"Shhh...don't cry. I promise that everything will be alright. Okay?"

The little ebony haired boy in front of me only nodded in response. It was a small nod accompanied by a barely audible 'yes' and I had to strain my hearing to catch it. The inaudible whispering and straining of ears have become common practice over the time that we've spent together. He's been an introvert for as long as I've known him and he never really understood the concept of projecting his voice despite that I'd tell him countless times to do so. But this kid has gone through so much that I guess his introverted behaviour is really just a symptom of trauma. In fact, when I first met him, getting him to talk through gestures was such a challenge that it's a miracle he even decided to use words given his current circumstance. As I studied his round ivory face, I could sense an oncoming wave of tears ergo I quickly brought out a ragged old handkerchief from my back pocket and began to gently dab at his glistening crystal-blue orbs. Motioning for me to hand over the cloth, I placed the slightly damp tissue in his tiny pale hands and leaned back to observe him as he vigorously rubbed his eyes clean. It was amusing to watch, really. Not that I would let it show. Batman shows no emotion, neither does Bruce Wayne. But this kid, god damn, he could make any grown man feel mushy inside. Moments later, a now soaking handkerchief clasped tightly in shaky hands were presented to me. When I looked up, I was met with a solemn Dick patiently waiting for me to take back what was mine. I stared at him with a solemn gaze of my own and held contact until one of us would break. Of course, I knew it wouldn't be me and seconds passed when I heard little eight year old Dick burst into a fit of joyous giggles all the while repeatedly blinking away at sore eyes. Whilst Dick was busy in his bubbly laughter, I took to the chance to reach out and encase his hands in mine, handkerchief still in his grasp. They were soft to the touch and were ridiculously skinny for an eight year old boy. You might as well have been holding a pile of bones. Finally, Dick locked eyes with mine and his angelic laughter gradually faded away after seeing my smug expression. He has this really cute habit where he tilts his head to the right like a curious puppy and stares at you with squinted eyes and pouty lips. It's hard to not smile when you look straight into those ocean blues, especially if they're at a 45 degree angle. Once his face contorted into a curious expression, I said, "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

A/N: So this story actually initially started out as an original story. But I didn't know about FictionPress then so I posted it here. After a while though, I realized that this story can be changed into a fanfic. LOL So now it's about Dick and Bruce. I know they might be a little off character, but this is actually the first ever fanfic I've ever written...by accident even. :P Hope you like.