, chatting up a super model, stiffening suddenly and muttering, "Shit. Shit."

The model ask what wrong, he describes Dick, saying how he needs to find him. The model offers help, gathering her model friends to help search for 8 year old Dickie.

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Bruce forced the smile on his face, arms wrapped around the women on either side of him. He wondered how and why they let him do this, play them. Did they have such low self-esteem or did they think they'd be the one to change him?

Change him.

The little boy he recently took in had changed him in several ways, both as Bruce Wayne and Batman. There was now life in the house and cave. There was a reason to try harder, to put work aside sometimes, and to smile.

The boy worked so hard for Bruce, to not fail him. He would train until his hands were bleeding and he couldn't stand if Bruce let him.

His eyes darted over to the side of the couch, where he last saw Dick.

It was empty.

He bolted up, earning gasps from the girls. His eyes frantically searched the area, trying to find a small boy in the sea of strobe lights, dancing adults, and deafening music.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," he cursed, turning in every direction but not seeing his ward.

"What's wrong?" one of the girl's asked, standing up and putting a comforting hand on his arm. It made him tense, but he pretended to be grateful for the act.

"I, um, where's Dick?"

"Who?" the girl asked.

"The boy you took in?" another asked.

"Yes. Yes, him."

"You brought him here?" one asked in disbelief.

"He wanted to come. Where is he?"

Time was not making him any calmer. His eyes darted around, his body refusing to stay still. He was in a panic. For the relaxed billionaire play boy, this was new.

"Hey, calm down. What does he look like?"

"Um, um," a hand on his shoulder kept him still but his eyes and head continued to scan the area. "Little boy about three foot ten. Black hair. Blue eyes. He loves to climb, do flips, and other acrobat stuff. He loves to play games like hide'n'seek," he rambled.

"Okay, okay. That's enough. Why don't you stay here in case he comes back. The girls and I will look around and see if we can find him, alright?"

Bruce nodded but it didn't seem like he was paying attention. "Yeah, yeah."

She sighed, leaving one model to stay with Bruce while the others fanned out. They looked under tables, chairs, the DJ, behind the bar counter, speakers. They pushed their way through crowds to find the little boy.

Some really wanted to find the boy. What kind of person takes a little kid to a party like this? Bruce was in no way fit to raise the boy. Those girls hoped and prayed the young boy would be found, safe and sound.

Other girls were greedy, not caring about the boy but wanting to look good for the billionaire. If they found his ward, surely he'd give them some kind of reward. It was rumored of how good he was in bed. . .

They searched high and low. Peaking around every corner, some even looking under tables. But no one could find the missing boy.

One by one, the returned empty handed. Bruce's nerves grew, his eyes darting around in search for his ward. Where could the boy have gone? Why did he bring him in the first place? Sure, Dick had really wanted to come, but he should have known this was no place for a kid.

"Bruce!" a cheerful voice cried out.

Bruce jerked his head in the direction of the cry, eyes lighting up.

"Dick!" He rushed over to the boy, scooping the small body into his arms and pulling him into a hug.

Beaming, Dick hugged back.

"Where did you go? I've been worried sick! Don't you ever run off like that again, am I clear?" Bruce rambled, pulling back to frown at the confused boy.

"I was just over there." He turned, pointing towards the restrooms. Bruce relaxed, feeling slightly embarrassed. He remembered now. "I told you I had to use the bathroom."

"Still, what took you so long?"

At this, Dick smiled. "As I was coming back, a lady started talking to me. I showed her my cartwheel! She was very nice. She gave me candy!"

"And where is this candy?" he asked suspiciously.

"I ate it. Here." Dick pulled out candy wrapper, and Bruce relaxed some. "She also said you should take me home."

Bruce nodded. "She's probably right. You ready to go home?"

The boy's hands tightened over Bruce's shirt, bunching the material. His voice was solemn, eyes diverted. "No. This reminds me of home."

It took Bruce a moment to register the statement. At first he was confused: the manor was usually pretty quiet. Here, he could hardly hear himself think.

Then it clicked.

The lights, the people, the closeness, the happiness. This place, although far from it, reminded Dick of the circus.

"Okay. Just a few more minutes," Bruce settled.

Dick beamed, closing his eyes and resting his head on the man's shoulder. A few more minutes. He could pretend for a few more minutes.

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