When Dick first expressed his desire to join Batman on nighttime missions, Bruce wasn't particularly surprised.
After all, Dick was barely ten—a child whose mind was still developing. It was natural for him to form attachments or even idolize certain figures and, in doing so, overlook the fact that these were dangerous pursuits, far from what any child should be involved in.
Honestly, Bruce could somewhat understand Dick's mindset, especially given their shared experiences. Bruce himself had taken years to grapple with his own trauma and ultimately chose this difficult path only after long reflection and self-acceptance.
But Dick was skipping over that time and development. He saw only the end result in Batman and the path forward through his example.
Bruce felt responsible. He understood that he needed to guide Dick, to be the model the boy needed. He didn't doubt Dick's determination; he could see in the boy's eyes that this wasn't a passing fancy or an attempt to make light of the dangers Batman faced. Dick genuinely wanted this.
The death of his own parents had set him on this path, just as it had shaped Dick. Bruce suspected that, even without his influence, Dick might have ended up in a life of vigilante justice eventually.
But that didn't mean Bruce could simply allow it.
Dick was still so young, Bruce thought, and plunging into something this dangerous could easily cost him his life. Bruce couldn't approve, at least not until he was an adult.
As he looked at Dick's determined eyes, he couldn't help but recall how lost the boy had seemed when he first arrived. Just after losing his parents, Dick had looked like a drenched, stray puppy with nowhere to turn, his eyes full of helplessness.
Bruce thought that, if Dick had asked him to become his partner back then, he might have found it nearly impossible to refuse. But now, seeing how his bright, cheerful personality had reemerged, Bruce found it even harder to let him dive into the darkness. After all, childhood ought to be a time of innocence and freedom.
"You'll need to undergo some rigorous training. If you can't pass, you'll have to abandon this idea," Bruce said sternly. Although he didn't want Dick to be involved, he refrained from a flat-out refusal. First, he didn't want to trigger a rebellious reaction that might push Dick into making a reckless decision. Second, he'd already devised a plan to show Dick just how tough this path could be.
Batman hadn't fully grasped the strength of a determined child's will, but he was about to.
Unaware of his adoptive father's true intentions, Dick beamed. "Thanks, Bruce! Will Batman be training me by himself?"
Bruce nodded, poised to lay out the meticulously structured, grueling training regimen he had crafted in his mind, intending to make Dick understand the demands and relent. But before he could even begin, Dick had already turned around and bolted out of the room, heading straight toward the garden, where Avery was watering the plants.
Bruce watched his son's retreating figure, puzzled, and decided to follow him.
Soon, he overheard Dick telling his butler, "Bruce has agreed to my request. He even said you'd personally train me."
Batman himself, one hand resting on the wall for support, felt his mind conjuring a giant question mark.
The weather that day was unexpectedly bright. The golden sunlight cast a warm, comforting glow over everything, gentle rather than harsh. Evidently, the flowers in the garden felt the same way; after being closed for some time, they had all begun to bloom at once. Avery had noticed the blossoming flowers early that morning and decided it was the perfect day for tea and a quiet read in the garden.
So he'd settled in with his newspaper, casually delegating the watering chores to his mechanical stand-in.
Assuming there was no one in the household who might question him, Avery had begun openly using his gadgets to avoid minor tasks.
It was shaping up to be an ordinary day, until the young master of the house suddenly ran over to Avery and made his unexpected request.
Avery: "…"
Avery blinked, then set down his newspaper, looking at Dick with a serious expression. "Are you sure it was Mr. Bruce who said I'd be the one to train you?"
You're certain?
Dick glanced nervously at the figure watering flowers nearby, which he assumed was simply a new household employee. Though he wasn't sure why the family, typically run with minimal staff, would suddenly hire someone just to water flowers, he held his tongue, not wanting to say too much. After a confirming glance at Avery, he nodded and said, "He nodded, so yes."
Avery fell silent, looking thoughtful as he scanned Dick from head to toe, his gaze thorough enough to account for every detail, as though he might even be examining the individual strands of Dick's hair.
After a long, close look that left Dick increasingly nervous, Avery finally spoke. "The thing is, you seem to have no aptitude for this—just like Bruce. Even so, you're set on learning from me?"
Dick looked affronted. "How can that be? I've been training since I was four! Everyone around me says I have a natural talent for it."
If not for the lack of suitable props in the garden, Dick would have gladly performed an acrobatic routine on the spot to prove his point.
"Ah...but…" Avery held back from mentioning that Dick indeed had no magical aptitude. He hesitated, then stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze landing on the mechanical assistant who had been watering the flowers. Inspiration struck.
"Perhaps it would be better for you to learn something else from me," he suggested sincerely.
Dick looked confused. "Something else? I came here to learn combat skills from Batman. Why would you say I don't have talent for that and then offer to teach me something else?"
Avery snapped his fingers gently, and the assistant stopped watering, setting the watering can down before turning around to Dick with a respectful, "Master Dick."