Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Bob Kane, Bill Finger, and William Dozier, and various publishers including, but not limited to, DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment, Time Warner, ABC, 20th Century Fox, and Greenway Productions. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

This story is dedicated in loving memory to the bestest kitty in the world
My Mr. Chips
The king of my heart
April 11, 1999 ~ July 31, 2014
I'll love you and miss you forever, you goofball

On Wings of Steel
Chapter 1 – Birds of a Feather

As the school day ends, Dick Grayson, youthful ward of millionaire Bruce Wayne, returns home to stately Wayne manor…

When he entered the foyer, a tingle of excitement ran up Dick's spine as he spotted both his and Bruce's duffle bags sitting next to the hall table. Immediately dropping his backpack next to them, Dick wasted no time in bounding up the stairs to his bedroom.

He quickly changed out of his school clothes, pulling on a pair of blue jeans and his hiking boots. He tugged his favorite red sweatshirt on over his head before grabbing his fall jacket and hurrying back downstairs.

As soon as he stepped off the last riser and into the front hall, Dick smiled to see Bruce emerging from the kitchen. Bruce had a small basket in one hand, which he held up for Dick to see.

"Aunt Harriett made us some sandwiches for the road," Bruce explained. "You're ready already?" he asked, eyeing Dick's change in wardrobe.

"Are you kidding?" Dick asked in excitement. "I've been ready ever since you brought the idea up last month." He bent over, checking his backpack to make sure he had everything he needed in the unlikely case he decided to do some homework.

"I thought you weren't bringing your homework," Bruce observed.

Straightening up, Dick shrugged. "I may get bored, who knows? Besides, you can help me with those overly-complicated algebra problems we're always getting assigned."

"There's nothing complicated about it, Dick," Bruce replied, picking his duffle bag up off the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. "All it takes is some studying, and then you'll have this moment when the light bulb goes on and everything suddenly becomes clear. You're getting there – it's called an epiphany."

"Right," Dick sighed. "Of course, Bruce." He silently wondered just how long it would take him before he reached this great plane of understanding that Bruce was talking about.

"It'll come," Bruce insisted, laying a gentle hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick nodded and smiled, but in truth, that didn't matter to him right then. All that mattered was that he and Bruce were going to spend the entire glorious weekend at the lake, doing nothing but fishing and bird watching. Dick had been hoping for a trip like this with Bruce for quite some time, and he couldn't believe it was actually finally happening. He felt like he and Bruce were really hitting a stride in their relationship, and Dick thought that this might help to bring them even closer together.

Bruce never hesitated to sit down with Dick and help him with his homework or just talk. Truth be told, Dick loved him for it. Ever since he'd lost his parents, Dick had wondered if he'd have this sort of close relationship with an adult ever again. The only other relative Dick had was his Aunt Harriet, and he loved her, but Dick often longed for the relationship he'd had with his father. In many ways, his father had been his best friend. Dick had been a daddy's boy for as long as he could remember, and once that was gone, Dick had been left trying to get used to life with no father figure to turn to.

And then Bruce had entered his life. Not only had Bruce given him (and his Aunt Harriet) a place to live, but he was quickly becoming Dick's best friend. Dick was beginning to look at Bruce as fulfilling that father role that had been missing from his life for so long.

There was only one problem. More often than not, whenever Bruce tried to make plans with Dick, something would happen to spoil them. Bruce was a millionaire, of course, and this brought a lot of responsibilities that he had to take care of. 'Business before pleasure,' as Bruce would often tell him. Dick understood that, and he tried to be as accommodating as possible whenever something came up, and Bruce had to run off. But it hurt.

So many times, Bruce had been ready to take him fishing, or bird watching, or simply to play a game of chess with him. And then Alfred would remind Bruce of some previous engagement he had agreed to, and it would all be over. Dick would be left sitting and waiting around the manor for Bruce to return, watching the hours tick by. More often than not, it would be approaching the wee hours of the morning before Bruce came home, and by then, Dick was almost always asleep.

Dick tried not to be bitter about it, but it was difficult. His father had never bailed out on him the way Bruce did. That, however, really wasn't fair. His father and Bruce were two completely different people, and his father didn't have even a fraction of the same responsibilities. Bruce had a lot to juggle, and he really did do the best he could. But Dick was beginning to feel left out.

This weekend was exactly what they needed. Just the two of them at the lake, and absolutely no phones or butlers to interrupt them. Dick had been hoping for some alone time with Bruce forever, and it was actually happening. If only they could make it out the door before any such thing happened this time, but it was not meant to be.

Just as Dick hoisted his duffle bag from the floor and flung it over his shoulder, there was that awful beeping sound coming from Bruce's study. Dick still wasn't entirely sure what it was, and he wasn't permitted in Bruce's study to investigate it either. Any time Dick tried to question Bruce about it, Bruce quickly brushed him off with some silly and far-fetched explanation, none of which Dick believed. As of late, Bruce kept insisting it was a new-fangled alarm system of some sort for the house that was still being hooked up and had some kinks to work out. This explanation had been going on for several months, and Dick still never saw nor heard anything else about it, other than it didn't entirely work yet. Dick wondered how long it would be until Bruce abandoned that story and came up with another one.

Not that it mattered though. All Dick really knew was that when he heard that dreaded sound, it often came before another one of Bruce's quick and half-explained departures. Yet another reason to believe that it had to be a phone of some sort, one that wasn't connected to the rest of the house. Perhaps some sort of communication device that only millionaires had. But that was silly. Wasn't it?

As if on cue, the door to Bruce's studied opened and Alfred appeared. In a few steps, he had crossed the hall to Bruce, hurriedly whispering something in his employer's ear.

This was it. Bruce was about to once again bail on their plans and disappear to do…whatever it was he did whenever he left the house. Go to some sort of millionaires' meeting or go and count his money at the bank.

Dick was aware of just how bitter and rude his thoughts were. He didn't want to think these obnoxious things about Bruce, the man who was quickly becoming his father and his best friend, but Dick really had little idea of Bruce's life outside the home. Bruce rarely shared that part of his life with anyone, leaving Dick to fantasize about just what did take up so much of his guardian's time.

"Ah, yes, Alfred," Bruce replied, his eyes darting quickly to Dick. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Dick, there's something I need to look after before we leave."

Dick didn't say anything. He simply watched Bruce's retreating back until he disappeared into his study. Dick clenched his teeth and frowned deeply, knowing that their weekend adventure was going to be on hold now. He didn't know why Bruce tried to get his hopes up by acting like this matter would be resolved in a minute or two. More often than not, these things required Bruce's full attention for the foreseeable future.

"Don't worry, Master Dick," Alfred said reassuringly. "I'm sure the two of you will be on your way shortly."

"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said, "but I know that's not the case." He dropped his duffle bag back down to the floor with a plop. "He's probably going to have to go to one of his oh-so-important meetings that absolutely can't wait to talk about millionaire things."

There it was again – that rude and judgmental attitude that Dick really didn't mean to display but couldn't help from coming out just the same. He just hoped he wouldn't say anything quite as impolite to Bruce when the time came. Dick was angry, yes, but he didn't want to hurt Bruce's feelings either. When Dick thought about everything Bruce had provided him with in just the last year or so, it made Dick feel spoiled and selfish to act like it wasn't enough. It was more than enough, more than Dick thought he'd ever have again, but at the same time…he still wished for more. For more time and attention from Bruce.

Dick wondered if he would ever have that. But did he even have a right to want for something like that? Shouldn't he be happy with what he had? Happy that he had a wonderful place to live where he didn't have to ask twice for anything. Except for that coveted alone time with Bruce. All the money and possessions in the world couldn't make up for that deficiency which was becoming very apparent in their relationship.

When Bruce emerged from his study a moment later, Dick knew that his worst fears were about to be confirmed. Bruce's face was long and drawn, and Dick couldn't miss the distinct disappointment and hesitation that was hovering in his eyes. At least Bruce wasn't happy about breaking their plans. At least he seemed as upset about it as Dick was. That was something, wasn't it – that Bruce didn't get some sort of sick thrill from breaking Dick's heart?

"Dick…" Bruce began hesitantly.

"I know," Dick sighed. "Something came up. It's fine. Go."

"Dick…" Bruce tried again, but Dick wasn't having it.

"I said it's fine," Dick repeated. "I know you have responsibilities you need to attend to. Go."

"It isn't fine," Bruce replied adamantly. "I made you a promise about this weekend and I'm very sorry." Gesturing back towards the door of his study, he continued, "I didn't foresee this…particular problem arising right now, but it really requires my immediate attention. It can't be avoided."

"Right," Dick said coldly. "I have algebra to attend to myself, so it works out." Bending down to pick up his backpack from the floor, Dick could feel his cheeks burning red. He really wasn't thrilled with the way he was speaking to Bruce, and he wanted to get out of that foyer as quickly as possible. He was worried that the longer he stayed there, that the more ridiculous stories Bruce tried to feed him, that he might say something he would really regret.

"Dick…" Bruce called, but Dick didn't stop.

Hurrying up the stairs, Dick paused just as soon as he rounded the corner on the second floor and was out of sight. Dick had meant to storm all the way down the hall to his room and slam the door in anger, but something stopped him short.

"Why does this always happen, Alfred?" Bruce's voice drifted up the stairs to him. "I hate letting him down like this, but…I have a responsibility to the citizens of Gotham City too. Unfortunately, there isn't enough time in the day for both. One of them has to give, and I hate leaving him thinking that there's something else that's more important than he is."

Clenching the strap of his backpack tightly, Dick could feel a stinging sensation erupting in his eyes. Was Bruce really implying what Dick thought he was? That Dick, of all things, could be the most important thing in the world?

"Not more important," Alfred told Bruce, "just…more critical. Young Master Dick's life isn't on the line if you cancel your plans with him, but someone else's may be if you don't answer this call."

Dick was a bit too caught up in his own thoughts to really register anything else Bruce and Alfred were saying. Dick's entire world was quickly coming to revolve around Bruce. Could it be that Bruce felt the exact same way about him? Then why didn't he act like it half the time? Why didn't he put Dick first instead of these silly stories he came up with?

"Don't let him eat alone tonight," Bruce said then, breaking Dick out of his thoughts. "I know he'll probably be too angry to even want to come out of his room for dinner, but I'd hate that for him when he looking forward to this weekend so much. Make something nice for him and Aunt Harriet, would you, Alfred? Maybe that will cheer him up."

"Of course, sir."

A moment later, Dick heard the unmistakable sound of Bruce disappearing into this study and the door closing behind him once again. It was then that something hit Dick. It was something that he'd been aware of for quite some time, but he had never really consciously thought about it before. He had always been too consumed with disappointment to give it much thought at all.

Whenever Bruce disappeared into his study after such an exchange…he never reappeared. At least not until hours later. Where did Bruce go? Bruce obviously left the manor, but…how? The study wasn't connected to the garage, but there had to be a way outside. Then again…Dick never saw Bruce departing in his car or the limousine on these occasions either. Just where was Bruce disappearing to and what was he doing when these emergencies arose?

Again, Dick had been aware for quite some time that some fancy footwork was going on, but he had never really paused to think about it in depth. Doing so made his head hurt, but for the first time, Dick began to think about possibly breaking the rules a bit.

He had never even remotely considered doing so before. After all, he respected Bruce, and if Bruce had told him not to do something, then Dick would obey. But Bruce had canceled on him. Again. Didn't that give Dick somewhat of a reason to possibly snoop into what it was his guardian was doing all the time? It really wasn't any of his business. Dick knew that, and he didn't want to betray Bruce's trust, but he was hurt. He didn't know how much longer he could continue to do this – continue to let Bruce off the hook time and time again. Dick was quickly getting sick of it, and he was sick of being kept in the dark about it all too.

Dick hurried down the hall to his room. He placed his backpack on his bed before unzipping it and pulling out his algebra book and notebook. He really had no intention of working on it just then, but he found himself going through the motions for some inexplicable reason anyway. Setting his books down on his desk, he stopped and stared out the window that looked out over the right side of the manor. From his vantage point, he had a perfect view of the garage door and driveway, and he could see if anyone was coming or going.

Dick did this often – stared out his window while he was working on his homework to see if Bruce was coming home. That, however, didn't always work, because as he'd already figured out, Bruce obviously had another way of leaving the mansion, one that didn't involve taking his car or having Alfred drive him in the limousine. But just this one time, Dick stood and stared down at the garage door, waiting for it to open to indicate Bruce's departure.

Dick wasn't even sure of how long he was standing there, waiting and watching for something to happen. Perhaps a half an hour or even longer. But the door to the garage remained closed and unmoving. Dick was silently wishing for it to move, but still, it stayed down, almost like an impenetrable wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Dick knew that if he saw Bruce leave the traditional way, then he would have nothing to investigate. At least not now. That he wouldn't have a reason to disobey his guardian, to break the trust that was becoming so important between him and Bruce.

But still, Dick knew Bruce wasn't being completely honest with him. There were just far too many questions, way too many things that didn't add up. Bruce was hiding something, and the more Dick thought about it, the angrier he became. What good was trust and honesty between the two of them if it didn't go both ways? If Bruce was constantly lying to Dick about what he was doing? Why he had to keep canceling on him? It wasn't fair, not when Dick felt like he was obligated to be as upfront with Bruce as possible.

Then again, Dick supposed that Bruce really didn't owe him anything, did he? Bruce was an adult. He was more than capable of taking care of himself and if he had some secret he was hiding, well that really wasn't anyone's business, was it? Dick, on the other hand, was a child, and as his guardian, Bruce was entitled to the truth from him.

But it still bothered Dick tremendously. He had shared so much with Bruce already, had basically opened up his heart and soul to this new father figure that had walked into his life. Yet, Dick knew that Bruce wasn't doing the same. That he didn't have the same kind of openness with Dick. Didn't Bruce know that he could tell Dick anything? Dick didn't really care what it was his guardian was up to; he simply wanted the truth.

The longer he stood there though, the more minutes ticked by, the more Dick felt compelled to go downstairs and start snooping around. Even though that really wasn't fair to Bruce, Dick felt like he didn't have a choice anymore. If Dick was going to continue to put his trust in Bruce, then he needed to know. He had to know. If Bruce wasn't going to tell him, then Dick was going to find out on his own, even if it did hurt Bruce in the process. Besides, Bruce kept hurting Dick over and over again. It was only fair, wasn't it?

Dick, however, grimaced at this thought. There he was again, acting like a stupid, spoiled child that wasn't getting everything he wanted. God knew that Bruce was giving him more than Dick could ever ask for…except for the truth. Except for that completely open and transparent part of himself that Dick had already given him.

Dick finally picked up his algebra book and notebook from his desk, wrapping his arms around them and holding them closely to his chest. No, he was going to do this. He was going to find out what it was Bruce was hiding from him, consequences be dammed. It was probably the most reckless thing Dick had ever done in his young life, and he supposed that was saying something. He always did what he was told, he had always been a good boy, back when his parents had still been alive and now for Bruce. He really didn't want to chance ruining his relationship with Bruce irreparably, but one had to take chances sometimes, didn't they?

Slowly walking to his bedroom door, Dick pulled it open, glancing up and down and hallway. He swallowed hard before he let himself out, the soles of his boots whispering over the thick, velveteen carpet. Almost as quickly, however, Dick realized how silly he was being. This was his home after all. He was more than welcome to leave his room, to walk about and explore the other rooms if he so wished. The only room he wasn't allowed in, of course, was Bruce's study, and he wasn't anywhere near that. At least, not yet. Why then, did Dick feel like a criminal? Like he was already breaking some sort of rule?

It was because of what he was thinking about doing. About going down there, about opening the door to Bruce's study, and sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. About doing the unthinkable in breaking Bruce's trust. Still, Dick wasn't immediately doing anything wrong. Not now, and he didn't deserve to act like he was.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Dick continued on down the hall, picking up his pace as he went. If Alfred or Aunt Harriet saw him, he'd just say that he was going downstairs to do his homework in the living room. That was perfectly all right. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He wasn't.

In the end, neither his aunt nor the butler stopped him. Dick made it all the way downstairs and into the foyer without running into either one of them. That, however, was when things got a bit tricky. Dick was drawing closer and closer to Bruce's study, to the moment of truth, to the point of no return. Once he broke Bruce's trust in this manner, he knew there was no turning back. Even if he didn't turn anything up in his search, Dick knew that things would be different between him and Bruce from then on. Dick thought he'd always feel like a liar, a cheat. Like he wouldn't be able to look Bruce in the eye anymore after he had gone behind his back like this.

Still, Dick pressed on, stepping closer and closer to the door. He reached his hand out for the doorknob, pausing when his skin came into contact with the cold brass. What if Alfred was inside? After all, it seemed like Alfred's favorite place to dust and clean, and he had been in there just this afternoon when that call came in, tidying the place up. Would Alfred tell Bruce that Dick had disobeyed him? Had gone where he didn't belong?

Then again, Dick decided he was still being silly. He would just pretend that he was looking for Alfred to ask if he could have a snack. There wasn't anything wrong with just peeking his head around the study door to see if Alfred was in there, was there?

Gripping the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles began to turn white, Dick slowly turned it. When the door squeaked open, he stopped, waiting for any sound from within. When he heard nothing, Dick pushed the door open a bit more, sticking his head in. Holding his breath, Dick glanced about the room, looking for any sign of movement, but it was empty.

Releasing his breath, Dick quickly pushed the door open the rest of the way before he hurried inside. As quietly and carefully as he could, he closed the door behind him, flinching slightly when the bolt clicked loudly. His heart now thumping wildly in his chest, Dick stood frozen to his spot, waiting for any sign that someone had heard him.

Nearly a minute later, Dick finally unglued himself, leaning back against the door. He took a deep breath and let it out, staring up at the ceiling in relief and trying to will his pounding heart to slow. When his heartbeat finally began to return to normal, Dick let his eyes return to the room proper.

That was when he saw it. It was so glaringly obvious, it was no wonder no one was allowed in this room (except for Alfred). Right on the edge of Bruce's desk, next to the regular telephone was another. Only this one was bright red, and it had no numbers or dial on it – just one big button in the middle of where the dial should have been.

It was then that Dick realized Alfred must be in on the secret, whatever it was. If Alfred was in here dusting all the time, he obviously had seen this strange phone more than enough times. Then Dick felt slightly stupid. Of course Alfred knew! It was always after Alfred whispered something into Bruce's ear that Bruce spontaneously took off all the time. Whatever it was, both Alfred and Bruce were in on it together.

Frowning, Dick approached the desk, eyeing this mysterious phone almost like it was some sort of strange and exotic wild animal. Almost like it might lash out and bite him at any moment. Dick had the sudden and ridiculous urge to pick the phone up and press the button, dying to know what it would do or whom he might reach. But no, that would be stupid. Dick had absolutely no idea who might be on the other end, and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize his little search. Bruce wasn't home, after all. What if this was some sort of contraption that only Bruce himself could use? Dick wasn't about to do anything that might give away the fact that he was doing something he shouldn't.

Carefully setting his books down on the desk next to the bright red phone, Dick turned to take in the rest of the room. Nothing else seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary, but he knew that appearances could be deceiving. There had to be something. There had to be. Bruce couldn't just come in here and…disappear. It was something out of a mystery or spy novel, but perhaps there was some sort of secret passageway somewhere. That wasn't so hard to believe, was it? Not with this bright red, strange device staring him in the face.

Dick tiptoed across the carpet, still afraid that he would alert someone to his presence. When he got to the wall of bookshelves to the right of the desk, he put his hands up against the books, feeling for anything that didn't seem right. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was looking for, just something that shouldn't be there, something that was out of place. He almost felt like a spy in one his detective stories, searching for secret passages and clues in the most unlikely of places. He began pulling random books out of the shelves, seeing if it would trigger anything. A tiny part of him almost expected some hidden doorway to swing open or something, but of course, the rest of the study remained motionless.

After a while, Dick began to feel absolutely silly. Nothing was happening, and with every single book he pulled out of its slot, the more he was beginning to doubt that anything would. Was he completely crazy? Maybe Bruce really wasn't hiding anything strange or extraordinary behind the bookcases. Maybe Dick's imagination was just running away with him. He still had no doubt that Bruce was up to something, but perhaps it really wasn't as absurd as Dick was imagining it was. Besides, things like secret passages didn't exist in real life, did they? Only in fiction novels.

But then, what was the bright red phone all about? That certainly wasn't something that normal people had in their homes. Dick spun on his heel, turning back towards the desk with the glaringly red object on top of it. If only Dick could pick up the receiver and press the button – find out who was on the other end. It just might hold the answer to everything, but he couldn't do that. He just couldn't. He'd already gone through the reasons why. If the study wasn't any of his business, then playing around with Bruce's private things certainly wasn't either.

As if on cue, the phone began to beep and pulse with red light. Dick's heart nearly burst out of his chest and he thought he must have jumped a foot in the air. Did someone know he was there? Was it Bruce, calling him to find out why he was poking his nose in where it didn't belong? But how could that be? Dick was just being silly, wasn't he? His thoughts were only running wild because he was doing something he shouldn't. That was all.

A moment later, Dick heard footsteps outside the study door. Up until then, Dick had been too startled to really take in what was happening, but the sound of someone approaching spurred him into action. That must be Alfred coming to answer the phone. After all, it was almost always Alfred that disappeared into the study to silence the odd beeping sound whenever it started.

Dick sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darting around the room, desperately searching for a hiding spot. The loud beeping of the phone was ringing in his ears, distracting him and making him even more nervous than he already was. Where could he go? Behind one of the armchairs? But no. Surely Alfred would spot him there in a second. Behind the desk? All Alfred had to do was walk around it before he figured out that Dick was exactly wasn't where he was supposed to be. If only Dick had found one of the secret passages or compartments that he had been sure this room was hiding, but he hadn't. There was nowhere to go.

"Holy mousetrap," Dick whispered, suddenly not so sure if he had made the right decision in snooping around after all. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead and stinging his skin. He swallowed hard, almost wishing that the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

What would Alfred say when he found Dick there? Dick supposed he could ask Alfred to cover for him, but that would be unfair of him. He couldn't expect the butler to lie to his own employer, especially about something so important. What would Bruce do when he found out? Dick had this ridiculous image of Bruce disowning him and kicking him out of the house, but it was just that – ridiculous. Wasn't it? Surely Bruce wouldn't do that, but Dick wasn't so sure. After all, he had never done anything to abuse Bruce's trust like this before, and he had never seen Bruce really get angry at him. Would this be too much? Would he break the trust that had taken so long for him and Bruce to build? What would happen to him? What would happen to Aunt Harriet?

Had Dick just lost everything he was so lucky to have? Everything Bruce had given him out of the kindness of his heart? That was exactly what Bruce had given him – everything – and Dick had now thrown it in his face. Bruce had always told him that greed and selfishness were at the root of all evil, but it wasn't until right this minute that Dick realized just how right Bruce had been. Why hadn't he listened?

"I'm sorry, Bruce," was all that Dick could think of to say, whispering it to the otherwise empty room. There was no one there to hear him, and Dick didn't think that it would do him much good anyway. It was too late for a lot of things.

Too late indeed!
Can Dick find a way out?
Will Bruce ever forgive him?
What will become of our burgeoning Dynamic Duo?
Will they end before they even begin?

Tune in next time…
Same fan site…
Same fan channel.

For the sake of Bruce's youthful ward,
keep your fingers crossed until then!