Chapter 11: Planning
AN: Hi again, everyone! XD I'm sorry I haven't updated my other story in forever! . I'm having a little bit of writers block on it :/ So, I'm updating this one again, then working on a request :D I'm so excited! It's my first one and I hope I do them justice! Anyway, on with the story! ^.^
Bruce stares at his computer intently in his office at Wayne Enterprises, checking Dick's vitals for the hundredth time that day. He sighs heavily, glancing at the mountain of paperwork on his desk and groans internally. It was going to take a couple more hours, at least, to finish everything. Why did work have to be so busy on the day he wanted to leave early to check on his son? He grabs a small stack of the papers irritatedly, setting them in front of himself to start trying to shrink the mountain. Just as he picks up his pen to start the dreaded paperwork, his cell phone rings. His eyes narrow as he fishes it out of his pocket and checks the caller ID. "Damn Boyscout." He grumbles before answering the call. "This had better be important."
"Bruce! Has Diana gotten a hold of you? Your comm link isn't working." Clarks' anxious voice reverberates through the other line.
"She called me for the codes to Watchtower. Something about a malfunction."
"What? She told you it was a malfunction? Someone hacked Watchtower and set off all of the alarms!"
"Did you find the hacker?"
"We tracked the signal back to your manor! Meaning it was one of your birds. Not to mention the fact that there were attacks in Metropolis, Jump, Star, and Central! Has there been any attacks in Gotham?" Bruce frowns, spinning around in his leather swivel chair to look out at his city.
"Interesting…Gotham has been quiet...however, that means the League is no longer in my manor?"
"Well…just your sons, but-" A slow smirk makes its way onto Bruce's face.
"I see. Well, I don't know what happened with the Watchtower. It was probably just a fluke or something."
"You know it had to have been Damian or Tim! They're the only ones who-"
"Look, Clark. I have a lot of work to do, and clearly I'm not needed for any crisis. Call me when something actually important happens."
"You're just going to let them get away with this? They hacked into our base, Bruce! And organized the criminals to attack at the same time!"
"Now you're starting to sound like West. Tim and Damian would never organize a group of criminals."
"Then Jason would have! And what about the hacking!"
"I hardly see what the problem is. Clearly no harm was done to the base. It merely proves that we need to increase security. As for the criminals…apparently you and the others should stop spending your time eating my food and more time patrolling your cities." With that, the billionaire hangs up, smirking to himself. The little plan his birds hatched was cleaver. He slips his phone into his pocket before getting up, and slipping his coat on. The Dark Knight walks out of his office, glancing over to his assistant. "I'll finish the paperwork tomorrow. Dick got into a motorcycle accident and is recovering back home. I want to go check on him."
"Oh my! Of course, Mr. Wayne! If I can help in any way, just let me know!" The short burnet states sincerely, having seen Dick grow up. When Dick was younger, he used to visit Bruce at work all the time, and she would always help babysit if Bruce had a meeting. The billionaire smiles at her politely, nodding.
"Thank you so much. If you can cancel my meeting in Dubai next week, it would be much appreciated Tracy."
"Consider it done!" She starts typing on her computer quickly as he beams gratefully before heading for the door. He had to have a little chat with his birds.
Wally paces around Roy's living room, his brow furrowed as Roy sighs heavily. "You're going to wear a hole in my carpet." The archer grumbles, sitting down on his sofa.
"We have to come up with a plan! You know Damian came up with that plan…all of the birds are so damn possessive of Dick…but we knew him first!"
"I know…but we can't prove anything…the Demon is very good at hiding his tracks."
"Exactly! This is why we need to get even!"
"And how do you suppose we do that?" Wally frowns, flopping down on the sofa next to Roy.
"No idea…we should get Kory and Kon though…at least then it'll be four against three." Wally nods in agreement, whipping out his phone.
"Hopefully they'll have some ideas too."
"Yes, because you're not one for planning." The speedster glares over at his best friend.
"I come up with plenty of plans!" Roy rolls his eyes.
"Sure you do. Just get Kory and Kon over here."
"Fine." Wally pouts, dialing their fellow heroes.
Dick stirs slowly in the infirmary, looking around the white sterile room. He frowns, trying to sit up, but Alfred hovers over the acrobat, gently pushing the Bat's the firm chest back down on the bed. "I am sorry Master Dick, but you're not well enough to get up just yet." Dick sighs, rubbing his aching head.
"What happened? And where's Slade?"
"Well, Master Bruce brought you back here after you blacked out from your injuries. He then took care of Deathstroke."
"What about Damian, Tim, and Jason?"
"I believe they had a hand in bringing Deathstroke in. At the moment, however, they are upstairs. Your friends in the Justice League were here earlier to visit as well." Dick frowns, shifting in the bed uncomfortably.
"They were all here? I didn't want them to know I was injured."
"You have Master Clark to thank for that." The acrobat groans in annoyance.
"Perfect."
"I also believe you have quite a number of suitors after you as of late." Dick blinks, before looking up at Alfred, confused.
"What?"
"There was quite a brawl over your attention by not only the Young Masters, but members of the League as well." Dick's cheeks flush and he looks away.
"N-No I don't! They're just really friendly! And freaking out because I'm injured!" Alfred's mouth twitches upward slightly.
"Whatever you say, Master Dick. Shall I get you something to eat?" Dick nods, his cheeks glowing darker. He shrinks back in bed as his stomach growls loudly in the silent room.
"Yes please." He states quietly, fidgeting with the blankets on the bed.
"I'll go make your favorite then." With that, Alfred disappears out the door as Dick pulls the covers over his head. Everyone wasn't fighting over him…were they?
Bruce walks into the kitchen, setting his briefcase down on the counter and glances over at his birds, who freeze instantly upon seeing him. "Are the uninvited house guests still here?" He asks no one in particular.
"No. They left several hours ago." Tim states, not making eye contact with his adoptive father.
"I see…" Bruce glances back at them knowingly. "At least my food supply is safe now that West is no longer devouring everything in sight." He grabs a bottle of water, closes the fridge, then turns to face his sons, who were all looking in different direction. "Just make sure they can't track your signal next time." He states before walking off, no doubt to head downstairs to check on Dick. The birds tense, all looking at each other.
"He knows!" Tim cries out, covering his face with his hands. "We're so DEAD! Why did we let you talk us into this, Damian?"
"Tt. You're overreacting, Drake. Yes, Father knows. Clearly, he doesn't care." Damian grumbles, physically relaxing slightly. Jason notices, and smirks.
"Ha. You thought he was going to chew us out!" Damian glares over at him.
"Of course I did! If we had not done it for Grayson's best interest, we would have been in trouble. It was my idea, so I would have been taken off patrol!" Jason snickers, rolling his eyes.
"You care too much what he thinks."
"You don't care enough. You're only here because you can't say no to Dick's kicked puppy face." Tim mumbles, rejoining the conversation. They all jump when the familiar butler appears seemingly out of nowhere in front of them.
"If you are quiet done arguing, would you all assist me in making Master Dick's dinner? He is awake and rather famished." The three instantly perk up, hopping out of their seats, awaiting orders. "Since Master Dick had lasagna recently, why don't we make him his other favorite meal?" They all nod in agreement, ready to assist in any way possible. Alfred always knew how to quickly brake up arguments.
FN: Poor Dick…he's so adorably oblivious :P