Hey y'all. Sorry, I've been slacking off….it's summer. Not my fault. But, really, I've been working on another story, so I'm gonna put this one on the back burner. The other is further along..I'm just making this one up as I go….so…yeah. sorry. R&R

We walked into the kitchen just as Addie was placing Dinner on the table for everyone. I cut the T.V. on to watch the news, they were talking about some giant panda at the zoo…not really classified as 'need to know' information in my book. I sat down in between Joey and Addie. I head Dick say his little prayer…I'd have to get him out of that….

"In other news, there is a shocking development in the Hale's circus tragedy that took the lives of Mary and John Grayson. Officials say the tragedy was no accident. Traces of acid have been lifted from the high wire. Commissioner Gordon of the GCPD days quote: "There is strong evidence that this case is a double homicide." Forensics are running prints found on the ladders. Officials also say that they do have a suspect under watch. We will keep you updated as this story unfolds. Down town Jump city has been involved in-" I cut off the TV and looked over at Dick. He was still looking at the now blank screen.

"What's a homicide?" he asked after a long moment. Addie and I looked at each other. How were we going to tell him that his parents were murdered? He was just 8!

"It means someone killed your mom and dad." Grand answered bluntly. I looked at Grant, about to scold him for his insensitive answer, but stopped short as I looked at Dick. The emotions that crossed his face were almost unbearable. First confusion, then shock, sadness, then the tears came. One at a time, slowly emerging from his crystal blue eyes and rolled down his small face. He sat perfectly still, not a muscle moved, as he took in the information. His breathing rapidly increased, his eyes widened. Slowly, he stood up from the table.

"Dick…" I began. He closed his eyes and shook his head before turning to run out of the room. I turned to Grant. I was at a loss for words, so I just glared angrily at him. His face remained emotionless.

"What? It's true!" He said.

"Enough. Don't speak about it again. You had no right." The font door opened and closed quietly.

"Slade, go after him." Addie said. I stood and followed Dick outside. I opened the door, expecting to see Dick on the steps, but he was no where in sight.

"Dick?" I called. Nothing. I walked out into the yard. "DICK! Come here!"

Still, no answer came. I sighed.

"RICHARD!" I called in a deep, intimidating voice. The voice reserved for crime lords and victims. Still, he did not answer. I walked to the back yard to look. I saw a small foot disappear behind the shed. I walked over a peered behind the it. He wasn't there. I looked under. "Richard?" He wasn't there either. "What the hell?" I said to myself. Where had the boy gone? Had he somehow gotten inside? That wasn't possible…there was no way to get in except through the door… I walked out from behind the shed and yet again saw the little runt running towards the house.

"Dick! Stop!" I called as I raced after him. He disappeared around the corner of the house and when I finally reached it, he had yet again disappeared. This corner of the house was a dead end….the only way he could have gotten out was if he scaled the house and jumped the ten foot fence, and I highly doubted he had done that. I glanced down at the window that led to the basement. It was small…I knelt down and tested the lock. It easily pushed open…that meant…Dick was in the basement. The basement that no one is allowed in. I trained in the basement…all of my equipment and weapons were down there…and so was Dick…

I bolted back to the front of the house and ran through the kitchen to cabinet where I kept the key.

"Slade? Did you find him?" Addie asked. I ignored her as I ran through the house to the basement door. I slammed the key in and threw the door open.

"DICK!" I called. I knew the kid was down there, but yet, he did not answer me. I walked to the back of the room. The rope that hung from the ceiling was moving. I glanced up to the beam where the rope was secured. I saw his shoulder protruding from the beam

"Dick. Come here. Right now." I demanded. He didn't move. I suppressed a growl in my throat.

"If you don't come down, I'm coming up, and that is the last thing you want." I warned. Finally, a response. He peered over the edge of the beam and looked at me through teary eyes.

"How…how did you know I was up here?" He asked.

I pointed at the rope. "It was still moving."

He still made no attempt to come down. "Now. Dick. I will not tell you again." He still didn't move.

"Get down here. NOW!" I barked. He jumped at the harsh command and began to descend the rope. He slid down and stopped just above my reach.

"You just told me again."

I grabbed the rope and began climbing. He scrambled back up, but I was faster. In one quick swipe, I sent a forceful smack to his squirming bottom.

"OW!" he yelled. The sharp slap made him pause in the middle of the rope. I took that moment to grab the back of his shirt and pull him into my arms.

"NO! Leave me alone!" He screamed. I was shocked at his outburst. He had not yelled at me, and I had never seen him act so badly. He hit a pressure point in my shoulder, effectively rendering it temporarily useless, and kicked me in the gut. He vaulted himself out of my arms and onto the floor. He rolled over his shoulder and made it to his feet smoothly. I slid down the rope using my good shoulder and stared at the kid wide eyed. The kid stood in front of me defiantly, anger on his face and tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.

I took a moment to reflect: First, he squeezed through the window and into the basement, not to mention, he hid on a beam 20 feet in the air, he climbed down and back up the rope quickly and quietly, he hit a pressure point in my shoulder with dead on accuracy, launched himself out of my arms and made a perfect landing…

"Are you aware you just hit a pressure point in my shoulder? As well as landed perfectly?" I asked.

"So?" He asked. "I do it all the time." He replied as he rubbed his backside where I had smacked him.

My jaw dropped.

"I suppose you learned this…"

"In the circus." He spat.

I nodded.

"Watch your tone, young man. No one is allowed to be down here unless I authorize it. Understood?" I demanded. He nodded.

"And next time I tell you to come to me, You do it right then. Don't ever run off ever again. Clear?"

He nodded again.

"Ok." I said. "Now get."

He looked shocked that I was letting him go without a reprimand. He deserved one, but seeing as how he had just learned that his parents were murdered, I let him go. Surprisingly, he walked back over to the window and climbed though easily. He could have just used the door…nonetheless, I walked over and locked it securely behind him. I did not want a repeat of today. I walked back up the stairs, locking the door behind me, and went back to the kitchen. The others had already eaten and left, so, I heated my food and took it to the office. I could hardly believe what Dick was capable of. I honestly didn't know anything about him…I didn't know his likes and dislikes, or what he was used to…hell, I didn't even know where the kid was from…His accent wasn't exactly Russian per se…but closely related. It was smoother and flowed better than the rough Russian accent. I set my plate to the side and opened the drawer where I kept his adoption papers. I rifled through them and found that his full name was Richard Johnathan Grayson-Now Richard Grayson Wilson-he was born on the first day of spring, and was a legal citizen of the USA. He had been raised in the circus, no surprise there, and had never had any legitimate schooling. His parents were Romanian. That meant Dick was likewise Romanian. After further investigation, I found that he was indeed born in the small country. He grew up there for a few years, and learned the native tongue before his parents and he joined the traveling circus, where he learned English. Romanian…that must be what I hear in his smooth voice. It sounds like honey sliding off his tongue when he speaks. It's different, but a nice different. He had been doing acrobatics his whole life. Why should I fear for his safety? He's perfectly comfortable in the air, and like he said, if he isn't afraid, why should I be? He was a circus kid, a Gypsy…an orphan. But, amongst all of these, he was a protégé, and a perfect candidate for my apprentice.

Like I said, I've run out of ideas for this story…so, if y'all have any ideas, leave a review and I'll consider it…please and thank you!