Dick was beyond tried. He sluggishly stumbled to his room after a long night of crime fighting. When he reached his room he immediately trudged over to his bed. Alfred is a saint. The supposedly non-superpowered butler predicted he would want to go to bed when he returned from patrol, so Dick was already dressed in his absurdly bright and colorful pajamas. He lazily crawled under his fluffy blue blanket and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Dick was sleeping peacefully in his bed until he felt someone roughly shaking him. "Mm, five more minutes." Dick sleepily mumbled, burying himself further into his blanket. Thankfully the shaking stopped. He let out a pleased sigh and welcomed the feeling of slumber washing over him. A sudden chill went down his spine – which should be impossible since he is covered by the warmest blanket in history – filling him with a sense of terror. With the glorious feeling of sleep thoroughly chased away by the unnerving chill, he laid quietly in bed, unmoving or showing any indication he is awake.

His trained ears picked up the sound of two pairs of footsteps, they were too loud to be Bruce or Alfred. Did someone break into the manor? He continued to feign sleep, but internally he was panicking, his panic increased even more when the footsteps came to halt in front of his bedroom door. The sound of his heart pounded in his ears. A long agonizing silence stretched out for what felt like an eternity. Dick hoped they decided to leave, but that hope was shattered when the sound of his door creaking open echoed throughout the room. His eyes snapped open and he stared at his wall in anticipation.

He wanted to scream for Bruce or Alfred to help him. Sadly, the two were still in the batcave and wouldn't be able to hear his cries for help. Why do I have to be a defenseless ward?! Plenty of people learn some kind of marital art or form of self-defense. Before he knew it the view of his bedroom wall shifted to his floor. What the hell! He would have yelped or made some other sound of pain when he hit the floor face first – without an audible thump for some strange reason – but his mouth refused to open. No matter how hard he tried his vocal cords wouldn't make a single sound. Dick went to get off the floor only to find his limps felt like they were full of lead. None of his muscles would twitch. He was frozen, unable to speak, and possibly in danger.

This is bad. Where is Alfred the psychic butler when I need him?! Better yet, WHERE THE HELL IS BRUCE? One of the many security systems has to of gone off. He laid paralyzed on the floor with baited breath. Eventually the door fully opened and the criminal duo cautiously crept into his room. "You idiot!" Someone whisper yelled, their voice is rough and masculine. "I thought you said this was the brat's room." How do they know this is my room? At least they can't see him… And he can't see them. Dick couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not considering he is paralyzed. Meaning he would not be able to fight back if they did find him. "It has to be. It's decorated and everything." Another more feminine voice whispered back. A man and a woman. He definitely need to investigate them later. That is if he made it out of this situation unscathed.

"Yeah, but in case you haven't notice the brat is not here! Come on, let's get out of here before someone realizes we broke in." The male hissed. There was the soft sound of a person quietly retreating followed by a loud exaggerated sigh. "Of course we chose the one night the brat is sleeping over at a friend's house." The male grumbled to himself, not even bothering to sneak out of the room. He listened to the man angrily stomped away, releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding. "What the hell?" Dick whispered, eyes widening when he spoke. So he could speak now. Does that mean he can move too? To test his theory, he jumped off the ground and back flipped onto his night stand. "Yes!" he whispered, careful not to be too loud in case the two intruders were still nearby. Now it was time to go get Bruce. A sudden thought occurred to him and a look of horror spread across his face.

Wait! If Bruce and Alfred are still in the cave, who was shaking me?! Dick frantically looked around his room, there is no indication his room was broken into before the criminals, but disturbingly enough there is an indentation of a pair of feet in the carpet by his bed. He instantly knew the foot prints did not belong to either of the potential kidnappers. They were too small, and the duo never walked far enough in the room to leave a mark there. Based on the size and depth of the print he could assume the marks were made by a teen. Possibly fourteen to sixteen depending on that person's growth rate. Is the manor haunted? Man, Wally is going to hate me when I bring this up.

"Dick, are you okay?" Bruce shouted from the hall, his voice was uncharacteristically laced with emotion. Mainly worry and fear. So they did set something off when they broke in. Good to know. "Y-yeah, I'm alright." Dick yelled back, walking over to his ajar bedroom door. He opened the door all the way and was meet with the sight of his worried father, who promptly began searching him for injures. "Some of the motion detectors went off. The two culprits seem to have escaped. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Y-yeah." Dick said, uncertainly. Bruce eyed him skeptically, mouth drawn into a thin line, obviously not believing his answer but did not pushing the subject any further. Am I okay? No. Not only was I almost kidnapped, I was also shaken by a ghost. Should I tell Bruce? Yeah, no. He'll think I am crazy. Now that I think about it if the ghost hadn't woken me up I might have slept through my kidnapping. Another chill when down his spine. But I am totally not sleeping in a haunted room tonight. Bruce looked like he was about to leave. Now or never. "H-hey, Bruce. Can I sleep in your room tonight?" Dick asked nervously, a light pink blush on his cheeks.