That was the problem. He didn't regret losing essentially his identity or needing to cloak his ties to the family as best he could, understood and accepted his need to be buried.
It was costly, though. This was his home, his family, his city. Bruce had taken him in when he was just an unruly little circus kid in sneakers hell bent on finding his parents murderers. Bruce had been there when he said his good byes to the circus folk, and yeah, he'd been scared watching that train leave the station with Bruce standing still and silent, a marble statue like his marble home that was so solid in ways that Dick couldn't fathom. He couldn't be that still, and found out Bruce didn't need him to be, showing him a newly built trapeze for him to expend his energy on. He'd learned Bruce didn't say he loved, he instead did little actions to show it, to give proof he was thoughtful of the boy that would flip from his beautiful antique banister... and grew up to be the young man who still flipped from his beautiful even-more-antique banister. And when Bruce didn't have enough words or little comforts to settle him, there was always Alfred, soothing hurts, fussing at him to get back in bed and care for injuries properly. There had been arguments, fights even, but when the circus had left, this was home.
Well, the train was leaving again, and this time he knew staying at home wasn't an option. Not unless he wanted to go crazy downstairs or be constantly hiding from guests.
For a moment, he was still, staring off to one side, just the gears turning behind those intelligent blue eyes. It was weird, but yes, he could stand still, internally processing everything, all the different venues, letting her words sink in, what the pros and cons were. Then he was moving again, as though he'd just been on pause briefly and was pushing himself on his feet, smile playful.
"I'll have some stipulations, you know. I like to be fed regularly, can't sit at a desk for more than an hour, I only want one boss and you're the unlucky one, and Phil can't do his frowny thing at me. It hurts my feels. Have you told Bruce you're stealing me?"
That was a yes. The incorruptible acrobat (because she wasn't wrong--there were rules Dick didn't bend on and had the willpower to stand by) was agreeing.