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Nine days before his ninth birthday, Dick Grayson's parents crashed to their deaths on a dirt-covered cement floor on the outskirts of Gotham City. The boy was immediately claimed by the Department of Child Services. He bounced around from orphanages, to foster homes, to group homes for nearly a year.
Eight days before Dick's tenth birthday, Bruce Wayne was granted legal guardianship. Dick moved into the imposing Wayne Manor with a quiet butler and a busy CEO. He rarely spoke more than a sentence or two to either of them for a full six months, and that was only to answer questions. He never volunteered information or started a conversation. It was in the seventh month that he began to come out of his shell.
Seven days before his eleventh birthday, Dick was kidnapped for the first time. He heard the criminals ask for two million dollars when they were on the phone with Bruce. Dick was sure it was too much, and he resigned himself to never seeing Bruce or Alfred again. But then Batman showed up to rescue him, and Batman became Dick's hero.
Six days before his twelfth birthday, Dick found out that Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same person. He discovered an entire cave hidden underneath Wayne Manor, and he was immediately sworn to secrecy. It was a secret he vowed to keep forever, no matter what.
Five days before his thirteenth birthday, he put on a Robin-suit for the first time. His exuberance about being able to fight crime worried Batman, but he allowed it anyway. It was better for the child to be with him instead of sneaking out on his own, which the Caped Crusader knew he would eventually decide to do.
Four days before his fourteenth birthday, Robin was nearly beaten to death with a baseball bat. The choice he was forced to make was an impossible one, and the villain tricked him. That incident rattled both heroes, and Robin was almost retired.
Three days before his fifteenth birthday, Dick learned something new about the foster system. When he reached the ripe old age of eighteen, he was going to 'age out'. During his social worker's annual visit, he asked what that meant. She answered that Bruce Wayne would no longer be obligated to take care of him. That word – obligated – hit him like a semi-truck. It was a word not easily forgotten.
Two days before his sixteenth birthday, he asked Alfred to teach him how to cook. It was something he would have to know how to do when he aged out of Wayne Manor, but he didn't mention that part to Alfred. He also started quietly observing the butler as the old man did laundry and cleaned the house. All skills he would soon need.
One day before his seventeenth birthday, Dick decided that he wasn't going to go to college. Since he would be out on his own after graduation – or earlier, if Bruce decided to un-obligate himself on Dick's actual birthday – he wouldn't have enough money to go to college. It wasn't something he had been dreaming about, anyway, so it didn't bother him that much.
On his eighteenth birthday, Dick was relieved when Bruce didn't immediately tell him to leave. The man didn't say anything about it, so the teenager just assumed that he was allowed to stay until he graduated. He was grateful, so he said thank you. Bruce gave him a weird look while nodding his head in acknowledgement.
"Why did he say thank you?" Bruce asked Alfred after Dick left for school.
"I'm not the one you should be asking, sir," the wise butler replied. Changing the subject, he inquired, "Do you have anything special planned for today, Master Bruce?"
"No, should I?"
"It is Master Dick's eighteenth birthday, sir."
"I know."
Alfred stared at him for a moment, attempting to decide whether or not to say anything.
"What?" Bruce asked, wondering why his butler's gaze was making him feel uncomfortable.
"Eighteen is a big milestone, Master Bruce," Alfred finally stated.
"Has he said anything to you? Does he want a party or something?"
"No, sir, he has not mentioned anything like that to me. However, I did find something in his room while I was cleaning. I'm certain that he didn't expect either of us to see it, Master Bruce."
Alfred pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket. Smoothing it out, he handed it to the millionaire.
"Things to do before I age out," Bruce read aloud. "Age out?" he asked, glancing at his butler.
"When Master Dick was almost fifteen, I heard him ask his social worker what that meant, sir. I was passing by, not eavesdropping, so I don't know what answer she gave him. Do you know what it means, Master Bruce?"
"No, but it's obviously something about the system if he asked his social worker about it."
"I took the liberty of looking it up, sir. When a child in the foster system turns eighteen, he is no longer in the system. He is considered an adult, ready to be on his own. The foster parents or group home directors or…" Alfred paused for a moment.
"Or?" Bruce asked.
With a quiet sigh, the butler continued, "Or guardians, sir. They are no longer obligated – that is the word in the handbook – to take care of the child."
"Obligated?!" Bruce almost shouted. "Do you think she used that word?"
"It is a possibility, Master Bruce, since she knows the handbook."
"So for three years he's had in his head that I'm going to kick him out at eighteen," Bruce mused to himself. "That's why he said thank you, and that's why he looked so relieved."
"That is a heavy burden for a young man to carry, sir. Especially for such a long time."
Bruce looked down at the paper again.
"Learn how to cook and do laundry," he read. "Find a job and look for a place to stay. Decide on a career that doesn't involve going to college."
Bruce paused, then continued, "Why wouldn't he go to college?"
"Master Bruce, he knows that if you 'kick him out' he will not have the resources to go to college."
"But I'm not kicking him out!"
"Master Dick doesn't know that, sir. As you said, it's what he's been expecting for the last three years."
"He's not an obligation," Bruce growled, "he's my son."
"Legally, sir, he is your ward," Alfred gently reminded the younger man.
Dick stayed after school for almost an hour, doing some research in the library. He was looking through the job ads in the daily newspaper while also reading about technical careers that didn't require a degree. When he returned to Wayne Manor, he had a short list in his pocket. The one that sounded most interesting to him – and most relevant to his current life – was being a police officer. Robin was already doing that at night; it made sense for Dick Grayson to do it during the day.
Suddenly, Dick had a thought that stopped him in his tracks. There would be no more Robin after he graduated. He wouldn't have access to the Batcave after aging out, and he wasn't sure he was ready to go solo. Not as Robin, anyway. Robin was too recognizable in Gotham City, and it would be weird to have both Batman and Robin patrolling, but not working together.
Dick decided he would have to look through the paper again tomorrow. But this time his focus would be on cheap apartments instead of jobs. There had to be some inexpensive ones in some of the seedier parts of the city, like Crime Alley. He could live in Crime Alley.
When he arrived at the Manor twenty minutes later, Bruce was there to greet him at the door.
"Hi," the man said quietly.
"Um, hi," Dick replied, confused as to why Bruce was both there and speaking softly.
"Happy birthday."
"Thanks."
Bruce sounded weird, like something heavy was on his mind but he was trying to put it off for now so he could tell Dick happy birthday. And now they were standing there, just staring at each other.
"Uh, is there something wrong?" Dick finally asked.
"Yes," Bruce grunted.
"Okaaaaay," Dick prompted after thirty seconds of silence.
"I…"
Another long moment of silence. It was unnerving. And then Dick realized what the man was trying to say. 'Happy birthday' was another way of saying 'it's time for you to leave'.
"Can I have a couple of hours to pack and stuff?" Dick asked. "I'm not ready. I mean, I should be, because now I'm eighteen and I'm officially aged out but I guess I misunderstood because this morning it seemed like you were saying I could stay until after I graduate but I get it if you don't want me to. I mean, I haven't always been the best kid and you're probably pretty tired of everything I've done wrong but if you'll just give me an hour or two I'll be out of your hair."
The words were quick but understandable. When he finished, Dick waited for an answer, trepidation filling his eyes. But Bruce was just standing there, gaping at him. Something akin to shock was in the man's dark-blue eyes, but Dick thought he could see an outline of relief. Maybe Bruce hadn't known that Dick knew about aging out of the system, so now he was relieved because he wouldn't have to explain it.
"No," Bruce finally responded.
"Um, okay, but I only have my school stuff in my backpack. Can I at least…"
"That's not what I mean," Bruce said sharply, cutting him off. "No as in no, you haven't aged out because that's not what we are."
"Uh, yes we are. You're my guardian and I'm your ward which makes me part of the foster system – well, not anymore because I aged out today – but that's…"
"No," the man repeated firmly.
Dick dropped his backpack on the ground, completely confused.
"I…don't understand," he admitted softly.
"Richard John Grayson, you are not my ward."
"Oh," Dick replied, dropping his head as tears filled his eyes.
Bruce didn't even consider him part of the family anymore. Well, he was aging out today, so he guessed that made sense because – technically – he wasn't part of Bruce's family anymore.
"You are my son," Bruce stated gently.
Dick was sure he had misheard the man. He wasn't a son, he was a ward. The legal papers specifically said that. And by Bruce's name it didn't say dad, it said guardian.
"Dick, look at me, please."
The eighteen-year-old quickly ran his hand down his face to erase any evidence of weakness before lifting his head. Bruce was holding up a single piece of paper.
"What is this?" Dick asked.
"Take it," Bruce replied.
Dick carefully took the paper out of his guardian's hand. He didn't even need to start reading, because the large title at the top told him exactly what it was: Application for Legal Adoption.
Bruce watched his son's face go from sorrow to confusion to disbelief. Had Dick really thought he was going to be kicked out once he turned eighteen?! The man couldn't believe he had missed something so big. Dick usually wasn't good at hiding emotions, but he had been able to hide this one for three years.
"Bruce, I…"
"Dick," the millionaire interrupted, "I never wanted you to feel like I was trying to replace your parents. I was worried that showing you this, asking you about it, would cause you more pain. Obviously, I couldn't do it when you were little, when everything was so fresh."
"When did you…?"
"Look at the date, chum."
Dick stared down at the numbers. It was today's date, but seven years ago. His eyes widened in shock and he slowly raised his head.
"The first time you were kidnapped scared me half to death. I got that ransom call, and I had no idea who had taken you, and I was close to panicking. Alfred was the one who straightened my head out and helped Batman find you. When I saw you tied to that chair…"
Bruce paused, and Dick was surprised to see the man's eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I was so relieved, but so angry. Someone had dared to take you and I had never even told you…"
He paused again and cleared his throat.
"You didn't even know how I felt about…you…us…our family. And they could have killed you, and I never would have been able to tell you. So, I started the process. But you were so traumatized because of the memories you were forced to face when they took you to the circus grounds, and I felt like everything was too fresh again for you. So, I didn't say anything. I should have, but I didn't. And then, for some reason, it just got harder and harder to find a way to bring it up."
"Bruce, I don't understand."
"What is there to not understand, chum? I would like to adopt you, if you're okay with it. Again, I want you to know that I am not trying to – I could never – replace your parents."
"I mean, I don't understand why. Why would you want to adopt me?"
Bruce raised his eyebrows, and his jaw almost dropped open in disbelief. He knew what he should say, but he couldn't quite get the words out.
"I mean, I know that Robin is helpful to Batman, but what has Dick Grayson done to make Bruce Wayne want to adopt him? I've never done anything that would make anyone want to do that."
"You…"
Bruce was speechless. Dick didn't think he was worth adopting?!
"That's…Dick, that's so wrong."
"Then why wait seven years? Why 'start the process' and then just ignore that you started it because, for some reason you can't explain, bringing it up just got more difficult?"
Dick's voice was hard, but it was trembling noticeably.
"I…don't know," Bruce sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I should have just done it when I started it. I just…didn't want to offend you or upset you."
"So it's my fault you didn't do it?!" Dick asked loudly.
"No, chum, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I really am. It was stupid of me to wait."
"When I was fifteen, or close enough, I heard a kid at school tell her friend that she was aging out of the foster system. I had no idea what that meant, so I asked Judith the next time she came for her yearly visit. She said that when I turned eighteen, you would no longer be obligated to take care of me. That was the first time I thought…well, I discovered that I was an obligation."
"You were never an obligation," Bruce refuted.
"That's basically what she said, and I believed her because she knew the system. I had never thought of it that way, but it made sense. You weren't really my dad, and I wasn't really your son, so I was going to age out of your home in three years."
"It's your home, too," the man said quietly.
There was a long pause as both of them tried to get their emotions under control. After almost five minutes, Bruce broke the silence.
"Will you…I mean, do you want to…"
"Yes," Dick responded softly. "I would be honored to be called your son."
"No, Dick, the honor is mine. You are the strongest, most resilient, most courageous, and most optimistic person I know. I don't deserve to be called your father…"
"Shut up," Dick said with a watery grin as tears raced down his cheeks.
He stepped into Bruce's waiting arms and hugged him as if it was the last thing he would ever do.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"I love you…son," Bruce replied.
THE END