Disclaimer: These guys aren't mine.

Quick response to a few reviews. Sleuthy: Yeah, I guess I see what you mean about the Romani; but I'm too lazy to change it, and I wasn't planning on doing any other detailed memories like that. It was just a onetime thing. Emberflames7: There are still a few things I want to do before he becomes Robin, and I wasn't planning on adding the Justice League in this story; but I am considering doing a different one with them in it (so don't freak out on me, okay?). Thanks to everyone else who reviewed! On with the story!

Chapter 21: Justice I

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For a moment Dick forgot how to breathe.

He was too shocked seeing Zucco's name on the screen. After four months of nothing, he had started to lose hope that the man would ever be seen again. He'd had plenty of time to run. Why would he still be in Gotham?

Dick's heart seized a little as one thought crossed his mind… Was Tony Zucco waiting for a chance to kill him? He remembered the dream he'd had about being thrown off the roof and shuddered involuntarily. He knew nothing about it had been real, but even now he still hadn't shaken the idea that he was meant to die with his parents. The ropes had just snapped too soon.

He glanced up at Bruce, who was scanning the report with narrowed eyes. It had to have been nearly twenty-four hours since he'd last slept. Dick could see how exhausted he was. But even so, after a moment he pulled the cowl back up and turned to leave. "You should go back to sleep," he told the boy as he walked to the weapons board to restock his belt, "I'll be back soon."

Dick frowned and shot an incredulous look at the man's back. Did Bruce honestly think there was a chance he could sleep now?

He glanced back at the computer, his eyes quickly scanning over the report. Aside from the time of sighting and the address of an apartment building, there was also a short profile on the man. The words 'mob boss' stood out the most, and answered the question of why he hadn't left the city. Here he was a leader among criminals, if he moved he'd be starting at the bottom again. His men had probably been hiding him until the pressure wasn't as great for his capture.

But then Dick spotted something else that made his eyes widen in surprise. There it was in black and white. Zucco had been a circus kid.

Just like Dick, he had grown up performing in the Big Top. But the Zucco's had specialized in knife-throwing. And Tony Zucco had learned everything there was to know about the art from his father… the same father he had accidently killed while performing.

It took a moment to process. Dick knew that accidents happened sometimes, especially with such dangerous acts. For a while he'd thought his parents' death had been one of those accidents. Zucco had to have been devastated when it happened, knowing it was because of him. How could he live with himself knowing he'd done it willingly all these years later?

Dick heard Bruce's footsteps on the metal walkway that led to where he kept the vehicles and he felt a surge of panic. Without thinking, he ran after the billionaire with surprising speed. He caught up to him just as he was opening the door of the Batmobile and grabbed his arm.

"Bruce, don't!" he begged, "Don't go!"

The confusion that couldn't be seen on Bruce's face was evident in his voice, "Why? You want him to go to jail don't you?"

Dick made a face at the question. "Of course," he said, "But I don't want you…"

"Don't want me to what?" Bruce pressed when the boy trailed off.

Dick didn't say anything and just shook his head. He didn't want Bruce to get hurt. He was Batman and he was a good fighter, but he was also exhausted; Dick could tell by the way his shoulders were sagging. Batman never slouched.

And Tony Zucco was an experienced knife thrower who would be aiming to kill this time. He'd been a teenager when his father had died, he'd have to be in his thirties. Plenty of time to work on accuracy. What if Bruce wasn't fast enough to get out of the way? He and Alfred were the closest thing Dick had to a family now. He didn't want to lose another one…

"Please," he said his voice barely a whisper. Bruce sighed and gently pried Dick's fingers from his arm.

"I'll be fine," he tried to reassure the boy, "If I don't get him now he could disappear again."

"Then he'll undisappear later," Dick tried to convince him. He didn't give Bruce time to correct him before he continued, "You're tired, I can tell. You can't go… at least," he looked thoughtful, "not alone…"

"Dick," Bruce's voice held a warning. But he didn't seem to hear it; his eyes lit up with the idea.

"Bruce, I can help you," he said enthusiastically. Bruce opened his mouth to protest but Dick wouldn't let him. "You saw me earlier," he persisted, "I'm getting better, I can handle it. I can watch your back, Bruce."

"No."

"But-"

"No buts," Bruce said firmly, "You're not coming with me, Dick. End of discussion." Dick looked like he was about to argue, but Bruce turned him around and nudged him towards the elevator. "Go to your room, Dick. I'll be back soon."

Dick looked back over his shoulder with a mixture of frustration and worry. "Bruce…" his tone was slightly desperate.

Bruce gave him a small smile. "Don't worry," he said climbing into the car, "I never lose a fight, remember?"

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Dick sat on his bed rocking back and forth with nervous energy. He didn't want to just sit there waiting for Bruce to get back. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that something would go wrong. That Bruce would end up getting hurt… or worse.

He hopped off of the bed and began pacing. He'd seen his dad do it a lot when he was stressed, though it had never seemed to help. Not that there was much to stress about at the circus. But there was that one time when Dick fell into a pond near the fairgrounds around Thanksgiving time. Pneumonia was not fun. Even if everyone was fussing over him and he got to drink from a twisty straw.

Dick sighed and looked at the clock. He frowned. It certainly didn't feel like it had only been five minutes.

His eyes drifted to the poster hanging over the nightstand. Once again they were drawn to the words 'death-defying'. His heart wrenched. His parents had never fallen before Tony Zucco came along.

And Bruce had never lost a fight…

Dick' eyes narrowed stubbornly. He had to do something. He couldn't lose another person he cared about. The only question was; what could he do?

He sat down again and racked his brain. Looking around the room for some form of inspriration, his eyes happened to fall on the poster again… and he got an idea.

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It took roughly fifteen minutes to get to the run-down apartment complex by car. Unfortunately, eight year olds can't exactly drive and Dick doubted he could even reach the pedals to try. So he was stuck going on foot; even though he'd found the shortest route on the computer and had been moving fairly quickly, he still felt it took too long. And it didn't help that he had to keep to the shadows, but there was no telling how many crooks came out at night in Gotham.

Besides, if a little kid walking alone wasn't enough to attract attention, his outfit certainly would.

It was the first time since the day he arrived at Wayne Manor that he had even looked at his old performing outfit. Now he was wearing it.

It was just like Dick remembered. Red on top, green on bottom, form fitting, easy maneuverability. There were a few changes though. Tennis shoes instead of the thin fabric ones used in acrobatics were one thing; they would protect his feet better and be more effective for kicking. He'd also brought a dark jacket to help blend into the darkness like Batman did. The suit wasn't the best choice for sneaking around, but it had better mobility than any of his other clothes.

Dick had also made two other changes to his appearance before leaving the Manor. Both done in hopes that Zucco wouldn't discover who he really was. He didn't think the man would think twice about killing him either way, but he was afraid that if Zucco did know and managed to catch him… he might not be satisfied with killing Dick quickly.

So Dick had made an effort to conceal his identity. The first thing he'd done was carefully remove the 'G' that had been sewn onto his costume. It had taken a few minutes to get it off without tearing it to pieces, but it was important to him. He didn't have very many personal things to remind him of his parents. His mother had added the 'G's to all of their outfits by hand the year he joined them on the trapeze. Maybe Alfred could help him put it back later.

The second thing he'd done was look for something to hide his eyes, like Bruce's cowl did. Dick's knew they would be a dead give-away, emphasis on 'dead'. People were always telling him they'd never seen eyes the same shade as his. Even his mother's weren't exactly like his. It would've taken too much time to make a mask though, so Dick had grabbed a pair of sunglasses he'd found while exploring the cave weeks before. Bruce must have made them for undercover work or something. They were pretty high-tech; with heat sensors, a tiny camera for recording video, and most helpful at the moment… night vision. And it was all controlled by a small matching wrist-watch.

A wrist-watch that was beeping quietly at the moment. Dick's heart quickened a bit in anticipation. That beep meant he was near the Batmobile; which also meant he was near the apartment… and Zucco.

Dick sped up through the dark alleyway he'd been walking down and saw the distinctive car parked in the shadows. Bruce was still here; either in stealth or in trouble.

"Can't help him from out here," Dick mumbled under his breath. He studied the buildings. The one Zucco had been spotted going in was to his left. One problem solved. Now he just had to find a way in without being seen.

He walked deeper into the alley, past the Batmobile, and found a dead end. No doors, no holes in the walls; he looked up and saw the only windows were on the floor above him. Then he noticed the fire escape, which could've worked… if the ladder were about a foot lower.

Dick sighed, wishing he had one of Bruce's grappling guns. Unfortunately the only things small enough to fit in his jacket pockets were a few Batarangs.

There had to be another way to reach it. He was too small to move one of the dumpsters and the Batmobile wasn't close enough for him to stand on to get up there. But the wall…

The ladder couldn't have been more than two feet from the dead-end wall.

"Hmm," Dick hummed thoughtfully. He studied the distances for a moment and then backed up to the car's bumper and faced the wall. He took a deep breath… and ran straight at it. Just before he would've hit it face-on, he jumped and planted one foot as high up as he could. He pushed off, twisting his body in midair and latched onto the bottom rung. Without even pausing for a breath, he clambered up the rest of the way and flipped onto the platform.

He allowed himself a small smile; piece of cake.

He stepped up to the window and tried to look inside, but it was covered with so much dust and grime he couldn't see anything. Carefully he eased the window open an inch, not very surprised to find it oiled; this must have been where Batman had made his entrance. He pressed his ear against the crack and listened. Nothing. Not even a creaking floorboard.

Dick opened the window the rest of the way and took one last look behind him. His last chance to just turn around and hide in the Batmobile until Bruce was finished.

Somewhere in the complex a gunshot rang out followed by multiple voices shouting. Then the crashing noises of fighting.

Dick slipped through the window without another thought and ran to the door.

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Okay, so I was going to try to do the whole scene with Zucco with no cliffhangers; but seeing how long it's been since I updated (and that it would probably take me all of tonight and half of tomorrow to finish) I thought I'd split it for you. I'll try my very absolute hardest to get the other half posted tomorrow… at some point in the day. Promise.