Chapter 2
The plastic benches from the waiting room were really uncomfortable, so Jim had let Dick in the cops' locker room where actual beds were available. However, it smelled just as bad as the rest of the – precinct. Dick hadn't known what to expect but a sweaty, smoky atmosphere hadn't been it.
This was the night shift, Jim had explained, only half apologetic. Things became a bit better during day shift. But not much, Dick had completed internally.
He had still lain for an hour, pretending he was going to sleep. After the fifth more or less friendly stare, he slipped out of the room and started wandering. If asked, he could pretend he was looking for Jim Gordon's office. Dick knew where the desk was but they didn't. If he crossed paths with Jim himself… he could pretend he was going to the restroom?
On the other side of the building. Totally.
In the end, he didn't have to give any explanation because when he sneaked next to the main office room, he heard a familiar voice. Bruce Wayne had apparently joined them at the police station.
"… can go back there?"
"We aren't sure", Jim Gordon's voice answered. "He apparently doesn't have any relative at the circus. Only his parents."
They were talking about him. Dick stayed put behind the corner, hoping they would stay put. If he remembered correctly, there was a coffee machine over there, so they might just do so.
"No will establishing a legal guardian?" Bruce asked.
"Most people don't prepare for something like this. Your case was… different."
"It always is, in my circles", Bruce stated, matter-of-factly. "What will happen to him, then?"
Jim sighed.
"Maybe he can stay there while we look for relatives, until the circus leaves town. If we don't find any…"
"Gotham CPS."
Dick shuddered. What did this mean, until the circus leaves town? He was going with them! They were family! They couldn't take him away from them! And yet… Who would he live with? He couldn't keep his parents' caravan, not by himself.
He swallowed. The fall was not over, after all.
"I will find another way", Bruce decided, his tone final. "Where is he? Can I talk to him?"
"He's sleeping, or pretending to", Jim answered.
A performer recognized his cue. Dick cleared his throat, stepping forward.
"Hello, Mr Wayne. I should probably give you your coat back."
The man's features were oddly soft for someone who had sounded so wary only a few seconds before. Dick smiled tentatively. Both Bruce and Jim smiled back.
"I told you, you need it more than I", Bruce reminded him, which didn't make sense anymore since they weren't outside; it wasn't so cold in there. "Don't worry, I can buy myself a new one."
Dick opened his mouth to protest, ready to shake the coat out of his shoulders where it was still hanging. But then… Yeah. Maybe it was still a bit cold.
"Thank you", he said instead.
Bruce's answer was interrupted by a blonde woman who stormed out of the main office, her jacket hanging on one arm while she was trying to put on the other, detective Bullock on her heels.
"We have a problem", she told Jim. "Gilda Gold has just been abducted."
Jim swore. Dick blinked. He'd just learnt a few words.
"The DA's fiancée, just what we needed!" Jim complained. "So the Families decided to carry on their threats."
"I'm going", the woman said. "Allen is joining me at the scene."
"Do you need back-up?"
She glared.
"I was just asking", Jim commented mildly.
She didn't deign to reply, rushing to the door instead. Bullock fixed himself a coffee, cursing beneath his breath. Bruce's face had gone from soft to icy, then switched to worry when Jim's attention went back to him.
"I have to go", the billionaire said. "Harvey Dent is a friend, I can't leave him alone after this. If anything happens to Gilda…"
He looked at Jim, who nodded, then at Dick, whose eyes widened. Was Bruce Wayne asking him if it was okay to join his friend whose fiancée had just been kidnapped?
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Dick enquired. "I can give you your coat back some other time."
Amusement lit Bruce's face very briefly. The man nodded, formal.
"I will be in touch. Dick, Jim…"
Dick watched him as he left, noting his purposeful stance. He hoped that guy's girlfriend would be fine. Tonight… There had been enough sadness for one night. More than enough.
Dick swallowed.
"D'ya want me to keep an eye on the brat?" Bullock asked his partner. "You know, if you want to take some air on the roof."
Jim, who had been ready to reach out to Dick, scowled at Bullock instead. The fatter man shrugged.
"What? Not wanting rodents around, all of a sudden? Not like he'd help, anyway. Going around in a costume like that without backup nor nothin'? Someday, we'll have rodent pizza or a special porridge, if you know what I mean."
"Harv. That's enough."
Dick froze. Wait. Was he talking about Batman? Was it Batman that he saw on the big top? Batman was investigating his parents' death? Hope burst into his chest, almost painful – and was quickly replaced by dread. Batman was going to keep looking for Zucco, right? It was Batman. He helped everyone. He wasn't going to let it go in order to look for that high-profile girl, right?
Dick felt sick at those thought. Why would his parents' death be more important than that very alive girl? But… What if Zucco was never stopped?
"Kid…"
He glanced at Jim, who had been observing him.
"I guess I can't stay here until we have news?" Dick asked, trying for a joking tone – but it got out tired.
"I'm afraid so", Jim sighed, apparently more annoyed at Bullock than at Dick for spying on him. "I'll talk with the social worker to see if you can go back to the circus…"
When they had left, the place had been full of cops and panicked spectators. The big top had been closed to the public, but it would have to be – to be scrubbed. Haly would have to handle the mess. Everyone was certainly distraught.
Dick couldn't stand the idea of their avoiding looks.
"Maybe not tonight", he suggested. "Maybe you can convince them tomorrow?"
Jim studied him in silence. Then nodded.
"Alright. I'll make a phone call to check where you will spend the night. Go back to the waiting room, I'll meet you there."
"Okay."
Jim raised his eyebrows.
"Not somewhere in the building, son. In the waiting room."
Dick blushed and nodded quickly. The cop's mustache twitched, which Dick was starting to recognize as a refrained chuckle. He wisely decided to ignore it and to head for the waiting room.
The benches were still uncomfortable. Fortunately, he only had to wait for about twenty minutes. At that point, Dick was wishing he had slept earlier. His hands were shaking with exhaustion and he was grateful for the coat.
He wished he had grabbed Elinore before leaving the circus. It was silly to still have a plush at twelve but right now he didn't care. He wanted some warmth, and softness, and his mom, and – he couldn't think about her or he was going to cry.
"Son?" Jim called from the door. "Are you alright? I mean…"
Dick got up. It required more will than he'd thought.
"Yes, sir, no problem. Are we going?"
"Yes, we are. There is an available room at St Rita's orphanage. The sisters will take good care of you. It's a quiet place."
Dick followed him. He definitively needed some quiet.
They took Jim's car this time rather than a patrol car. He didn't turn the radio on, and let Dick sit at the front with him. They rode silently through the sleeping city. It was late, early, even. Dick felt his head roll to the side, heavy with tiredness.
Finally, the car stopped. The building was huge, and ancient, and dark. A big wall surrounded it, with a portal, which opened to let the car in. Jim parked in front of the entrance where a nun was waiting.
Before opening the doors, though, Jim turned to Dick, handing him a card.
"It's mine", he said. "I will call you if I have news but I want you to have my number as well, just in case."
Dick took it, a bit startled. Jim got out of the car before he could thank him properly. He put the card safely in the coat's pocket and followed.
"Thank you for opening your doors so late, Sister Mary Elizabeth", was saying Jim.
"No need to thank me; we're glad to help. You must be Dick. Welcome at St Rita's; I will show you around tomorrow if you don't mind."
Dick only wanted a bed, possibly with two or three blankets. He didn't protest.
"I will show you to your room, then."
The two adults exchanged a few niceties Dick didn't really register. Ten minutes later, he had been lent pajamas and given a bed – and he was asleep.
sososoDays crawled by. The sunny weather hadn't lasted – Dick had been told it had been exceptional in Gotham city – and since that evening, the sky had been uniformly white. Well. As uniformly as an old classroom wall, Dick guessed. Gray-ish with some darker spots.
Classrooms. He hated them, he'd discovered. He had always been homeschooled, the only possibility, really, when one lived on the road. Sitting still and silent for hours was pure torture. Besides, the hard truth was that his level in History and Biology simply wasn't as good as he'd thought.
By the end of the afternoon, he was busier playing with Jim Gordon's card than listening to the teacher. He jumped when the bell rang, freeing him at last. He grabbed his things, ready to run outside, but Sister Helen called him back.
"Mr Wayne is here for you."
Dick blinked, surprised to hear such an important person was taking the time to visit him. He had investigated the man a bit, though (read: Googled his name) and had learnt that he was an orphan too. Apparently, everyone in Gotham knew as much. Being such a public figure, Bruce himself must have assumed Dick knew, which explained why he had been so easily casual when they'd first talked – and proved being a billionaire didn't make you a genius.
"For his coat, I suppose", Dick answered to the question Sister Helen hadn't asked.
She was more curious than she would like to admit and he didn't want to give explanations. She nodded wisely, satisfied, and accompanied him to the hall where Bruce was waiting.
The man relaxed when seeing Dick, then gave a perfectly fake smile at the nun.
"Thank you so much for taking care of him. Would it be possible for us to go for a walk in the park? It hasn't been raining. Yet."
"Of course, Mr Wayne. Dick, didn't you say something about a coat…?"
"We will take care of that when coming back", Bruce assured her. "If you don't mind, Dick?"
Dick was trying not to laugh.
"Not at all. Shall we go?"
Bruce's eyes sparkled.
"After you."
Dick exited the hall, grinning, the older man on his heels. He wasn't that old, he noted. In his twenties, or something. His hair wasn't white like Jim's, nor his face wrinkled.
"So. How are you doing?"
There was no point lying to someone who lived this too. Dick shrugged.
"I'm not overjoyed. The place is okay, I mean the sisters are nice and all. But it's not… it's not home. And they don't have a trapeze, I can't practice."
Not that practicing had much of a point if he wasn't to perform ever again, he didn't add. This was the worst: not knowing where the future might lay. The only certain thing was that nothing would ever be the same. His parents wouldn't be coming back. That void wouldn't be filled.
He was helpless. He hated it.
Bruce didn't offer vain promises.
"Any news from Jim?" he asked instead.
Dick shook his head. Then hesitated. He hadn't dared talk about this to Jim because cops didn't like heroes, right? Nor to any other adults because, honestly, he didn't want them to laugh at him. But to Bruce… He had a feeling Bruce would take him seriously.
"Batman is investigating", Dick admitted. "I saw him, that night."
Bruce didn't seem surprised. Was Batman such a given in Gotham? Dick had thought he was more of an urban legend. People didn't even agree if he existed or not.
Yet, the billionaire hadn't even blinked at the admission.
"Batman is a very busy person", he simply said. "Though I'm sure he's doing his best, you shouldn't put too much hope in him."
Dick sighed. It was so frustrating to know who was responsible and not to be able to just go and confront him! That would certainly be more useful than sitting in a classroom to learn algebra.
"Did they find Miss Gold?" he enquired.
This time, Bruce's pace changed slightly. He was surprised Dick had remembered? Or maybe just worried about her.
"Not yet. No ransom, either. I think Harvey has been contacted directly but he wouldn't admit it."
"I read an article about him. Incorruptible, right? Is it why they went after her?"
"It might be."
Dick nodded. He wasn't a gothamite but who hadn't heard stories about this city? Even at the circus, they had known. That was why they had performed without a net that night. Because Gotham was one of those places where you had to really impress people to get to them.
They sure had been freaking impressed.
"I hope she'll be alright", Dick commented, then couldn't help but to add. "Will Batman help her, too?"
Bruce put his hand on his shoulder, like the first time, and it was a comforting weight. He was wearing the same cologne which still lingered around his coat.
"I'm sure he will do his very best, in both cases. He's just a man, though."
Dick nodded.
"That's fine. If he does his best, it's the most important."
sososoIt was drizzling. Nothing thick, just little drops that made the atmosphere more humid than wet, as if people were walking in a cloud. There was no mist, though. Just the same dirty-gray sky as ever. It was of circumstance, Dick guessed. Funerals were supposed to be depressing, right?
Except… Except he didn't think his mother would have liked that. She would have wanted people to tell stories about her and her favorite jokes, dance on the music she liked, maybe perform a small show just because they could and were still alive.
His father would have wanted people to drink some cider, to raise their glasses to the times when he was there to raise his. Maybe some music on the background for him, too, something Jazzy and slow. And a picnic on the grass, he loved those, with giants three-cheese sandwiches.
Neither would have imagined they'd die at the same time, Dick thought. Nor had he.
Everyone from the circus was there. They wore their very best. Some had obviously had to buy something black to put on. Neither mom nor dad would have minded them being dressed in green and yellows, Dick decided.
The priest was talking and talking. Dick felt the urge to tell a joke. Everyone would start laughing, then be embarrassed, then laugh even more because of the embarrassment.
He refrained himself. People would probably be more angry than amused.
He was supposed to cry and be serious, right? One out of two wasn't so bad. People would think he was being serious just because of the tears, too.
Bruce and Jim were there too. Jim was dressed in black but wore his eternal beige trench-coat, which Dick thought was a nice change in the sea of blacks and… more blacks. He himself was wearing his favorite red scarf, which he had hidden in his bag so Sister Mary Elizabeth wouldn't comment on it.
It was only one of their three colors but that would have to do.
A hand pressed his shoulder with a weight which was now becoming familiar. Dick looked up. Bruce was silently handing him a handkerchief.
A black handkerchief.
"Seriously?" Dick whispered while accepting the piece of cloth and pressing it to his eyes. "Even the handkerchief has to be black?"
"It's charcoal", Bruce confided.
Thankfully, Dick managed to muffle his laugh in the fabric, pretending to blow his nose.
Bruce's gloved hand rested on his shoulder until the priest finally stopped talking. No one commented on it, maybe because rich people had the right to do anything they wanted without being frowned at. For once, Dick was grateful for this specific bit of discrimination.
Then he had to go forward to salute the coffins in their hole. He wouldn't be giving this charcoal handkerchief to Bruce. It was going to be ruined.
He would have to thank him, later.
Everyone came to him to give him their condolences. It was horrible. Each of them wanted to tell him how much they'd loved his parents, how much they were going to miss them. As if Dick didn't know that. As if Dick wasn't going to miss them more than anyone else ever would. They were his parents.
He tried not to think about the fact this would most probably be the last time he'd see some of them. The circus had been supposed to stay in Gotham for three nights only; they had canceled the show in Bludhaven so they could stay four more days for the funeral. As soon as they'd go back to Gotham Village they would be packing their things to leave the next morning.
It was not fair.
There was supposed to be a few drinks before the funeral was declared officially done. People were slowly moving from the cemetery to the church after greeting him. Dick stayed there until there was no one left to shake hands with – no one except Jim, who was waiting for him.
"Do you have news?" Dick asked the cop.
There had been none for the last four days, none since that night. Even before Jim opened his mouth to answer, Dick knew there would be none today, either – the cop's shoulders were way too low, as if he had to carry the world's weight.
"Not yet."
Dick stared at him. Then paled. There were news. Bad ones.
"Please tell me."
"Haly did admit someone came talk to him", Jim said, "though he swears he doesn't remember any name. No one saw anyone suspicious after nightfall. I already told you the ropes were burned with some kind of acid, so it was definitively murder, but…"
"But you can't link it to Zucco", Dick finished, livid. "But there is someone with that name, isn't there?"
"There is", Jim admitted reluctantly. "He and his wife swore they were at home."
"And you have no one to contradict him. But it was him! Who else would have wanted to hurt my parents?"
"Are you sure they got along with everyone at the circus?"
"No, I'm not, but no one there would have taken the risk to hurt me!" Dick yelled, before realizing what he had just done. "I'm… I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to shout at you. You're doing your best, and I know you do, and…"
"Don't worry, son", Jim said softly. "I am the one who should apologize. I know they're family to you."
Dick rubbed the humid handkerchief on his eyes.
"You're doing your job."
Jim nodded.
"For the record, I don't think it's anyone from Haly's. Like you said, they wouldn't have wanted to hurt a child, and doing this during a performance? Bad for business. Bad for morale. Besides, they would have had a harder time buying the chemical, not being familiar with the city."
Dick was shocked to feel submerged by a wave of relief. He hadn't believed anyone from the circus would have hurt his parents, but… it still felt so good to have it confirmed.
"I'm afraid I can't stay any longer", Jim said.
"I know, you have a job…"
"Actually, my daughter has a competition at 4PM, and if I don't get her there in time she's going to raise all seven circles of Hell against me."
Dick grinned despite his cheeks' wetness.
"Then go. I wouldn't want her to miss her turn."
"You should get to the church. People are waiting for you here."
Dick nodded absentmindedly. Jim studied him, not moving away. Dick blinked, then realized the cop wouldn't move as long as he wouldn't head toward the church, so he did.
Bruce was waiting for him on the way there.
"I saw you were talking to Jim, I didn't want to intrude", the man said.
"It's fine. He… He still doesn't have news, Bruce. Zucco has an alibi and no one saw him at the circus. What am I going to do if they find nothing on him?"
"Dick…"
"They're going to leave and my parents are dead, and their killer is just going to… Enjoy it? That's all? There's no way it ends like that!"
Dick hadn't expected himself to explode, yet it seemed right. After days spent waiting, worried about his future in this stupid orphanage, worried about his parents never being avenged, impotent to do anything to help – yes, he wasn't sad, he was angry.
And righteously so. If Batman was too busy, if Jim couldn't do anything because the law wouldn't let him…
"I'm going to talk to Zucco myself", Dick declared.
Bruce's face fell at those words.
"You can't. And I do mean that. It is way too dangerous… Zucco is an unscrupulous man. He would only laugh at you if you go, probably hurt you."
"I don't care! I will find proof that he was there. I will make him talk!"
Bruce reached for him, but Dick stepped back.
"Who are you to tell me what to do anyway? Because your parents were killed too doesn't mean you have anything to do with me!"
"Dick… Please, listen to me."
"I don't have to listen to you, nor to anyone!"
Dick turned around and started running. He heard Bruce call after him, then the heavy pace of the man actually going after him – and he accelerated. The shiny shoes he was wearing weren't good for this kind of exercise, but he didn't care. He went straight for the graveyard's wall and jumped – like this – grabbing the wall's border and pushing on his arms – then landed on the other side.
There was a thump: Bruce had tried to jump over the wall in one movement and failed. Dick accelerated, slaloming around the passerby then crossing a road, dodging a car. He kept going until his breath felt like fire and his legs were trembling.
Then, only, he turned around. Bruce was nowhere to be seen. He was alone.
sososo
Ending notes: For those who wonder, yes, it was Sarah Essen :) I hope you enjoyed the story so far!
