I wanted to do a version of another story but with Batman 2022 Bruce finding a Dick Grayson from that universe in the bathroom instead of Alfred because it's my life and if DC can recycle the same Batman origin story then I can recycle my own work 

TW: BULLYING

https://www.bullying.co.uk/

https://www.nationalbullyinghelpline.co.uk/contact.html

https://www.anti-bullyingalliance.org.uk/tools-information/if-youre-being-bullied/find-help-and-support

"Well, that can't be good," Dick mumbled to himself. He'd been facing the mirror in his bathroom for the last half an hour just staring at his image the entire time. Not in a narcissistic way. In a "how the fuck am I going to hide this" way. He'd been walking home from school, something Alfred always told him he shouldn't do given his status as Bruce Wayne's ward but said butler was currently in England for a funeral, something he said he attended more of the older he got. That left himself and Bruce alone for the best of a week, and he'd been walking home for most of it without any problems. Key phrasing being so far. He'd been walking home when he felt someone stalking behind him. He didn't have a sixth sense but he had a general awareness about himself after becoming Robin and the person behind him was doing a bad job of sneaking. He wasn't particularly worried about the situation and continued to walk without showing any signs he knew he was being tailed. He'd taken out his phone, ready to text his guardian if things went wrong as he went through an alley. 

It was in that alley that he heard the footsteps get closer and he whipped around ready to face his potential kidnapper only to realize it was someone from school. Fuck. Bruce told him that he should only use his training in times of emergencies and that they needed to maintain public personas that wouldn't hint to them being vigilantes. For Bruce, that meant being a socially inept shut-in who never quite shed his emo phase but for good reason. For Dick, that meant being a weakling acrobat that was smart but nowhere near as smart as Robin needed to be to survive. Now, he knew for a fact this person from school meant bad news. He wasn't too sure of their whole name, only knowing them as Thatch since that's what everyone called him. Thatch was a bulky football player who could probably get a scholarship if he wasn't a trust fund kid and was a year above Dick at school. He was no Joker henchman but he was muscley enough that a punch would hurt like hell. "Can I help you?" Dick asked. He folded his arms across his chest and did his best to look confident despite his small stature. 

"Yeah. You're going to be doing my homework," Thatch stated. Oh. He narrowed his eyes at the teen, wondering if this was just his weird way of asking for help or if there was going to be more to the interaction. 

"I don't do tutoring," he answered, beginning to take a few steps back. 

"I'm not asking for that. I'm asking for you to do my homework," Thatch responded. He started advancing towards Dick who began to make his exit from the alley. That was until the older grabbed his backpack and pulled harshly, dragging him back into the secluded area. He was thrown to the ground and a foot was pressed on his chest. It took all his willpower not to find a way to flip this guy but he had to remind himself that he wasn't in his suit. He was Dick Grayson. He was supposed to be helpless. "I'm going to give you a taster of what will happen if you don't do my homework. If you still say no then you'll be meeting your parents really soon."

Long story short, Dick now had dried blood on his face thanks to a busted lip and a nose bleed that luckily wasn't from a broken nose, just the trauma from being hit. His left eye was swollen and bruised to the point where no make-up could soften just how bad it looked nor would any prying open grant him the ability to see out of it. All in all, he looked a mess yet he wasn't worried by the lesson he'd been taught today. He'd been taught said lesson enough times by people who were actually going to go through with beating him to death and the take away of do as you're told/threatened never stuck. Maybe they should teach it a different way. Either way, no small-time bully was going to have him shaking in his overly expensive boots that Bruce insisted on buying him. It was just an inconvenience that he'd figure a way out of when he could be bothered. It's not like any of the teachers would have his back given the rather large group of people who hated his guts sitting on the school board. Perhaps Robin could pay him a visit when Batman turned his back. 

However, what he was worried about was how Bruce was going to react to this. He didn't fear the man's wrath for not defending himself that was for sure. Bruce often told him to do anything to hide any connection between himself and Robin so it wasn't really an option. Rather, he was worried about how much babying he'd receive thanks to the older's concern. For someone who put his ward in situations where a punch to the face is customary, Bruce sure did act like it was going to kill him but even then he was weird about expressing it. Bruce didn't know how to deal with things related to emotion, Dick had learned that much in the year he'd been at the manor, so he stumbled and tripped over showing his care in a way that was cringe-worthy for everyone involved. Dick didn't really help by being the most overdramatic person ever usually to guilt trip criminals into reminding them that they are in fact punching a child in the face or because it was simply fun to give an exaggerated reaction. Often just because he was like that but he'd deny it. 

He didn't know how Bruce would react to him being beaten up by a bully further than giving him a poor attempt at an uplifting lecture and treating him like he only had a week to live. When criminals hurt him, the answer was to fight back but Bruce couldn't go around punching children no matter how much they deserved it or how many lawyers could get him off the hook. Dick hoped it wouldn't be to take him out of school. It'd been a rough few months and he still hadn't completely settled but he liked getting out of the place. Sure it was massive and many envied the living space yet when you'd seen the same few walls you soon grew bored of everything that inhabited them. It was nice to talk to other kids too who hadn't been told to stay within a ten-foot distance of him like he was going to give them a disease if he stared for too long. Those few were quite accommodating and offered to give him answers in exchange for the answers they didn't know in turn. He didn't want to be taken away from that all over someone having an ego trip because they couldn't do maths or work out what blue curtains meant for their literature essay. 

Dick spent a long time in the bathroom just staring and wondering about what was going to become of the mess made of his face by some idiot who was very lucky he wasn't in costume. It must have been a lot longer than he thought as he heard footsteps on the stairs signifying that Bruce was home. Or someone was breaking in. Honestly, he hoped for the latter so he could have a better story to explain the bruises although there would still be some minuscule detail that would have his guardian questioning the true origin. Okay, he needed a cover story much quicker than he thought. Walking into a door was out of the question. Maybe he could go with a football game gone wrong? If he said he'd been mugged then Bruce would likely see this as an opportunity to get revenge and go hunt the mugger down. 

"Who did that?" Dick turned to the door finding that he'd never actually closed it and Bruce was now looming in the doorway with a combination of anxious energy and what could be considered fatherly protection. His stare was intense and wholly focused on the boy's injuries, silently scanning for anything else out of place. Dick had grown to look past the patronizing energy it gave off and find the warmth in the gesture.

"Haven't you heard about knocking? That's such a breach of privacy yknow? I'm gonna tell Alfred about it," he rambled in response. He definitely wasn't ready to give an honest reply so he'd have to rely on his gift of the gab for the time being. If he talked long enough then eventually Bruce would be too intimidated by the social interaction and leave him alone. "I'll tell him you let me eat the American chocolate and not the British chocolate too. There's a big difference and you know how he wants me to have the best. I do get the hype about it though, I mean, American chocolate feels waxier. Did you know the UK and America have different laws regarding what counts as chocolate?"

"Dick."

"I'm telling him you called me that." Something that could've been a smile adorned the older's face at the comment although it slipped away soon enough.

"That's your name."

"Yeah, but you said it with a cursing tone. It's not my fault Dick is short for Richard and you're certainly not calling me Richard. That's for old men. Old rich men like those guys who use slurs I've never even heard of before because they're so old." 

"You're hurt." The younger frowned, hating the genuine nature behind the statement. Bruce really did care about him and was perturbed by seeing him injured due to unknown means. Even if he did absolutely suck at expressing himself he still cared and dodging questions probably wasn't the best mode of action if he wanted to make out like this was nothing. Dick went to chew on his bottom lip thoughtfully only to get a shock of pain from it still being split and winced. "What's wrong?"

"You're such a worry wart," he responded, still unsure of what stance he was going to take with this.

"You're ten."

"And I also fight crime."

"Dick."

"Again, calling me names. You really must have no respect for me B." Bruce knelt down in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Who did this?" he repeated.

There was a beat of silence where all either of them could do was stare at the other. Neither knew what to say or really what to do because they'd never done this before. Dick had never been beaten up by other circus kids. They rough-housed and maybe threw knives at each other before really learning how to throw them safely but there was no real malice. There was no senseless violence to muscle your way through life. It was all play fighting and dramatics, putting on a show for an imaginary audience or for their own delight. He'd never had to go to his parents with a black eye meant to teach him a lesson but he had gone to Bruce with that. It was in a different context though. 

Bruce had never had a kid come home with mysterious bruises and blood staining their face and uniform. He'd had a kid who came up to him with bruises and blood staining their face and uniform but he always knew who had done it. There was never an attempt to hide the aggressor, it was just a point over to a guilty-looking henchman who definitely didn't mean to punch that hard and probably didn't think this was would be in their contract. Yet this time he was dealing with the emotional minefield of a child who wouldn't give up information that easily for whatever reason Bruce could come up and he could come up with a fair few. 

"It doesn't need to be a big deal," Dick said, finally breaking the silence. "I didn't even cry either. He probably thought I was super tough and won't even try it again when I see him so there's no point in it."

"Who did this?" Bruce pressed.

"It's just some guy from school. No one important. You said I couldn't fight back when I'm out of uniform so when he threatened me over doing his homework, I took the lesson and went on with my day. He only really hit me in the face which in my opinion is the worst part. My face is my money maker. I'm lucky we're not near Halloween yet otherwise I'd be losing out on a lot of goodies. We'd have to sue for losses."

"That's not a good legal case," the older mumbled before returning to the more important part of their conversation. "What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"Don't you?" he asked incredulously.

"I don't! He's just some guy. He probably saw me get my test results the other day since all of ours get posted up outside classes and thought it'd be easy to get free homework. He's not even in my classes, he's probably a year above me or something." 

"I've taught you better than that. I know you have some information on them."

"Oh come off it Bruce. I'm not in the mood to be lectured. I want to take some painkillers and a nap so I can be done with it."

"But I don't want to be done with it." The boy rolled his eyes and pushed past his mentor, decidedly done for the day. His eye hurt, his lip hurt, he now had double the homework to do and he'd have to go on patrol tonight with that domino stuck to his fresh bruise which was a pain in the arse to take off after. Plus he was definitely getting a stress headache or something. 

"We can't all get what we want. I didn't want to be punched in the face either but here we are." He made his way to his bedroom, feeling the ominous energy of the older billionaire follow after him. 

As he put his hand on the doorknob, Bruce called out to him with an oddly desperate tone. 

"Don't. Please." Dick couldn't very well say no to that and if he didn't know any better, he'd assume this was the man's version of puppy dog eyes that he pulled to get things he wanted. Only this was a plea for vulnerability coming from one of the most guarded people on Earth, second only to Alfred. "I'd...I'd like to discuss this bullying issue."

"It's not bullying," Dick corrected as he twirled around. "It's some idiot beating me up on the way home."

"On the way home? You didn't say that."

"He didn't very well beat me up in front of the teachers, did he? He's not that stupid. If he was then it wouldn't be me with the black eye. It'd be some guy with glasses who looked smart and had the physique of a string bean."

"I don't like that you got hurt on the way home," Bruce admitted. He wasn't visibly distressed or rattled but it was clear from his tone that he was far from calm. This had rightfully upset him. Enough for him to use the language Dick talked to him about that made it obvious what his emotions were given the guy was like reading a brick when you were trying to figure out how he felt. It was a big step, one that urged the boy not to retreat to his bedroom so they could talk things through. Weird. He'd never thought Bruce would get to this stage. He thought everything would stay in the neat little bubble of awkward head pats for good behaviour and intense glares for bad behaviour. "I don't like that you got hurt at all."

"Me neither but I've had worse, haven't I?" he tried to offer although once it left his mouth he could see how it wasn't very comforting. It just brought back the darker memories they shared.

"That's not a pass to experience pain however lesser it may be. Would you like me to take you out of school?"

"No! God no, that's like the worst outcome of this. I want to stay in school however tough it is. You can't coop me up inside all the time to protect me from people out there. You don't do that when I get hurt as Robin."

"But that's different."

"Why is it different?"

"Because I can hurt the people who hurt you as Robin. I can't hurt a child let alone force them to see consequences when you don't give me a name."

"Revenge isn't what I want, B."

"Then what do you want?" Dick paused before answering then let out a tired sigh. Honesty may, after all, be the best policy. 

"I want a hug and some help with homework since I'm doing his now too." They both seemed a little caught off guard by the comment but he could see that Bruce was eager to meet the demands if it meant that he could do something about what happened.

"Then...we- Okay."

"Okay what?"

"I'll give you that. A hug and help with homework." The acrobat smiled up at him.

"Thanks B. Could we also not tell Alfred?"

"No, he's going to know. I like my chicken well cooked."

"But he'll cause a fuss!"

"We can't get what we want."

"Ugh fine," he pouted, folding his arms across his chest in a huff. "You can be really sassy when you want to be B. I think I'm rubbing off on you."

"Maybe. For the record, I think you could've taken him had you been in uniform."

"You bet your bats I could!"