The night you left the manor is a night Bruce wishes he could forget. Still, it haunts him every year, coming around like an anniversary or a holiday. A sick reminder of his first Robin, stripped from him so suddenly and without warning.

Not only were you the first to break Dick’s walls when he was first adopted, you were Bruce's first apprentice. He never signed adoption papers for you, but he may as well have. Bruce won’t admit, especially now, how you also broke his own walls. He didn’t know what he was doing, adopting Dick and training you as well. Sometimes while out on a patrol, Bruce worries he leaned too much on you while he tried raising Dick. He worries that’s the reason you left, that he might’ve driven you out one way or another.

Bruce remembers the slow acceptance that grew between him and Dick when several weeks passed without a single call from you. You weren’t going to return to the manor, and perhaps even the city, any time soon. You were gone for good.

“For good” being eleven years, almost exactly.

It was no surprise Bruce was able to recognize your presence watching him from afar; afterall, he’d been the one to teach you how to camouflage into the shadows. What was a surprise, however, the fact you’d returned at all. He had to stop himself from physically jerking away when you landed behind him on the rooftop.

Several beats of silence followed your arrival. All Bruce had in mind were questions. And yet, all that came out was a simple: “You’re back."

His tone rings familiar; devoid of anything but monotone stoicism. He keeps his gaze forwards, like he can't bear to look at you. To be fair, there were numerous feelings sprouting at your return. Worry you might be hurt, confusion at why you left in the first place, but most of all anger you never bothered to let him know you were alive (or, maybe it was that same worry, only felt on a bigger scale Bruce couldn’t handle) (after all, fury was always easier to express).