Questions and Answers

When Tim woke up the next morning – not that he had gotten much sleep, but Alfred wouldn't be happy if he didn't at least pretend to get a healthy four hours a day – the first thing he did was press a mask to his face and dash down to the Cave. The Talons were still down there, and he really wanted to talk to them.

Unfortunately, when he skidded into the medbay, they were both asleep. He walked closer, intent on poking Dick in the shoulder to wake him. His hand was still a good foot away when the Talon shot out, grabbing his wrist and pushing a pen into his jugular. After a tense moment, Dick blinked the sleep out of his eyes, saw who he was holding, and dropped him, muttering an apology.

"Hey, no big deal. I should have known better than to sneak up on a Talon." Rubbing his neck and fairly sure that he had a blue line on it now, he pulled a chair to Hood's other side. "Speaking of, why?"

"Why what?"

"Every other Talon tried to kill me whenever I ran into them. But you didn't. You talked to me. You saved Batman when I was worried about him. Why?" It was a question that had been bothering him for months. Years.

Dick gave a tired smile. "I don't remember much about my life before the Court." It was a non-sequitur, but it made Tim sit up. He had a feeling there was a point to this. "That's what they do. Take away your memories so you're more effective as a tool. I have a vague impression of a face, arms wrapped around me, the smell of hay and popcorn, the feeling of gliding through the air. And the first time I saw Hood, I got a small bit of conversation too.

"I think it was my mom. She was telling me I would make a great older brother. And at that moment, that's all I wanted. To be Hood's brother. But after I finished training him, they put me in cold storage. I don't even know how long. Four years, on and off. In all that time, I didn't see Hood. I missed him. I'd only known him for a week and I loved him like a brother.

"Then I met you. You reminded me of him, so much. When we first met and you asked me why I cared. Hood asked me that too. Then as time went on. The way you regarded me with suspicion the first time we talked. The way you tripped over your own feet and missed hits. The way you smiled at and wisecracked every villain you came across. But you were softer, quieter, more bent towards thinking rather than acting. About a year ago, I realized that I thought of you as my brother too. Probably had been ever since I laid eyes on you, just like Hood. That's why I never tried to kill you. You mean too much to me."

Tim didn't know what to say. There wasn't much to say, really. Dick didn't seem to need a reply, he simply aired his thoughts without expecting the same in return, which Tim was grateful for. He didn't know what he thought of the acrobat-turned-Talon. A mystery, a potential ally, perhaps a friend. A brother? He'd never had siblings before. He didn't know what they felt like. But Dick had never had siblings either, but he had still managed to adopt two.

There was another question bugging him. "Why did you stop talking to me?" It had hurt. They'd talked, they'd shared a basket of fries, then three years of silence. Nothing.

"You got in the Court's way one too many times. They set a kill order out on you." Dick said it as if it was the most normal thing. A cult of people told their undying assassins to kill a ten year old. "Not a full blown one, just a if-you-happen-to-run-into-him kind of one. Secondary, is the technical term. If I had talked to you, they would have found out. Then my primary mission would have been to kill you. Once I succeeded, I would have been either reconditioned or tossed in Gotham Bay to very, very slowly drown." He sighed. "It was hard though. I really wanted to talk to you."

Wow, that was... wow. He didn't know what to say to that. At all.

So he changed the subject. Gave himself time to think over his feelings. Of course, living with Batman, he wasn't very good at that... "I wonder what Hood's reason was then."

"Hm?"

"Hood. He never tried to kill me either. We fought, plenty of times, and really convincingly, but I got the sense he was handing out pointers rather than going for a kill strike."

Dick leaned forward again and ran his fingers through the hair at the crown of Hood's head, the one spot not covered in bandages. "Who knows? Maybe Little Wing thought you were his brother too. He'll tell us when he wakes up."

When, not if. Tim had seen Hood yesterday. It had been hard to tell beneath all the blood, but that head injury had been really bad. Even as a Talon, he might not be able to heal from it.

They sat in silence for a few minutes when something Dick had said clicked in Tim's mind. "Wait, you said you can't remember anything from before the Court took you in?"

"Not much, no. It's probably in there. The memories. Just waiting for the right time to come out." His face was wistful. Interesting, that. When he had the Talon mask on, his face had been stone. A few quick smiles here and there, but beyond that... Without the mask, he looked like any other teenager.

Shaking away the thoughts, he could deal with those later, he pulled a smile onto his face. The more he thought about this, the more sincere it got, until his cheeks started hurting. "What if we found the right trigger? Batman has files on you. On who you were before. If we can access them..."

Dick blinked, then looked up slowly. "Maybe I can remember."

It was unbelievable. Red Wing had pulled him to the computer, chatting excitedly about this and that, and was currently typing in the fourth of his seven passwords. After all these years, maybe... maybe he could get a face to go with his mother's voice. And the arms, the ones that made him think of safety every time he remembered them. Were they his father's? Mother's? Did he have uncles or aunts or cousins or grandparents? Were any of them still alive? Why hay and popcorn? And there was a small snatch of music, one that flitted through his mind when he wasn't paying attention then vanished the moment he noticed.

Red Wing had the cursor over the file, but he hesitated. Biting his lip, the little crime fighter turned in the chair to face Dick. "I should probably warn you... this might not be pleasant."

"It's my memories. Good or bad, I want to know." He was a Talon. The Court had taken him when he was ten. Whatever was in there, the beginning was probably – hopefully – wonderful, but the ending had to be terrible.

With a nod, Red Wing double clicked.

Richard John Grayson, an acrobat in Haly's Circus, part of the Flying Graysons. His mother and father were the other two members of the act. They traveled the world, performing in hundreds of cities and in front of thousands of people. But when they reached Gotham City, someone cut the trapeze lines and John and Mary Grayson fell to their deaths. According to the file, someone named Tony Zucco was the suspected and convicted murderer. Dick himself had vanished mere hours after his parents' deaths, and was presumed dead.

As he read, memories flooded in, filling in gaps and adding colour to previously dim recollections. The arms wrapped around him were his father's, right after his first successful quadruple flip. His mother had made pizza that night to celebrate. Laying in a pile of hay behind the tiger pen, eating a bag of popcorn that Antoine the clown had slipped him. The large exaggerated wink had been hilarious with the clown makeup, and he had still been chuckling as he chewed his snack. The music was carnival music, but with a bit of Haly's flair. The old ring master had written it himself. Dick had been there the first time it had been played, listening in wonder.

And the trapeze. Nothing compared. Well, diving off of rooftops came close. It was definitely freer. But there was something about flipping and spinning, knowing that no matter what, his father would catch him, his mother would throw him straight to the middle of the platform. It was everything that Talon had missed in the past... eight years. If the date on the news article was right.

He had gone missing when he was nine.

He was seventeen years old.

Tears started coursing down his face. He finally remembered his family. After all these years... And nothing had changed. He still couldn't see them, hug them, laugh with them, eat with them, argue, make up, argue again, play with them, work with them, grow with them, cry with them, smile, hang out, read books, watch shows, perform, get caught doing mischief, continue doing mischief, offend, apologize, defend, get injured protecting them, injure protecting them, nothing. Everything was different and nothing had changed.

But he remembered. He had missed out on so much, but he had experienced so much. For those ten short years, he had had a family. And he remembered them. It was wonderful and terrible and absolute joy and miserable depression all at once.

And he was glad. Glad to have his memories back. Glad to remember. Even through the sadness. The pain of losing them made every new/old recollection glow like a precious jewel.

Wiping away the tears, he smiled down at Red Wing, who was watching him with a concerned look on his face. "Thank you. So, so much."

The little crime fighter looked a bit shocked, then returned the grin. "It was my pleasure."

It wasn't really an itch. Not an ache either. Just an awareness. The best he could describe it was as a tightness, on his skin, through his muscles, in his bones. The knowledge that something had healed. Or in this case, everything.

It was worst on his forehead, but his chest and back had quite a bit of tightness in them too. And his arms. And his legs. He was fairly sure it was in one of his eyeballs too, but it was more difficult to tell when it was the eyes.

Some things were still sore. Deep in his back mostly. There was probably a few microscopic shards of shrapnel in there. He could feel his body sluggishly pushing them out. That was uncomfortable. But other than that, he was mostly fine. So really, he had no excuse to be laying here with his eyes closed. No reason other than laziness and trepidation. When he did open his eyes, where would he be? The Court? Or somewhere better? Anywhere was better, really.

Ok, now he was just stalling. Peeling open an eyelid, he snapped it closed almost immediately. Not because of the light shining directly in his face, although that was a bit too bright. No, it was mostly in reaction to the sudden weight that landed on his chest and the arms that pushed their way under his pillow to circle his neck. Whatever kind of attack this was, it wasn't very effective. Whoever it was wasn't even cutting off his air.

Wait.

Cracking an eyelid again, he started. It was Dick. But why was Dick trying to strangle him? No, hold on. He had seen something like this before. People on the streets. This was a... There was a word for it. A hug.

He wasn't sure how to deal with this, so he just poked Dick's side.

"Little Wing! You're awake!" Dick's voice was much too cheerful. Hood wasn't really a morning person. Not that morning in the Court had meant much. Not that he was entirely sure it was morning now. But still. The sentiment was there. "I'm so glad you're awake and it would be great if you stayed awake this time and didn't pass out, it's been a long four days and I want to talk to you and-"

He took a moment to breathe, so Hood jumped in. If he didn't, it would probably be another few hours before he got a word in edgewise. "Four days? I was out for four days?"

He felt Dick's head nod from where it was nestled into his chest. "Yup. I was really worried because I've never seen a Talon take that long to heal before. Then again, I've never seen a Talon take that kind of beating before and live." His voice was steady, but a slight tremble in his arms gave him away.

Oh God, now he was shaking. Seriously, what had those people done when other people hugged them? Returned it, maybe. If he was remembering right. Reaching up as much as he could with a heavy Talon on his arms, he patted the older Talon on the back. Older brother? He didn't have any experience with siblings. But if it was Dick... he might be able to learn. "I'm here. I'm alive. Now get off." The last sentence was accompanied by a shove with his free hand.

Dick obliged and sat back, even though the push couldn't have been strong enough to budge him. Now free, Hood tried to sit up and failed miserably, falling back to his pillow. Silently, Dick pulled him into a sitting position, then elevated the medical bed so he could sit without taxing his back muscles. Hood didn't acknowledge it with much more than a look, but Dick still smiled a "you're welcome" at him. "So, what'd I miss?"

"Well, we're in the Batcave, with Batman, Red Wing, and a guy named Agent A who makes the best food ever. Red Wing looked me up on the Batcomputer and I got most of my memories back and Batman and Red Wing left in the Batmobile a few hours ago to patrol and-"

"Stop. Back up. You got your memories back?"

"Yup." And Dick relayed what he had learned and what he had remembered. Hood listened with wonder, so incredibly happy for his... brother. That was going to take some time to get used to. And the more Dick talked, the less jealous Hood got. If anyone deserved this, it was Dick.

"That's awesome Dick. I'm glad you remember." And he meant it.

Dick just ducked his head. Seriously, if he kept smiling like that, his face would get stuck. Not that he would complain. "Thanks Hood. And don't worry. We'll get your memories back too."

Not likely. He had been off the streets. Street kids didn't have convenient records that he could access on a Batcomputer. Speaking of. "Also, what's with all the Bat- named stuff? Does he actually call it that?"

"Hm? No, I started calling it that."

"Why?" No, really, why?

"Because it's not just a cave, it's better than all the caves. And it's because Batman is here. So it's the Batcave. Same thing with the car and the computer and those little throwing star things."

Ah, those. Hood had had a few embedded in his neck before. Very painful to pull out. "What did you call those?" He almost dreaded the answer.

"Batarangs." Ok, that one wasn't bad.

He sighed. "Alright. What else did I miss?"

A serious look crossed Dick's face. "The Court has been silent. As far as they know, we died in that warehouse, but there's been no retaliation. Joker was spotted tonight spray painting smiles on all the paintings in the museum. That's why Bats is out tonight instead of..." He trailed off.

"Instead of watching us. Got it." Hood really didn't blame the guy. Leaving two enhanced assassins in his secret base alone had to be a bad idea. Offering a wry grin, he continued. "A museum would have been perfect for an assassination. Lots of corners to hide behind."

"Not like a mostly-empty warehouse."

"Ha. True. But why are they waiting?"

Dick sat back, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Maybe they're planning? Two Talons couldn't take the Joker, maybe they're sending the rest?"

It was the best possible option for them. "I hope so Dickie."

Dick noticed his sudden melancholy. Of course he did. He scooted himself forward and wrapped his arms around Hood's shoulders. "We'll be fine Little Wing. You'll see." Hood wanted to believe him. But as long as the Court existed, they would be forced to run for the rest of their lives.

"Did you get it?"

"Yes Grandmaster. There was a camera on the building opposite. And... you won't like what we found."

"..."

"Right! Well. One of the Talons was in poor condition. It was carried out by the other one. And they were taken away by the Batman and his sidekick."

"They were captured?"

"No sir. They went... willingly."

"Prepare Protocol Fourteen."

"...Yes sir."

AN: Well that sounds ominous. Wonder what that's about. You know what, I bet Protocol Fourteen is code for "Next chapter is the last nice one for quite a while". Yeah. That sounds about right.

Someone was confused so here it goes: Dick is 17. Hood is 14. Tim is 13. And Dick is still taller. In the comics, Jason didn't really get any sort of height until after he came back from the dead. Not what happens here, obviously, but it'll be a bit similar.

Oh. And for the other Guest who reviewed. Happiness? Pft. Not for my characters. Not for a looong time.

Mwaha.

Read and enjoy! Loxie OUT!