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AN: TimeLine -
Dick arrived at Gotham in the beginning of September and the story is currently less than a week into October (so like a month has gone by since chapter 2). He was with Mia for almost a week and he's been with Bruce for more than 3 weeks.
The dates used to be very important but I kinda changed some things in the story (a very major thing actually which you guys will find out about in like I dunno, 8 chapters or so?) so the dates aren't as vital. Organization still might help out though, soooo.
Last thing,
*Dick's birthday is December 10 (He is currently 8… Almost 9)*
*Bruce's birthday is February 19 (Bruce is currently 28… )*
BATSCHEME
Chapter 9: When Plans are Developed
By LavenderBlossom74
Dick's eyes opened to the sound of a loud BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.
He tapped his alarm clock and it silenced immediately. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked owlishly at the baby blue ceiling, disoriented for a few moments.
Slowly, fragments of what he'd done the day before started coming back to him… when he'd confronted Bruce.
And confronted he had.
He closed his eyes…
*Flashback*
Dick entered the den and approached the guy, staring defiantly at the man as Bruce looked up at him with an unreadable expression.
Finally, the guy spoke. "You can't tell anybody"
"You can't let Zucco run free"
Pressing two fingers against his nose, Bruce blew out air through his mouth. "Dick, it's more complicated than-"
"NO it isn't! It isn't complicated to put a murderer behind bars!" Dick narrowed his eyes and spat, "Or maybe it's just complicated to you since you apparently have more important things to do - apparently your mission is greater than making sure little boys don't become orphans."
His words had the intended effect. Bruce's gaze hardened and his lips became a firm line.
"Enough"
No! It isn't enough! Why do you only see the big picture? What about the small details? What about-"
"I said enough!"
The roar made Dick flinch but while he quieted down, his eyes remained blazing rebelliously.
"I don't how you found out who I am but -"
"Yes you do."
The man's dark blue eyes narrowed and Dick barreled forward, "Yes. You do."
There was a period of silence before Dick broke it.
"If you won't help me bring Zucco to justice, fine." He bit out. "But don't expect me to give up. Because I won't."
As he moved to leave, Bruce's voice stopped him. "Not. A word. Of any of this. To anyone."
Dick shook his head in unbelief before gazing coolly at him. "Because of course, that's all you care about. Save your worry, Mr. Wayne; despite what you may believe I'm not stupid."
With that, he walked out.
*Flashback End*
Dick opened his eyes and breathed in deeply.
He wasn't giving up - not when he wasn't even near his limit of ideas. Even though he hadn't liked the aftermath of what he was dubbing "Batcave night" (he had not planned on losing control or crying), he felt like he'd accomplished something.
Because before his flashdrive had committed suicide (he'd told it to do so since he was not letting Bruce get his hands on his programming), it'd sent the information it'd been able to obtain to Dick's laptop. That meant he had leads.
That also meant he had a plan. Fragments of it had begun forming as soon as Dick had left the Batcave three days ago. Well, as soon as Dick became rational and able to think properly without seething or feeling the urge to sink his fist into a face… Repeatedly.
He knew he'd been unfair to Bruce in what he'd said. But anger and pain made you do unfair things.
He knew Bruce couldn't save everyone but it gave him some twisted sort of satisfaction to be able to make Bruce feels just as lost as Dick did.
Bruce was a target - someone he could direct his anger at.
Zucco was his primary target but it wasn't like Dick knew where the guy was; what was the point of aiming at a target if you had no clue as to its location?
Dick had needed to someone he could lash out at: that someone had turned out to be Bruce.
And maybe it was wrong for an 8 year old to have so much pain and darkness in him. Maybe it was wrong for an 8 year old to have so much hatred, such an urge for revenge.
His life was wrong too though so was it really surprising?
His mom was dead. Killed. His father could care less about him - his father didn't even know he existed.
But no matter, he couldn't do anything about it: he was broken and he was damaged but he could still fight.
Tony Zucco would not get away - Dick wouldn't allow it. He would make Bruce help him.
He wasn't stupid: how was he supposed to find a gang mobster on his own? Truth was, he couldn't.
He had a plan however. Bruce was a businessman, right? So he knew all about deals and exchanges, right?
All Dick had to do was make him an offer the guy literally wouldn't be able to refuse.
For now, Dick would sit tight and sail along. He would pour over every bit of info he'd able to retrieve from the bat-computer and he would use whatever useful information he could get to further develop his master plan.
He did not plan on going down easy.
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Bruce glared at the monitor in front of him as his fingers flew over the keyboard.
"Wow. That kid surprisingly actually did know what he doing" he muttered to himself. He'd been trying to hack into the boy's flashdrive for the past 20 minutes now but he'd been unsuccessful.
Growling, he entered one last command before running his program. Finally, he was in.
And the flashdrive was blank.
Sighing, Bruce shook his head and leaned back into his chair. All that work for nothing.
Alfred, who'd been keeping to the shadows behind Bruce, stepped forward.
"Nothing, sir?"
Bruce grunted, "No."
After pouring him a cup of coffee, the butler hesitated as he stepped back once again. "Hm." He said noncommittally.
Bruce turned to face him as he raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Something bothering you, Alfred?"
The man pursued his lips before he began to speak. "It is the young master sir."
Bruce's face automatically brought forth a stoic mask at the mention of the boy.
He chose his words carefully, "What of him?"
"If I may Master Bruce, that boy is clearly still dealing with the loss of his mother. He has not healed yet and at the rate he is going, he may never do so - not unless he is helped."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, "And what exactly would you have me to do, Alfred?"
How was he, prime example of someone who never healed supposed to help a young boy.
"I daresay I am quite sure you know what to do, sir." Alfred paused. "Pushing that child away will do nothing good for him… or you."
"Who says I'm pushing him away?" Bruce retaliated. "And if I am, it's for good reason."
"Is it truly, Master Bruce?" From the tone of the inquiry, it was clear it was rhetorical.
Alfred said nothing more and Bruce swiveled his chair back around. He pondered.
He'd never intended to breathe a word to Dick when he'd first relented to Mia about looking further into taking care of the boy.
And yet he had.
Bruce had encouraged him, possibly even helped him do better on his exam... Dick had broken through Bruce's steel walls without so much as trying. Without Bruce even noticing until it was too late.
Bruce had spent his whole life locking everyone out of his life and throwing away the key to his doors; how had one tiny kid defied that?
How?
Because he was just like his mom and Mary Loyd had done the exact same thing. But Bruce couldn't afford to loosen his walls - he couldn't afford to let anyone in. Anyone who came in, never left unscathed.
So the best solution he had was to simply push the boy away. It was borderline cruel and probably had hurt the boy to witness Bruce's actions towards him but it had been for the best.
Bruce told himself it was for the boy's own good, that anybody he let himself get close to ended up suffering.
That it was dangerous inside Bruce's walls and the the boy was better off outside them.
But somewhere far deep down within him, he knew it wasn't the complete truth.
Bruce breathed in deep to clear his head before bringing up his latest case to distract himself.
Even as his sub-conscious revealed his true motive: He didn't want to be hurt. And letting anyone inside the walls of a cold heart only ensured that he would be.
*~0~*
She spared the Gotham Skyline one last glance. Her old life was over.
Smiling softly, she settled a hand on the growing baby inside her. Her new life was just beginning.
"Mary? You okay?"
She looked over at John Grayson, her very unlikely savior. Closing the blinds of the trailer she now occupied with him, the skyline disappeared completely.
"Yes" she answered
And it was true.. Even as the train she was on pulled her further and further from the only home she'd ever known. Even as her future in Haly's Circus still remained uncertain.
She was okay.
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AN: First of all, SHOUTOUT to iLoveMyRobins for correctly guessing Bruce's motive for acting cold to Dick.
Second of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Finally, sorry this took while. I was kinda unmotivated after last chapter's response. I'd expected it to be the bomb, right? Like be epic and awesome and whatnot. And it was a bomb because it exploded in my face.
Chapter 8 had the lowest reviews I've had in this story so yeah. After expecting so much of it… yeah.
Honestly though, at the end of the day, I don't write to be recognized (though support does definitely motivate me). I write so that other can enjoy my work even if they don't voice it and I write because I like writing.
So yeah, I'm jumping back up kicking and punching and ready to put this show on the road. Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed!
