Alrighty. So here is another old story that made me very proud. Reading over it again it's... eh. It wasn't meant to have a whole lot of chapters to it, but I tend to put in a lot of words. Again, please ignore any typos you come across, or if they really bother you send me a PM and I'll fix it! ^-^

Hope you guys like it ; I'll be updating this often!

Reviews shall be loved and hugged.

I do not own any of these characters.

The aromas from the kitchen were slowly making their way to the living room. Plates and trays of food were being put on the long table of the dining room. Both chairs however were empty.

Alfred looked around with a small frown. Wiping his hands on a clean white towel, he walked through the kitchen in very precise steps. The butler placed the rag on the counter before padding into the living room. Once he was in the large and well decorated room, he paused at the doorway, looking in.

"Master Dick?" He called out in a soft voice.

A small ebony-haired boy poked his head up from the couch. His bright blue eyes exposed as he played his normal, billionaire kid look. A small smile curved on his face.

"What's up, Al?" He asked, turning around so he was on his knees on the couch. His hands gripped the back of the couch.

"Dinner is prepared. Do you know if Master Bruce will be joining you?" The English man asked, unmoving from the doorway.

Dick shook his head.

"I think he said he had an interview today. I didn't really pay attention." The boy explained, trying to think back. "I'm pretty sure he walked in and told me that, but I was watching TV or something, so I was only half listening." He added a little smirk at the end of the sentence.

Alfred smiled slightly and nodded.

"Then dinner will be waiting for you at the table." The elderly man then turned to leave, but he paused once again. "Try not to get there late and have to reheat it again." He instructed, before disappearing down the hallway.

The raven-haired boy kept the same smile on his face as he watched him go. He then grabbed the back of the couch firmly and jumped over it, landing on his feet easily. As he walked out, the boy turned and came back, picking up the remote and flipping through the channels until he found the right one. He paused and watched, smiling.

On the screen was a very well groomed man sitting next to a slightly older one. They both were seated at a dark brown table, with matching brown chairs.

Dick admired the younger of the two. The man was composed and calm. He also was good-natured and kind; not half bad looking either. He had jet black hair with almost matching dark brown eyes. He wore a black suit and black tie with a white undershirt. He was just perfect; a perfect business man, a perfect idol, and perfect man.

The billionaire's son was turning around and starting towards the dining room as the two started talking.

"And today we have with us, Mr. Bruce Wayne, owner of the Wayne Tech Company. It's an honor to have you here."

It was all quiet as Dick sat on the couch, watching the continuing interview. He yawned and rubbed an eye as he watched. It was nearing 8 P.M, but he had had a long day, so he was pretty tired. What kept him awake was the wanting to be here when Bruce got back. The boy didn't know why he always had to stay awake until his 'dad' came. He never really tried to find out either or talk to anyone about it. He didn't mind.

"Mr. Wayne, now that we've covered out business part and how things are going at your company. How is your house life? Have things been going just as well there?"

"To be honest Ryan, I think things have been better at home than Wayne Tech-"

"And that goes for your son too?"

Here, Dick leaned in more. He put his elbows on his legs, his back was forward and down as his eyes stared intently at the television.

"Richard has been great. Getting good grades, staying out of trouble for the time being."

"And as we come near the anniversary of Mary and John Grayson's death in the tragic acrobat accident that happened almost five years ago, how is he coping with that? Does he talk about his parents often?"

"Talking about his parents is a touchy subject, as expected. We haven't talked about his parents, because if this, but usually on the anniversary, he's more open about it."

Bruce's answer went on, but Dick's listening was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. It was abrupt and suddenly, which almost made the raven-haired boy jump from the sound. But he quickly regained his composer and glanced up at the door as Alfred walked up to it.

The blue-eyed boy watched as the English butler opened it up. Dick could sense his confusion as he looked at the guest at the door.

"Excuse me; do you have an appointment with Master Bruce?"

And then, a loud shot.

The butler fell from his standing position as blood stained his shirt.

"Alfred!" Dick screamed, watching him as he fell with shocked face and wide eyes. Although he didn't have much time before about six men dressed in black entered through the door. They all carried weapons, some of them were bats, others were pistols. Black ski masks covered their faces with eye and mouth holes cut out.

"Grab the kid and anything else you can find!" One of the intruders ordered in a harsh voice. The group split up, but they soon realized something was missing.

Where was the billionaire's son?

Dick tore through the hallway of the upstairs room. He had to get to a phone. He had to call for help. He had to call Bruce. It wasn't long before he heard the loud footsteps and the crashing of furniture as the thugs ripped apart the mansion. Although the raven-haired boy's heart was racing from the race for the phone, his thoughts turned to Alfred and he felt sick. No one had ever had to even tried to hurt the butler before and watching him get shot down was something Dick never wanted to see.

As Richard turned the corner, he came face to face with a group of the intruders. He skidded to halt and barely had time to turn down into another hallway before one of the men tried to come down on him with his bat.

The raven-haired boy then took another turn into his room, closing the door as he did. He then quickly whipped around and turned the handle lock.

Almost the second he did, there was a loud bang against the door that almost made Dick think that it was just going to snap in two. The banging continued and Bruce Wayne's son was getting desperate. He was tearing through his clothes and messy desk, searching for his cell phone.

"Come out you little shit!" He heard an angry screech from outside of the room.

No doubt if they got in here Dick would be in some serious trouble. Just then, he realized he had charged his phone and it was plugged into the wall next to the closet. He dove for the closet and shoved clothes and papers out of the way. Finally, he reached his phone and quickly put it into speed dial.

There then was a louder bang and a small cracking noise.

The blue-eyed blue looked frantically at the door and his heart started racing even more. The wood was snapping. It wouldn't last much longer.

"Dick? What is it?" A voice cut the boy from his glance. Hope jolted into his heart. Bruce had picked up!

"Bruce we have an emergency!" Dick tried to explain as fast as he could. With every thud there was an equally loud crack that followed it.

"These guys broke into the house, they shot Alfred, and they have me cornered!" He shouted, panic thick in his voice, more about the Alfred part than him going to be kidnapped.

"Hold on, I'm on my way now. Where are you?" Bruce's voice came calmly and steadily over the phone, although Richard could sense the rushed tone.

Almost like he was running.

"I'm in my room, trapped. Bruce you have to get to Alfred! He was shot!" The boy cried out as he repeated himself. Then, a loud snap was heard and Dick had barely enough time to look up before he was tackled over by a flurry of black-dressed men.

"No! Let me fucking go!" The 13 year-old screamed at the thugs. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder as he felt the familiar wood of a baseball bat hit him. There was another blow to his knee cap as he tried to kick out.

"Dick! Dick! ….Richard!" could be faintly heard from the boy's phone.

"Bruce!" Dick struggled to yell. Both arms were pinned behind in his back. Pain was starting to come apparent as he felt more blows inflicted on him.

He then felt his body being pulled up to his feet, although it was extremely painful to put weight on his leg. But that didn't keep the raven-haired boy from fighting. He shook his body violently, trying to tug free. He bit one of the men on the arm. He felt blood in his mouth as he did this. He stayed like that, trying to get free, until a hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.

Dick looked up just in time to see a brown blur come across his line of vision. A sudden pain came to his head as he felt himself grow weak. Everything was coming to a haze. Time seemed to slow. He barely noticed being dragged down the stairs. He barely saw the glimpse of Alfred as they ran past his passed out body. The last thing Dick saw was the pavement of the driveway; before feeling tiredness take him over.

He then let himself slip unconscious.