All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 7: The Search

Bruce pounded down the hall, jerking open every door he passed. He scanned the rooms quickly, but thoroughly, calling out Dick's name. He would wait a few seconds and when he got no reply, he raced onward to the next room. He had to find Dick before he did something stupid that would have a bigger effect than he would ever realize.

Bruce had checked every room on that floor and moved on to the upstairs. He searched desperately for Dick, but the poor soul was nowhere to be found. Bruce stopped when he shoved open the door to Tim's room. The young 15 year old boy was lying on his bed working on something. Must be his project Bruce thought. But he didn't have time to think. He had to act. Now.

"Tim, this is urgent." He was panting and a few random stumps of sweat were quivering on his forehead. "Have you seen or even heard Dick at all?"

"No," Tim looked at Bruce confused. "I haven't seen him since breakfast. Why, is there something wrong?"

"No, I just really need to find him soon."

"I could help you look for-"

"No! That's okay, Tim. Just go back to work and don't worry about it." If there was the chance that Bruce couldn't have gotten there fast enough to save Dick, there wasn't any reason as to why Tim should see his freshly dead brother. No, Bruce had to find him first. He had to.

"Um…okay." He hesitated, but went back to his work. Bruce closed the door back and jetted down the hall. I have to find him. He thought. I won't let my son do this. I can't just let another son die when I have the means to prevent it. I will prevent it. I have to. Dick is too much to me to have him die. Why couldn't he just understand that? He is my son. I love him so much. But why can't I ever just tell him that? What is so hard about saying, "I love you" every now and then? This is my fault entirely. I would never forgive myself if I let anything happen to Dick. I just couldn't. Ever. Damnit, why didn't he say something years ago?

Bruce had checked the entire house only to find nothing he wanted to find. Dick couldn't have left. They drove in Bruce's car and Dick wouldn't have walked because it would have been too easy for Bruce to catch up with him. Dick wouldn't go to the cave because that would be one of the first places Bruce would have looked. Damnit. Bruce would never find Dick because he was Dick. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Not by Bruce, Clark, absolutely no one. Which is what worried Bruce the most. Dick could hide anywhere he wanted to. He could hide in the manor and not be found for days, if that's what he intended for. Days. It only takes half a second to slice you're your throat, and Bruce wouldn't have found Dick until it was far too late. Damnit, why had Bruce trained him so well?

There was nowhere else in the house to look. Bruce needed to find Alfred. If Dick had left, Alfred would know. Alfred knew everything. It was a helpful gift, but it could also get annoying sometimes. Bruce found Alfred dusting off a bookcase in one of the rooms that haven't been used since Bruce's… but it still needed a good dusting every now and then.

"Alfred!" Bruce's breath was out of control and he was covered in sweat. Alfred just hoped there wouldn't be a stain in his shirt later on.

"Has the Master missed me? Might I ask-"

"I don't have time for this, Alfred! I need to find Dick. Now. Have you seen him? Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"I'm afraid I have not seen the young master since earlier this morning. My apologies, Sir." Bruce felt his eyes sting. If Alfred didn't know where Dick was, then there was no hope at all for finding him. The stinging grew and Bruce's vision began to slightly blur. He felt his eyes start to tremble. I couldn't save him. I killed my son. He's the only one I would ever let get so close to me besides Alfred. Why couldn't he see that?

Bruce clenched his teeth hard and his hands formed tight fists. He head began to slightly shake and he shut his eyes. He closed them hard and turned his head. All of a sudden, he felt like he was eight years old again. How he tried so hard to be tough, but knew it wouldn't matter because the people he loved most in the world were dead. He didn't even do anything to try and stop it from happening. Just like he couldn't stop this from happening. Bruce felt his leg begin to tremble and he just wanted to drop to his hands and knees and just cry it all out. He wanted to cry out all his pain. His pain for Dick, his parents, Jason, everything. But he knew the Bat wouldn't let him because he was supposed to be strong and fearless. But one of his biggest fears just came true. No, he was not going to listen to the Bat. No, not this time. If he wanted to cry, then he sure as hell would. Because his son was dead. And he couldn't help him. He couldn't save Dick. It was his fault. Dick died because of him.

Bruce's heart ached. He felt like this enormous weight just swept over him, pulling him down. He couldn't fight it. He was too weak. No matter what the Bat said, Bruce would always need his son. He let out a near silent gasp. His entire body shook. But Alfred didn't see. He was busy with his dusting.

"However, Master Bruce," Alfred said reassuringly as he replaced a few books to their proper places. "I think I might know a place Master Dick may be if you have already searched the rest of the manor." Bruce's I shot open and he looked dead at the old man.

"Where?" It was almost a whisper.

"I believe the roof, if you have not been there yet."

Bruce regained himself. "The roof?"

"Yes, Sir. In the past I have known the young man to have…" Alfred looked to where an absent Bruce was. Unknowingly of what just happened with Bruce, the English man shook his head and with a sigh, returned to his work.

The roof. I have to get to the roof. Why would dick be on the roof? There isn't time to think about that now. I have to save my son. Bruce ran out the front door over to the side of the manor. He quickly and carelessly climbed up the side, knocking off a few tiles here and there. This would have been easier with my grappling hook. Or even my gauntlets.

Finally, Bruce reached the top of the side of the manor. He hoped up and landed on the roof. He looked around. Dick wasn't there…

To Be Continued?