Disclaimer- *blinks* Who? Me? I'm just an innocent fanfic writer who enjoys twisting Robin's past. If I did own Young Justice, every season would be a different twist on Robin's past (just a thought).

Okay, I know it took me a long time but I just lost interest. I actually considered deleting this fanfic but obviously I didn't. lol I hope you guys don't hate me!

News: I now have a Twitter account under the name Tears of the Moon 17! Now if you follow me there, you'll know how I'm doing with writing and you can ask me questions!

Chapter 13

Bruce had always had this sixth sense, a sense that even he couldn't explain. He had had it for as long as he could remember but couldn't explain the effect on his mind. It was like it poked at him, whispering hints of some impending event that would change his life in some way. It was a tease, I guess you could say. It would warn him but never tell him what he was being warned of.

Just like the night of his parents' deaths.

His sixth sense had come to him that morning, stroking his ears and murmuring of an event he would remember forever. But Bruce, being a child, brushed off the tingles that were sent down his spine and smiled at his parents. After all, his parents would protect him if anything bad were to happen.

Only later did Bruce realize that he should have worried about his parents and not himself. He should have told his parents that he had a bad feeling that day or lied, telling a tale of having a cold. He should have done everything in his power to prevent his beloved mother and father from leaving the mansion. He should have listened to his sixth sense and stayed home with his parents instead of insisting on going to that play.

He should have learned to trust his sixth sense.

But that was all in the past now and Bruce had moved on, finally accepting that the incident wasn't his fault. Yes, he had moved on and had a wonderful family. Sure, his family was made up of a father-like butler and a teenaged acrobat but they were still his family, family that he trusted to not kill him in his sleep.

Family . . . When had that word become such a heart-warming word? Before, it had been a word that Bruce avoided and hated with all his being. Before, it had merely been a word that slapped him in the face every time it reached his ears. Before, that word had been a bitter reminder of what he had lost and no longer had.

Before . . . Dick came.

Oh, what a bittersweet memory that was. Having experienced his parents death just like Bruce, Dick had been swept into Wayne Mansion like a summer breeze and warmed the house with his childishness. His big, blue eyes had filled the house with awe and his laughter had shattered the silence that had haunted the house. Dick had changed everything for the better and had wormed his way into Bruce's and Alfred's hearts. He had sanded their rough edges and brought out the best in them. He had made what had been two people into a small, tight-knit family that no longer knew sadness.

But it had come at the price of Dick's parents.

That's where the bitterness came in. For all that Dick had changed for the better, it had come at the price of growing up with his parents by his side. Dick would never know if his parents would have decided to give him a sibling or not. He would never know if his parents would have been proud of his gift for technology. He would never know if they would agree with what college he would go to.

He would never know anything.

Bruce tried not to think of those things because when he did, he would feel a twinge of guilt for having Dick in his life. Bruce didn't like feeling like he had somehow taken Dick from under his parents' noses. He didn't like feeling as if he was glad that John and Mary Grayson had died and left him their son.

No, he didn't like what that implied at all.

He was happy that Dick was in his life. Period. He would always feel that way and would make sure that Dick would remain happy. Period.

Apparently, Dick hadn't felt the same.

When Bruce woke up this morning, his sixth sense had stirred and sent chills down his arms. But Bruce ignored his sixth sense and went to check up on Dick . . . Just in case. It wasn't like his sixth sense was warning him of some impending doom that involved Dick.

At that thought, chills eased down Bruce's spine as if to disagree with his inner musings. Feeling a twinge of fear deep inside his heart, Bruce's pace quickened as he neared Dick's bedroom door.

Dick is in bed, Dick is in bed, Dick is in bed.

Bruce chanted that single phrase to convince himself that everything was completely fine and normal. After all, why wouldn't Dick be in bed? It was five in the morning and Dick liked to sleep in until six. So, yes, Dick was most definitely in bed.

But when Bruce opened the door and looked inside, Dick's bed was made and there was no sign of him. Even though Dick could be downstairs, Bruce somehow knew the truth.

Dick was gone.

And it wasn't by force.

Feeling an emotion he couldn't describe, Bruce felt his throat closing as he sat on Dick's bed. Where could he have gone? And why? Why would Dick leave without-

Bruce's eyes landed on a single piece of white paper that was folded in half. Desperate for anything to wipe away his theories, Bruce quickly unfolded the paper and read two, black words.

Mount Justice.

A/N- Cruel, I know but I can't help it. Please review! Oh and please follow me on Twitter! If you do that, you'll be plugged in into what I'm writing and stuff. This was published on 6-15-12 (in my time zone) with the length of 1,055 words.