Disclaimer: If I owned Batman, would this be a fanfiction? No? Didn't think so. It's not mine. So there!

Jagged lightning slashed against the sky, followed by a looming, growling thunder. Rain attacked the windows of Wayne Manor, beating harshly on the glass making ice-sharp sounds. Every flash of bluish white light lit the rooms and halls, casting eerie shadows for a spit-second before darkness reclaimed its spot.

A figure silently made his way down the hall, reluctantly flinching whenever the low thunder made itself heard. The raven-haired boy clenched his teeth whenever thunder rolled in to keep from squeaking in fear, and his hands squeezed his shoulders as he shivered.

The small boy jumped as an exceptionally loud roar echoed throughout the Manor, and he mentally scolded himself. He was training with the Bat! He shouldn't show fear for a stupid harmless storm! But… the Manor was so big and empty and it was so close to that day… he felt that he'd be left alone… again.

He was only nine. His parents were murdered last year; four days from now would mark that anniversary. A mix of thunder and nightmares awoke the young boy, and he felt the reluctant fear of abandonment when he opened his eyes to his much-too-large dark room. The inky black was stained with the invisible crimson of blood, and bodiless screams still echoed from the horrid dream-memory. Storms were never his strong suit, either.

"Bruce?" he whispered, pausing at the doorway of the large study. The light was on, gleaming softly, but other than that, no sign of life revealed itself. He got no response and sighed, turning around on his heel. He pursed his lips and realized where the Dark Knight would be.

"The Batcave!" he concluded. He jumped as the brightest flash yet lit up the hall. For a split-second, you could see a frightened look melt over the Boy Wonder's face. The brief light showed the forming tears that laced his sapphire eyes and cold sweat that was still lingering on his forehead.. He yelped as the loud, harmless noise shattered the sky above him. The small form hopped on one foot and dashed down the hall, wiping the fallen tears off of his pale face with the back of his hand.

He skidded to a halt just in front of old faithful Alfred, who was wandering by on some mysterious business, most likely returning from checking up on Master Bruce.

"Master Richard, what are you doing up so late?" he asked kindly, noting the half-frustrated half-scared look plastered on the boy's face.

Dick shuffled his feet. "I uh…. Don't tell Bruce…?" he finally asked, eyes wide.

A smile formed across Alfred's face. "Of course not, Young Master." He assured

"I-I'm scared," Dick whispered. "Mămica and tăti used to tell me it was all right… but they're not here… an-and I-I'm lonely," his bright blue eyes leaked more of the clear tears as he spoke of his parents.

"Young Master, there's nothing to be afraid of," Alfred said softly, patting Richard's shoulder gently and wiping his tears. "But Master Bruce is in the Batcave, if you wish to see him."

Dick nodded. "Thank you, Alfred," he responded, running off from his grandfatherly-like figure.

The little bird slowed once he entered the Batcave. He was still crying. Why he mentioned his parents so close to that day, he didn't know. What he did know was that he needed his father. He needed Bruce.

He silently walked across the cold ground, the chill making his bare feet itch. He rubbed his arms, for he only had on a grey t-shirt that was too large and long sweatpants. The soft clacking of the Batcomputer key reassured that Bruce was there.

"B-Bruce?" Richard asked, voice raspy with fear and grief. The clicking faltered a little.

"Dick? Why aren't you sleeping?" Bruce asked, swiveling in his chair. He was still in Bat-mode with the cowl down, his signature frown morphing into a line for his ward. Richard rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand and stifled a yawn.

"I…I got scared," he muttered. "Mămica and tăti are usually there…" more tears fell from his beautiful eyes and a twinge of empathy tugged at Bruce's heart.

"You know a storm can't hurt you," he stated. Dick frowned and nodded, obviously trying not to let his shoulders shake.

"Y-yeah… but mămica was always-s… always th-there… an-and she isn't," he repeated, ending in a whimper. Bruce sighed inwardly as he couldn't resist those tear-filled eyes. He opened his arms and Dick scampered onto his lap, letting out a whimper and clutching the Batman's cape as if life itself depended on it.

"It's ok, Dick," Bruce soothed, rubbing the boy's back. "The storm will go away. You can't even hear it down here very well,"

Richard shook his head. "N-not th-that!" he sobbed. "W-why d-d-did th-they leave m-m-me?"

At first, Bruce didn't get who he was talking about. Then it hit him. In four days, it would be April 1st, the day his little bird lost his only family. His mother, father, aunt, uncle, and cousin fell to their deaths. Well, his namesake uncle was comatose, therefore unable to care for his nephew.

"D-d-did I-I do s-something wr-wrong?" Dick continued. He was like this when he first had the nightmares, when Bruce took him in. At least he wasn't full out blaming himself for their deaths like he had done for such a long while.

"No, Dick, you didn't do anything wrong," Bruce comforted, hugging the boy tighter as he buried his head into his shoulder. "They didn't want to leave you. You did nothing wrong,"

"St-storms re-remind m-me of th-them… tăti always t-told m-m-me n-not to b-be scared…" the boy whispered, sobs subsiding. "B-but I'm sc-scared… and they left me…"

"Richard, look at me," Bruce ordered gently, raising the boy's chin. "They didn't leave you because you were scared. Tony Zucco took them away from you. It wasn't your fault,"

Dick's sapphire eyes were still streaming tears. "D-daddy, are y-you gonna l-leave m-m-me?"

Bruce's heart practically melted. Richard called him 'daddy'. He hasn't done that ever since his first nightmare when he was eight and half-asleep.

"No, my little bird," he whispered. "I'll never leave you," Richard sniffed and pressed against his 'father', shivering. Bruce enveloped the boy again, hushing his sobs.

"I'll always be there for you,"

A/N: Yeh, I have no idea how this morphed from Storm to angsty Grayson-death-memory. I'm not really happy with the end (or the story itself, for that matter…). Methinks it's cheesy. Then again, I watched the Batman from 1966 with Adam West and Burt Ward (that his name, right?) as Bats and Rob. And I'm rewatching it because it's an awesome movie. Yep. Review! Or go on your merry way and eat a waffle. Either way, you'll be satisfied.