Robin one shot part 3!

Writer's block can suck my cock

I'm very annoyed but heyho cest la vie

peachrcses is really trying to pull me out of writer's block and theirs are fast to write

Also, Dick is like 6 in this

EDIT: TW BRIEF MENTION OF BLOOD

Dick sniffled and clutched at Bruce's pant leg. "Dick, I have to go," Bruce insisted, trying to hide the heartbreak in his voice. If this weren't such an important meeting, Bruce would've refused to travel but this was essential. The investor was always a tricky one and insisted on doing business within their own city. The trip would keep the billionaire from his newly fostered ward for the next three days. "But you promised you wouldn't leave me," the boy whined.

"I'm not leaving forever. It's just a few days," he assured him. "And Alfred is going to take care of you too."

"You promise you'll come back?" Dick asked glancing up at the older. His eyes were wet with tears as he stared up at him. 

"I promise chum. I'll call you every day whilst I'm away and I'll bring you back something as long as you're good whilst I'm away." The boy nodded and finally released his grip on Bruce's pant leg. He wiped at his face and began fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. "Alfred's going to take good care of you. I'll be back before you know it." Bruce gave him a hug tight hug before waving goodbye to the pair of them. Dick waved goodbye sadly and looked up to the butler. Alfred took pity on him and picked him up, keeping him close. "No need to worry young master, he'll be just fine," he responded

"You promise?" 

"I promise," he assured him. "Now it's getting rather late. How about you run upstairs and get changed whilst I get you something warm to help you sleep?" The boy nodded, still sniffling to himself as he went upstairs.

It wasn't often that Bruce went away for business and Dick wasn't used to them. Despite Alfred telling him beforehand that the little practice would bite him later. He warmed up some milk in a saucepan and poured it into a mug. He didn't make it too warm but it was enough to get the young boy to relax. God knows he needed it. Alfred worried that this night would be one of the countless nightmares. The scenes of something so horrific would flash through. From what Dick said, it was disorientating and terrifying all together. There'd be blood, bodies, crowds, police cars. Nothing that could be focused on but it freaked him out all the same. Alfred felt sorry for him. He couldn't imagine how tiring it would be to have them as frequently as Dick had. How the boy managed to have boundless amounts of energy was a mystery. He picked up the mug of warm milk and went upstairs. Alfred gently knocked on the boy's door before walking in. Dick had started crying again and was now trying to desperately cover the evidence. "Oh Master Dick, are you alright?" he asked, putting the cup of milk on the bedside table.

"I just miss him," Dick replied. "He's supposed to tuck me in n tell me a story." His breath hitched as he wiped at his eyes too roughly for the butler's liking. The older pulled his hands away from his face and swiped his thumb across his red cheeks. "Come now sir, there's no need to cry. Get comfortable and you can drink your warm milk then it's straight to bed." Dick took the mug in his tiny hands and took a sip, instantly feeling much better.

Once Dick had drunk the mug's contents, Alfred took it from him and began to walk out the room when he felt his pant leg get tugged on. He turned back to the bed to see the young acrobat giving him a pleading look. "Won't you tell me a story?" he asked.

"I don't really do stories," Alfred lied. He used to tell such wonderful stories when Bruce was a child but it'd been a long time. By now, all his stories that he used to tell nightly were long gone and he could hardly remember any of them. Dick would only grow bored of him. "Please? It doesn't have to be one you made up," he begged. Unable to say no to those wet blue eyes, Alfred sighed. He sat on the edge of the bed, putting the mug on the bedside table, and made sure the boy was tucked in. "Alright, just give me a moment." He thought about what he could say then decided on a suitable story. "There once was a boy who had everything he could've wanted. His family was quite wealthy and had many businesses that would assure their son would remain wealthy too. The boy had two loving parents, wonderful holidays and birthdays, and a butler who he trusted with his life."

"Was the boy happy?" Dick asked, his voice quiet.

"Quite so. He stayed very happy for many years until his twelfth year."

"What happened?"

"One night, the boy and his parents went to the theatre. As they walked out, they chose to walk down an alley but it was late at night and Gotham alleys are no place for anyone after dark. A man jumped out from the shadows, armed with a gun and malice intent." Dick gasped. "He demanded the mother's pearls and the father's Rolex. Even when given what he wanted, the man shot the boy's poor parents and left him alone in the alley with their bodies."

"That's awful! Why would you tell me that?" 

"I have yet to finish the tale," Alfred assured him. "The boy was distraught over the loss of his parents. His butler tried and failed to bring him out of the depression but nothing seemed to work. The boy grew into a stern man. A man known to Gotham as the orphan billionaire. His butler lost hope that he'd once again see the boy he'd helped care for."

"Did he stay like that?"

"No. One night, whilst he was reading in the library, a thought struck the man. Gotham was in need of a hero and the man wanted to be that hero. A bat happened to pass by at that time and the man knew who he wanted to be. He would be Batman. Over time he trained and trained until he could protect the city he'd grown up in."

"Did that make him go back to normal?" Dick asked. The butler shook his head. 

"He became sterner to deal with the harsh life of a vigilante. It wasn't until he saved a child that he softened. The child had also lost his parents tragically and the man felt sympathy for him. It was at that moment, the time when the man felt that sympathy, that the butler saw the true return of the boy he'd raised," he explained. The acrobat yawned and rubbed at his eye tiredly. 

"Do you think I changed after my parents dying?" he asked, struggling to stay awake. Alfred hummed and brushed through his hair with his fingers. 

"I didn't know you before their passing but I'm quite sure you're a lovely lad who will certainly grow up to be a kind man. One the butler wished his master to be." Dick smiled and drifted off to sleep. The older stayed in the room for a few minutes, watching him sleep, and collected the mug left on the cabinet before leaving the room. He'd keep an ear out for the boy but he hoped the story would ease him into a fairly peaceful sleep.