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BATSCHEME
Chapter 11
According to Conner, Mr. Kent – Would it be improper to call him Clarke, Dick wondered – had come over to help Bruce with a case similar to one that had also occurred in Metropolis. Figuring that meant Bruce and Clarke would probably be in the batcave, Dick confidently led the way.
It wasn't until he started to take a turn towards the direction of the study that he noticed that Conner had already anticipated the turn. His eyebrows furrowed.
"You've been down there before" He realized.
Conner shrugged, a little apologetic "My dad and Bruce have been friends for a while and well… yeah. I figured since you live here, it'd be polite to follow you."
Dick snorted in an attempt to hide his brief discomfort. Of course, Conner knew the way. Of course, Conner had known Bruce for a long time. "Polite, huh? You seriously were raised by a boy scout." He muttered.
Conner's lips twitched into a smile. "Yep."
Dick grin lasted up until he finished picking the lock of the study. Then he quickly sobered up.
Because this was it. Once the passage to the batcave opened, Bruce and Clarke would be immediately alerted to their presence. If Clarke wasn't already.
Dick held his breath for a second and Conner gave him a sideways look. Okay? He seemed to ask. Firmly, Dick nodded. Let's do this.
Pushing away his remaining hesitation, he moved the hands of the grandfather clock. It started descending upwards when Dick heard a sudden Whoosh and before he knew what was happening, he was suddenly standing on the floor of the batcave.
And in front of his was one ticked off Batman with his cowl pushed back and one very red, very blue, hero.
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Bruce felt Clarke give him a long look and he inwardly sighed through his nose.
"So what's the deal with the kid?"
Eyes never leaving the screen, Bruce began to open his mouth but was rudely cut off by the boyscout. "And don't you tell me that he's some friend's son because you and I both know that you would never agree to look after a kid even if you did have close friends. Which your public persona doesn't have."
Bruce finally took the time to look away from him computer to send Clarke an irritated glare. "That kid and his reasons for being here do not concern you. Now, can we focus on your reason for being here? The suspect in both the Metropolis and Gotham cases used the exact same method of-"
Clarke crossed his hands in front of the 'S' on his chest. "Bruce, I'm not going to let this drop. You're taking care of an eight year old boy for Rao's sake!"
Muttering under his breath about journalists and their annoying nature, Bruce turned his chair so that he fully faced Clarke. "Fine. He's the son of my late ex-fiancé and because of certain complications needs to stay with me for a few months."
Clarke for his part just looked even more confused. Late ex-fiancé? He knew about Mary Loyd, Bruce's old flame and probably the only woman to every truly hold the dark knight's heart. Of course he'd never met her but he was in the media business and Bruce was a close friend (even if Sir Broody didn't like to admit it).
But he had heard no such thing about late… Mary was – dead?
"I'm sorry" He softly said.
Bruce's face betrayed no sign of emotion but Clarke didn't expect it to. He inwardly sighed; his friend might have been an expert at compartmentalizing his feelings into neat little boxes he could push away to the corners of his mind but it was doing the guy's emotional state no favors.
How was one supposed to heal if they couldn't even bring themselves to look at the wound?
Clarke knew better than to push any buttons related to Bruce's emotional baggage so instead he said nothing
He let the heavy silence hang in the air for a few minutes hoping it would absorb all the tension and give both he and Bruce time to gather their bearings.
"And so that's why you're taking care of the kid then, huh?"
Bruce only grunted and to the average person (and probably above average person too), the grunt would be undecipherable. Clarke had known the guy for years though and he'd gradually obtained a Masters Degree in the Grunt Language.
That specific grunt meant something along the lines of a casual 'yeah' … and casual meant no more ticking Bruce full of suppressed emotions waiting to go off. And that was good. So Clarke kept on talking.
"He seems to be a pretty cute kid, what with the big blue eyes and dark hair."
This time there was no grunt – instead, an incredulous stare was directed at him.
"Yeah, yeah. I know my son and me and you all have dark hair and blue eyes but this kid, his eyes are a blue I've never seen. They seem to radiate quiet innocence-"
A grunt cut him off… a grunt filled with all the qualities of a snort.
Well this was interesting. Perhaps Bruce's little guest wasn't as polite and innocent as he seemed. Or he was just like that with Bruce. Now that would be amusing.
As nonchalantly as he could, Clarke asked, "How's it going, by the way? You know, what with having to look after an 8 year old? I remember Conner was a handful at that age."
Bruce growled and actually spoke words. "Is this a social meeting or are we going to get work actually done?"
A grin suddenly spread over Clarke's face and a knowing glint appeared in his eyes. "It's going horrible, isn't it?" He chuckled and shook his head, "Who knew a kid would be the one to stump the great Batman? Never thought I'd see the day."
He saw Bruce clench his jaw which only made his grin stretch even further. Amusing, indeed.
And yet a little curious as well. Clarke's grin dampened slightly; somehow, he sensed there was another reason that coupled Bruce's obvious irritation. But what?
They spent the next hour or so working on the case with Bruce making connections between seemingly irrelevant things and Clarke making jet-fast flights to both crime scenes so they could double check on some facts.
Then Clarke's ears picked up the voice of his son and afterwards the voice of the kid – Dick? – from above the cave. Like directly above it. That could only mean one thing… they were in the study. And Clarke could only think of one reason why.
But Conner would never give away the secret identities of anyone in the league – especially not the identity of Bruce or his own dad. Conner understood the grave consequences that could result if he wasn't careful with sensitive information.
Yet for some reason, he and Dick were up there right now. If Conner hadn't said anything, then that meant…
"Dick knows who you are." It wasn't a question.
Bruce's head jerked up and he actually looked surprised for a fraction of a second before annoyance quickly replaced it.
"Don't tell me…" he carried off.
"That your charge and my son are in your study right now? Okay, I won't."
While Bruce glared at him with an irritated expression, Clarke tried to process all the new information and it abruptly clicked.
Irritation. Another reason.
Oh.
"That was what you weren't telling me." He realized, half-talking to himself. "That and –" Against his better judgement, he let out a sharp laugh full of bewilderment. "He knows my identity too, doesn't he?"
Bruce grunted and Clarke shook his head in shock. "Smart kid. Wait." His brain suddenly caught up with the repercussions of someone knowing his secret identity. "He isn't a threat… right?"
Finally, the bat spoke. "No, he's not."
"In that case... wow."
It was a surprise that one small kid had somehow managed to find out various super hero identities (Because Clarke had a feeling that the kid knew more than two) but Clarke also knew Bruce well.
Kid or not, if Bruce had truly suspected that Dick was trying to hurt the League, he would have done something about it – something like detaining the kid and interrogating him.
And if Dick wasn't a threat, then Clarke was going to relish in the fact that an 8 year old had bested the bat. And in the process maybe get to know said 8 year old better. Who knew, maybe he was a fan.
The sound of the grandfather clock rising cut off any further thoughts and Clarke was instantly in the air. In mere seconds, he'd picked up both his kid and Bruce's and had set them both on the ground.
He was not prepared at all for what came next.
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In hindsight, Dick should've been more concerned with the fact that he was getting holes drilled into his head. In hindsight, he should've been more terrified at the fact that he was being subjected to the infamous batglare.
But the holes were figurative and it wasn't like Bruce hadn't turned the full force of the batglare on him before so he wasn't that worried.
What had mattered most at that moment was the fact that Superman was standing in front of him, with the S shield and everything.
So naturally, Dick tossed the plan of 'Be big and bad and bold and spill the beans like the rebel you are'. He could only hope Conner would follow suit (because it he was being 100% honest, Dick had mostly wanted Conner to help out for the sake of morale support).
"SUPERMAN! YOU'RE AMAZING AND AWESOME AND I CAN'T BELIVE I'M ACTUALLY MEETING YOU! I MEAN I ALREADY DID BUT IT WASN'T REALLY AND OH CRUD."
Well he'd spilled the beans in the most fashionable of ways. Complete with yelling at the top of his lungs and doing backflips like the 8 year old acrobat he was.
Frantically, his eyes sought out Conner who immediately came to his defense. "Dad, I know that no one is supposed to know about your secret identity but he already knew and I swear he would never do anything to put you or anyone in danger and-"
Clarke cut him off, "I know."
Dick and Conner stared at him in shock before the former finally recovered enough to wobbly ask, "H-how?"
Clarke gestured with his head at Bruce who was in the process of controlling his emotions. He wasn't succeeding that much and Dick could only imagine how much trouble he would be getting into later for his deliberate disobedience.
But if Clarke already knew about the secret both Dick and Bruce had agreed to keep, then…
Dick allowed himself a mini-smirk. Maybe all wasn't lost.
Then Clarke directed his gaze back at Dick. Superman's gaze since he wasn't wearing his glasses. Dick gulped. He always spoke too soon.
"I am under the presumption that you understand the things you know must remain a secret at all costs and that they can lead to severe consequences… am I right?" His voice was stern and yet at the same time caring. A father's voice.
Dick nodded rapidly, "Y-yes sir."
Superman's face finally loosened into a smile, "Clarke" he amended.
Dick smiled brightly in response and kept on grinning stupidly until Conner came up to stand beside him and gently pulled his away as Clarke and Bruce started to talk in hushed tones.
"See," Conner said, "That wasn't so bad. Better than I thought it would go anyway."
"Yeah," Dick agreed before a faraway look entered his eyes. "Your dad is pretty cool."
Conner's eyebrows drew together, "You okay?"
Dick smiled the best fake smile he could pull off at the moment, "Of course! I just met Superman!"
Something about his act must have been convincing because Conner didn't prod him any further. Dick was glad for that.
Conner had an awesome dad and it wasn't just because the guy was Superman. It was because the guy seemed genuinely kind and cheerful.
And Dick envied him for it. But it was okay. It had to be okay. Just like he did with everything else, he had to accept what he couldn't have and appreciate what he did. He'd just met Superman! Superman knew who he was! That had to be enough.
Conner nudged him with his shoulder, "Seriously though dude, I didn't know you were that much of a fan."
Dick had the decency to look at least a little embarrassed but even that didn't last. His eyes glazed over with bliss. "He can fly, Conner, fly."
Grinning rather cheekily at him, Conner offhandedly said, "Well you can fly too."
Dick's head snapped over to him, "hUH?"
"Hey Dad!" Conner called, "Can you give Dick a ride?"
Clarke looked over at them and smiled warmly, "Sure." But then he gave a sidelong look at the Bat, "If Bruce agrees."
If Dick hadn't been so anxious for an answer, he would've noticed the gleam in Clarke's eyes when he asked this.
And a few minutes later, after Bruce had given a terse nod of consent, he would've also noticed something else.
But he was too busy imploding with excitement and laughing happily as Clarke whisked him through the air. And when Conner was pulled along too, Dick definitely didn't have time to notice anything other than laughing with Conner and enjoying the rush of wind seeping into his body.
Later, when it was time for Conner and Clarke to go back home, he gave Conner a hug that left the older kid gasping for breath but grinning all the same.
And to Clarke, he also gave a huge hug and whispered a "Thank you" as he did. When Clarke asked "For what?" all Dick quietly answered was "For being kind"
After that, Clarke gave the kid another squeeze. With Dick pressed against his shoulder, he shot Bruce a disappointed stare.
It was clear the kid had been craving a hug from some sort of parent figure for a long time. Of course Bruce wouldn't budge though. Clarke too however, missed the brief unreadable expression that passed over Bruce's at the sight of Dick hugging Clarke.
The same one Dick had missed throughout the day.
When the Kent's finally did leave, Dick braced himself for an hour long lecture. It never came. Bruce barely glanced at him before he made his way towards his study.
And honestly, that hurt Dick more than any scolding could. He accepted what he didn't have and he appreciated what he didn't though. He patched up the cracks in his shell and recovered his wits.
He was exhilarated he'd not only met Superman but also made an awesome friend in Conner and a comforting one in Clarke. He really was.
But he couldn't and he wouldn't forget the real reason he was here.
It wasn't to make friends or meet heroes. It wasn't to have affection from his father.
It was to get justice for his mom.
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A figure crouched at the edge of a building, silently studying the different people that entered the place.
He adjusted the blue hood that framed his face and let a small smile spread over his face.
Sure, perhaps he hadn't found any useful information today but that wasn't the point of this stakeout. No, it was far greater.
Phase 1 of Operation DEAL was a-go.
After all, weren't businessmen all about deals? He'd just have to make one that couldn't be refused.
He pushed himself back into a handspring and executed three in a row perfectly. In a matter of moments, he'd disappeared into the night.
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AN: I know, I know, I said I was going off the grid until May but I surprisingly had some free time and well... I whipped this up!
It came so naturally and I was in the zone and yeeeaaahhh!
Anywho, my comments for this chapter include: Farmboy Conner with manners. Lol. Clarke annoying Bruce about Dick and the struggles. LoL. Bruce trying to act like he's totally fine with Dick being awestruck and respectful with Clarke and dealing with 'unreadable expressions'. LOL.
And along the comment line... THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT AND REVIEWS YOU'RE AWESOME.
And also, I usually respond to reviews of a previous chapter after I post a new chapter but I feel dead right now, Like I didn't even proofread. Sooo... answers to reviews from chap. 10 in PM's tomorrow! And proofreading.
Okay bYe! Hope you enjoyed and good night!
~LB