The Comprehensive Evolution of American Comics.

Chapter 1097 Dick's Identity Crisis

"I'm all alone at home today, so I'm here to freeload dinner."

After handing the schoolbag to Alfred, Barbara asked him, "I'm sorry, Alfred, I'm sorry to trouble you."

“It’s alright, Miss Gordon,” Alfred said respectfully. “It’s just an extra set of cutlery. Young Master Dick can take you to the drawing room. Dinner will be ready soon, and I’ll let you know afterward.”

Barbara's father, being the Gotham City Police Commissioner, is not usually home for dinner, so Barbara often has to cook dinner by herself. In the past, she would either cook for herself or order food by phone.

Since becoming acquainted with Dick, Barbara would frequently come to Wayne Manor to freeload, so neither Dick nor Alfred were surprised by her request.

Bruce had no objection to this, after all, Gordon was one of his few comrades in Gotham, and there was nothing wrong with taking care of the latter's daughter.

Alfred was quite pleased, glad that young master Dick wasn't like Bruce, who didn't have a single good friend before becoming a masked vigilante.

Barbara usually travels back by car with Dick, but tonight, for some reason, one of them is in a car and the other is riding a bicycle.

As a veteran agent who once worked for MI6, Alfred immediately saw through the awkwardness between the two young men and accurately realized that his young master Dick was the weaker party in this relationship.

It seems the little boy made a mistake, but thankfully the girl was willing to give him a chance to make amends.

Alfred saw through it but didn't say anything. Young Master Dick wasn't like Bruce; the former wasn't thick-skinned enough to withstand the old Englishman's humor and sarcasm.

Under the watchful eye of the old butler, Dick led Barbara through the door to the reception room.

Dick had been living at Wayne Manor for a long time, and this was only the second time he had felt so uneasy since he first entered the house.

A few minutes later, Barbara broke the silence.

"So, you're not going to tell me anything?"

"Huh? Oh!" Dick realized what he meant and quickly said, "I'm sorry, Barbara, I shouldn't have said those frivolous things to you."

Barbara raised an eyebrow, displeased, and said, "You mean what happened at noon? Please, I'm not angry anymore. That's not what I want to hear."

"No... these, then what are they?" Dick asked, puzzled.

“Dick Grayson, or should I call you Robin?” Barbara said deliberately, her face darkening, in a menacing tone.

It has to be said that Dick was indeed startled, but not by Barbara's appearance or tone, but by the topic she brought up.

"What are you talking about, Barbara?" Dick asked, feigning confusion and pointing to himself.

"You're saying I'm Robin? The sidekick who's always with Batman? Please, that's not a funny joke at all."

"Stop pretending, Dick," Barbara interrupted impatiently. "You know what kind of person I am; I won't speak without concrete evidence."

“My dad is the chief of the Gotham Police Department, so I know some inside information that others don’t. I’m also good friends with you. You may not have noticed it yourself, but you have indeed left quite a few loopholes.”

Barbara pulled out a small purple notebook and tossed it to Dick, who immediately opened it and found that it contained some evidence that could prove he was Robin.

However, these were all time-related pieces of evidence recorded by Barbara herself, and there was no so-called irrefutable proof. But even these were troublesome enough for someone who wanted to keep his identity secret.

"Phew~" Dick closed his notebook and let out a long sigh. "Alright, Barbara, we need to talk."

"I thought you'd put up a fight." "Then it wouldn't be me, and I believe you didn't bring these up to blackmail me."

Seeing Dick solemnly saying something about believing in herself, Barbara rolled her eyes and unconsciously smoothed her hair.

"You guessed right. Here, take the notebook. Do with it however you like. I came here purely because I was worried about you. You've been acting strange lately, Dick."

"It's just another issue with my identity." Dick stopped hiding it from Barbara when she saw that his identity had been exposed. "Don't worry, I can handle it."

"When you say you can handle it, do you mean daytime spacing out?" Barbara was speechless. "Do you know that I actually discovered your identity a long time ago? Several times, I was the one who covered for you."

Dick had no idea; he thought his disguise was very good.

"The homecoming dance." Barbara's expression turned hostile. "You left me, your dance partner, alone at the dance. If I hadn't seen in the newspaper the next day that you helped the police take down the Jokers, I definitely wouldn't have given you a kind look."

Dick looked embarrassed, and the living room fell silent again. After a while, Barbara broke the silence.

"Let me help you, Dick."

"what?"

“I said I’d help you,” Barbara emphasized again. “You must have been very busy lately, and I can help you with some of that.”

“No!” Dick objected. “Barbara, this isn’t a game, it’s dangerous, absolutely not.”

"So what?" Barbara pouted. "You became Robin when you were twelve, and I'm sixteen now."

“That won’t do either.” Dick’s attitude was very firm. “Superheroes aren’t as glamorous as they seem. I can’t push you into the fire.”

Barbara wanted to speak after hearing this, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Mr. Dick, Miss Gordon, dinner is ready."

“We’ll be right there on Alfred,” Dick answered loudly at first, then lowered his voice to say to Barbara.

"There's no room for negotiation. Even if you use my identity to threaten me, it won't work! I can't just watch you put yourself in danger."

Barbara was initially quite angry, but after hearing Dick's next words, her anger somehow subsided, and she muttered to herself.

"They just say nice things."

After saying that, Barbara ignored Dick and got up to push open the door, bumping into Alfred.

Barbara responded softly and walked towards the restaurant on her own. She had been to Wayne Manor several times before and knew the way to the restaurant very well.

Dick sighed and walked out of the drawing room, just as he heard Alfred say something beside him.

"I arrived just in time, didn't I, young master?"

“The timing was perfect, Alfred,” Dick sighed. “If it weren’t for you, I really wouldn’t know how to persuade Barbara to give up.”

(End of this chapter)