✨ Author's Note ✨
I've been reading several comments about whether or not the protagonist will end up staying with the Bat-family. I want to make it clear that yes — that is the core of this story. The changes, relationships, and mentorships that Sebastian can bring to the Wayne family are what this fic is about.
I understand that some people might be looking for something different, but I'd rather clarify it now so no one has the wrong expectations. That said, I truly appreciate all the support and interest you've shown so far.
If what you're looking for is a much more independent protagonist, stay tuned: I have another project planned, which I'll start publishing once this fic reaches chapter 100, with a completely different focus.
In the meantime, thank you again for following this story. And I invite you to come back later, when it's further along, to see if it manages to draw you in.
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The secretary led them briskly toward the private elevators. The contrast between the crowded lobby and the calm of the executive corridor was striking: immaculate carpets, dark wood-paneled walls, and discreet paintings that spoke of history and prestige.
The elevator rose silently, its metal walls reflecting Sebastian's upright demeanor and Richard's barely concealed discomfort.
When the doors opened, Wayne Tower revealed itself in all its splendor. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed Gotham from above: a sea of skyscrapers, smoke, and lights that stretched out into the gray haze. The air smelled different up there, as if the city were distant, sealed away behind the glass.
The central corridor led to a spacious and bright office. There, amidst project mockups, extended plans, and screens lit up with endless reports, stood Lucius Fox.
A middle-aged man with a distinguished demeanor and a serene expression, his hair already graying at the temples and glasses that gave him an intellectual air. His suit was perfectly tailored, but he wore it casually, like someone dressed for work, not to impress. His large, firm hands moved precisely over some documents before he looked up at the new arrivals.
There was something peculiar about his presence: he did not impose himself with arrogance, but with the calm of someone who knew exactly what he was doing and what he was worth.
He was, after all, the true silent engine behind Wayne Enterprises.
Lucius stood up from behind his desk as Richard entered. His movements were calm but firm, as if he didn't waste energy on unnecessary gestures.
"Young Grayson," he said with a faint, cordial smile. "Mr. Wayne notified me of your arrival. However, I had been expecting you for some time. It seems your trip was delayed."
Dick smiled with a hint of irony.
"I knew Bruce would tell you, despite my refusal. That's why I stopped by to say hello before going about my business. You can relax, Lucius. I'm here today as Dick Grayson, not Bruce's son. I'm just checking on something minor. You don't have to worry."
Sebastian, a step behind him, listened silently. So he already told him… To anyone, that phrase might have sounded strange. Wasn't it the same thing to come as "Dick" or as "Bruce's son"? But Sebastian understood the code. With Bruce's other identity in mind, Dick was telling Lucius that today he came as Grayson, not Robin.
Clever boy, Sebastian thought, with a faint spark of approval.
His thoughts were interrupted when Dick continued.
"Right, let me introduce you. Lucius, this is Sebastian Pennyworth. He's… our trainee butler."
Lucius laid eyes on him. He examined him with a brief but scrutinizing glance, as if evaluating more than his bearing: his posture, his hands, his composure. Finally, he nodded to Dick's masked key and extended his hand.
"A pleasure, Mr. Pennyworth."
Sebastian responded elegantly, slightly inclining his head as he shook hands.
"The honor is mine, Mr. Fox."
The handshake was firm, measured, and not excessively forceful. The gesture of two men who recognized each other, each in his role.
Lucius turned back to Dick casually, as if the introduction was settled without further words.
Lucius raised a hand politely.
"One moment, please."
With a gesture, he indicated the leather armchairs in front of his desk. Dick settled into one of them, while Lucius sat on the other side, behind the desk. Sebastian stood slightly behind and to the right of Dick, a silent shadow in perfect protocol.
Richard's face, relaxed during breakfast, was now more serious.
"Lucius, on the way here... there was an attempt to intercept me. A van, armed motorcyclists. They were organized."
Lucius's brow furrowed immediately, his hands clasped on the desk.
"An attempted kidnapping?"
Dick nodded.
"They didn't seem to be looking for a direct confrontation. They didn't even try to shoot first. It was more of a… capture operation. Blocking the road, forcing the car to stop. They weren't looking to harm me immediately, but to stop and take me away."
Lucius watched him intently, absorbing every word.
Dick continued, his tone lower.
"I'm almost certain they were looking for someone connected to Bruce. They didn't seem to have plans to hurt me outright, but rather to arrest and take me away. With a hostage like that, they could demand a ransom… or pressure Bruce Wayne directly."
Lucius's eyes narrowed, his frown deepening. He'd gone from cordial to serious in a matter of seconds.
Sebastian took a slight step forward, his hands still clasped behind his back.
"If I may, young master Richard."
Dick gave him the floor with a slight nod.
"Given the way the attack was executed, it wasn't improvised. They seemed to be aware of our schedule for the day and the route we would follow. The interception of the initial truck forced us to detour, which led us directly to the situation with the motorcyclists and the van."
His eyes narrowed slightly, without losing his composure.
"That leads me to assume that, at some point, someone with access to his agenda leaked the information. A mole, or at least a very well-informed observer."
The air in the office became tense.
Lucius leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, listening silently to Sebastian's words, and after a few seconds of reflection, nodded slowly.
"You're right." His eyes shifted from Sebastian to Richard. "I'll investigate this personally and be sure to inform Mr. Wayne. I don't want to take up any more of your time, Dick. You can take care of the matters that brought you here at your leisure."
Dick nodded, relieved.
"Thank you, Lucius. I appreciate it."
He stood up from the chair and extended his hand, which Lucius shook cordially. Before stepping away, Dick added with a slight smile,
"By the way… could you lend me a company car? Mine was a bit… damaged during the attack."
Lucius barely raised an eyebrow, though a faint, tired smile formed on his lips.
"Of course. I'll have one prepared for you immediately. It'll be safer than continuing in that BMW."
"Perfect," Dick replied, turning to Sebastian with a knowing nod. "Come on, we still have work to do."
Sebastian bowed his head slightly in silence, maintaining his unwavering demeanor. But inside, as he thought about the ripped-off door and the mangled body of the BMW, he could only sigh.
With that, Dick headed toward the elevators, Sebastian following close behind.
On the way, Sebastian spoke in a low voice, his usual measured calm:
"If I may give you some advice, young master, perhaps it would be wise to inform Lucius of what you intend to do. Or at least ask for his support."
Dick paused for a moment, looking at him with that half-smile that was somewhere between youthful and defiant.
"I appreciate it, Sebastian. But no. I want to handle this myself."
He walked back, without further explanation, as if the conversation had ended.
The elevator stopped at the appropriate floor and the doors opened with a soft hum. The metal sign on the wall read: International Logistics and Supplies Department.
The hallway smelled of new paper and reheated coffee. The murmur of keyboards and phones mingled with the constant hum of printers. Suited employees walked with folders under their arms, some hurried, others too calmly.
Dick entered without hesitation, as if he knew the way perfectly. And indeed, he did: Bruce had taken it upon himself to give him virtually complete access to Wayne Enterprises' internal systems. Without needing to ask for credentials, he walked to a free terminal in a side office and activated it with a couple of confident movements.
Sebastian, for his part, stopped by the entrance. His hands clasped behind his back, his posture perfect: upright, impassive, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a sentry on guard.
Occasionally, an employee glanced at him, surprised by the "assistant's" imposing presence. But no one dared to approach or interrupt.
Meanwhile, Dick began quickly reviewing the reports, his expression serious in contrast to his usual lightness. His fingers danced across the keyboard, opening files, comparing shipping and order data.
Sebastian watched him out of the corner of his eye for a moment before returning his gaze to the hallway. Focused, determined. He wants to do it alone. Even if it's reckless, I understand the need to prove himself.
The murmur of the office continued to flow, while the clock on the wall marked the slow advance of the minutes.
After a while in front of the terminal, Dick reached for his neck, stretching it wearily. The accumulated pain from the strain of reviewing so many lines of data was taking its toll.
Then, a warm aroma enveloped him. The smell of freshly brewed coffee.
He blinked and looked up: in front of him, a steaming mug sat on the table. Sebastian had placed it gently, even carefully angled it, so that from his position he couldn't see the screen or the contents of the computer.
"Young Master Richard," Sebastian said with serene calm, "take a break. I don't think what's on your mind will change after a ten-minute break."
Dick let out a sigh, looking around. The department was practically empty; the empty chairs and silent desks confirmed the obvious.
"The other employees took their break time, young master," Sebastian added, firm as ever.
Dick clicked his tongue in resignation, still annoyed at not being able to solve the problem quickly.
Sebastian insisted, a faint hint of irony hidden beneath his impeccable tone:
"The coffee from the machine may not be as good as the beans exported from Wayne Manor… but it's also not good to be upset about well-served coffee. I made it with all my love. It would hurt me if you refused it."
Dick looked at him, and despite himself, smiled. He took the cup and took a sip.
"All right, Sebastian."
Dick took another sip of coffee, still frowning.
"Ugh… I'm just upset because I can't fix this."
Sebastian observed him in silence for a few seconds, then spoke with measured calm.
"Young Master Richard… if I may offer an opinion. Seeking help from others does not devalue your own worth. A good officer, in the military, is not one who solves everything on his own… but one who knows when and how to rely on his unit."
Dick looked up, arching an eyebrow, smiling crookedly.
"I understand what you're trying to say, Sebastian. But it's not the same. This… I want to do it myself."
Sebastian sighed softly, still composed.
"I know. But remember: even the most capable eventually fall if they carry everything alone. Strength doesn't always come from doing everything yourself, but from knowing when to share the burden."
Dick leaned his elbow on the table, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. He smiled tiredly.
"I appreciate it… I really do. But no, not this time."
Silence filled the office again. Sebastian nodded slightly, acknowledging the refusal.
Finally, after several hours of reviewing files and comparing data, Dick leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. He had found what he was looking for.
Sebastian, still standing by the door, watched him silently before speaking in his serene tone.
"Well done, Young Master Richard."
Dick smiled, stretching his arms tiredly.
"Thanks, Sebastian. I'm glad someone recognizes it."
Shortly after, they left the department and headed for the elevators. The day had passed without them noticing: when they left Wayne Tower, the sun was already setting behind the skyscrapers and the city was beginning to turn on its lights.
At reception, they collected the keys to the vehicle Lucius had arranged for them. The afternoon secretary, having been briefed in advance, handed them over with a polite smile, without objection or questions.
"Have a good night."
"Thanks," Dick replied, pocketing the keys while glancing quickly at Sebastian.
In the parking lot, they found the car: a black sedan from the executive fleet, immaculate and much more discreet than the wrecked BMW.
Once inside, the engine roared softly, leaving the lights of Wayne Tower behind, they they drove back to the mansion.