A/N: Warnings for more discussion of child rape and a whole lot of victim-blaming.

Chapter 25: Objection

Dick sat awake early the next morning, burrowed under his blankets, the defence attorney's loaded questions and accusations swimming in his head.

"Why did you go to bed so early?"

"I was tired."

"You were tired. Tired from what?"

"School."

"Objection. Is this going anywhere?"

"Overruled."

"See, I have a theory, Mr Grayson. Perhaps you did not go to bed to sleep as you claim. Perhaps you invited these men over, deactivating the security for them so they could enter without-"

"Objection! This is blaming an underage victim for their rape."

"Sustained. The defence will refrain from accusing the witness."

"Underage he may be. But exactly how underage are you, Mr Grayson? When is your sixteenth birthday?"

"December first," Dick answered, grudgingly.

"December first! Mere weeks from today."

"Objection," Van Dorn said, not even bothering to hide her irritation.

"Sustained. The statement is irrelevant."

"What of my client, Luke?" said the defence attorney. "According to Mr Grayson's story, Luke here had sexual intercourse with him with a three-year age difference, which, according to state law, is perfectly legal. And, yet, my client is accused of-"

"Rape," Van Dorn snapped. "He is accused of rape. Not statutory rape. Rape."

"The prosecution will maintain appropriate court manner," said the judge. Van Dorn looked about ready to tear off somebody's head.

"Mr Grayson's homosexual tendencies are common knowledge," said the defence attorney. "I am merely presenting an alternate interpretation of the evidence."

"I didn't realise being attracted to a particular gender was an automatic sign of consent, sir." Dick balled his hands into fists underneath the witness stand. "I'm not the only person who was abducted. Many are younger than I am, and some of them are dead. Are you cherry-picking your evidence?"

"I'm asking the questions here, Mr Grayson." He turned briefly in the direction of the audience and turned back with a dark smile that put Dick even more on edge. "I see you brought your boyfriend to court today. How old is he?"

Dick knew exactly where he was going with this. "He's eighteen."

"The same age as one of my clients. Interesting. Have you engaged in sexual intercourse with Mr West?"

"No. Despite what the law says, it's still creepy for an adult to have sex with somebody who's underage. Your clients should take that into consideration next time they get a craving." Dick saw Van Dorn come very close to facepalming, but he'd reached his limit with this utter nonsense and therefore couldn't bring himself to care.

"Being, ahem, 'creepy' is not against the law, Mr Grayson."

"No, but rape is."

"That's enough," the judge said. "The witness will refrain from behaving disrespectfully."

"Am I being held to a higher standard than the guy with a law degree?"

"I said enough."

Dick had studiously avoided looking at any news coverage of the trial. He didn't want to know how many people were of a same mind as the defence attorney. He hadn't dared contact anybody from school, not even Barbara or Artemis. He didn't want to hear what his classmates thought of him any more than he wanted to hear the general public's opinion.

Wally yawned loudly from his spot on the floor. He was a blanket burrito with a tuft of red hair sticking out the top, until he sat up, kicked the blanket away and stretched his arms up to the ceiling.

"'Morning," Dick murmured. Wally flapped one hand in greeting while the other rubbed sleep out of his eyes. Jason stirred at the end of Dick's end and rolled off onto the floor with a grunt. He sat up with a confused frown on his face.

"Worst robin ever," Wally said. "Pff. Can't even fly."

"Bite me," Jason muttered.

"Did you teach him to talk like that?" Wally stage-whispered to Dick, who threw his pillow at him. It made him feel marginally better.

"No, but I'm proud of him anyway."

"Fair enough. Did you want to come up for breakfast?"

"In a minute. You go on ahead."

Wally zipped down the ladder. Jason climbed back onto the mattress and sat cross-legged where he'd fallen off.

"You could've asked for a blanket," Dick said. "I mean, look at me. I think I could've spared one. It's freezing down here."

Jason shrugged. "Didn't bother me."

"Okay, but something definitely is. You don't normally sleep in other people's beds. Not that I've noticed, anyway."

Jason winced a little, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess."

Dick wriggled his arms free of his blankets. "Okay, talk to me."

Jason found a loose thread in the mattress sheet and scratched at it rather than look at Dick. "What you said in the trial yesterday. About how they got you."

Dick caught on. "Ah. Gotcha."

"You didn't try to escape, because of me?"

"I was outnumbered four to one with a gun to my head," Dick replied. "I might've tried if they hadn't threatened you, but I probably wouldn't have succeeded."

"But you still would've had a chance." Jason still wasn't looking at him. "But you didn't try to get away, because they threatened me."

"Jason, it's not your fault."

Jason grumbled something under his breath that Dick didn't quite catch.

"Jason." Dick kicked off his blankets and climbed over to where his brother sat. "I'm serious. You don't have to feel guilty for sleeping in your own room."

"They raped you!" Jason spat, glaring up at him at last. "They raped you right in your room, just across the hall from me and I didn't notice a thing."

"Good!" Dick shot back. "If you'd heard, if you'd tried to protect me, they would've killed you!"

"I could've stopped them!" Jason's face was quickly turning red, his voice thick with tears Dick could see glimmering in his eyes.

"Jason Peter Todd, you are a thirteen-year-old child who would've been completely unarmed and unprepared to take on four grown men with guns who had a guy stationed at my door ready to take out anybody who tried to interfere. Meaning you. Meaning you would've lost the fight before you even got into the room. And then you'd be dead and they still would've taken me."

"You don't know that!"

"I'm pretty damn sure!" Dick grabbed Jason by the shoulders. "I had the element of surprise when I fought my way out of their van and I still didn't get away. You have less training, less experience and would've walked into a far harder fight than I did. You couldn't have helped me, Jason."

"Bullshit," Jason growled, tearing himself away. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of. You and Bruce... you're always underestimating me."

"Jay, Bruce would've had trouble in that room, and he's the goddamn Batman. And I probably would've been killed if I tried to come to someone else's rescue like that. I'm not trying to insult your abilities. I'm just being realistic here, okay?"

"Whatever." Jason headed for the ladder. "Doesn't mean I shouldn't have tried."

Dick shoved his face against the pillow and screamed into it for a good minute. He emerged from the nook into the batcave with that eerie sense of calm that often follows such an outburst. He reached the stairs to the manor at the same time Bruce finished descending them.

"There you are," Bruce said. "Jason shut himself in his room. Did something happen?"

"We argued," Dick replied. "Jason's convinced he should've realised I was being attacked the night I was abducted and should've tried to rescue me. I tried to tell him there was nothing he could've done, but he wasn't ready to hear it."

"All right. I'll talk to him later." Bruce motioned for Dick to come upstairs, and they made their way into the manor side-by-side. "How are you feeling today?"

"Not great." The things said at the trial yesterday weighed heavily on his mind.

"I could have Alfred bring some breakfast down to the cave," Bruce offered.

"No, it's okay. I want to see if I can handle the manor."

"There's no need to push yourself before you're ready, Dick." Bruce opened the entrance to the manor. "Nobody will judge you if you have to go back downstairs."

"Thanks, Bruce."

They made it to the kitchen, where Alfred had laid out a variety of dishes. Wally had a bit of everything on his plate. Dick took a rasher of bacon to nibble on, and Bruce went straight for the coffee. Dick noticed the dark circles under the man's eyes, and felt a hot swoop of guilt hit his stomach. Finishing that one piece of bacon suddenly became a herculean task. He excused himself as soon as he swallowed the last bite, ignoring Wally's questions and Bruce's silent concern.

It felt childish to burrow right back into the pile of blankets he'd left on the mattress, but he did it anyway. Wally followed him up a short time later.

"Bruce told me you and Jason had a fight," he said, kneeling on the floor beside the mattress. "You okay?"

"I haven't been okay in years," Dick grumbled into the pillow, watching Wally out of the corner of his eye. "Jason's not ready to accept he's not to blame for what Skinner and his friends did to me, and I'm not ready to handle him feeling that way. And Bruce looks like a fucking zombie and that's probably my fault, too."

"No, babe. It's Skinner's fault. You don't need to beat yourself up because you're having trouble coping." Wally slid down onto his stomach, holding himself up on his elbows so he could still see over the edge of the mattress. "I mean, you're not even the worst at dealing with it that I've seen. But, like, even if you were, that wouldn't matter. You're still allowed to have feelings, even if they're not very nice feelings. You can't control how that affects other people. Jason and Bruce are having issues because they love you and they want to help you. And, look, I'm not going to lie. Trying to help you isn't easy, but it's still not your fault. Whatever the rest of us are going through totally pales in comparison to what you're going through."

This was another one of those times where Dick could intellectually understand where Wally was coming from, but couldn't absorb what he was saying on an emotional level. The guilt was still there, and it was quickly spreading beyond Bruce and Jason's suffering, to Wally, and to Alfred. To Van Dorn who was having a hell of a time keeping the trial on track with an opponent determined to derail it at every opportunity, and Dick's mere presence handing the greasy bastard weapon after weapon with which to destroy the validity of the case. Dick never should've agreed to testify.

"I'm here if you want to talk," Wally said gently. "About anything."

Dick blew out a long breath. "I think I might've ruined the trial by testifying yesterday."

"What? Because of all that stuff the defence attorney said? The guy's an asshole, and he was way out of line."

"Does the jury think that?" Dick rolled onto his back and glared up at the wooden panelling Bruce had installed as a makeshift ceiling to stop bat guano getting into the room.

"If they do their jobs properly, yes."

"This is Gotham. That's a big if."

"You've got the DA on the case," Wally replied. "She's been fighting the corruption in Gotham for years, from what Bruce told me. You couldn't have a better person on your side."

"She's good, but I don't know if that's enough." All Dick could think about was the cross-examination, how she'd fought her ass off to get the defence attorney to play fair, only to end up having to be quiet rather than risk the judge sanctioning her. She tried, Dick gave her that, but there was only so much she could do.

Wally sighed. "Okay. You've got a point. We're in a fucked-up situation and totally at the mercy of the jury, but that doesn't mean it's going to end badly. Seriously, I've overheard people in the audience talking about it and they're horrified by what they're hearing. If the jury is made up of decent people like that, we'll get a conviction for sure."

God, Wally was trying so hard. And Dick wasn't giving him anything to work with. He didn't know how to fix that, and the helplessness felt like a hand on his throat. He swallowed against it.

"I want to believe that," he breathed. He also really wanted a hug, but he still felt too twitchy for that. He reached a hand out of the blankets. Wally caught on and laced their fingers together.

"I'll believe enough for the both of us. How's that?"

"It'll do." It was the next best thing to actually believing it himself, which probably wasn't going to happen. He'd try. That was all he could do.

They lay there quietly for a while, until Dick felt more stable. He really did need to talk about what the defence attorney said during the trial, and Wally waited patiently for him to be ready for that.

"Sooo," Wally said, after Dick had sat up and started folding up extra blankets he didn't need anymore, "Van Dorn fought pretty hard on that 'you invited the bad guys in' argument the defence attorney tried to cook up."

"She did," Dick replied, straightening the pile of blankets and getting started on the next fold. "We could just stick her in a costume and have her talk criminals into prison. It'd make our jobs easier. I'd certainly walk myself to jail if I had her directing all that at me."

"Yeah. Shame she had to shut up before the judge could get her in trouble."

Dick grunted in response. He was still angry about that.

"I feel like the judge wasn't doing enough to keep everything fair," Wally said. "I get that he had to let our favourite asshole speak, but it just seemed really... I don't know. Bullshit."

"Yeah." Dick lost interest in the blanket he'd been folding and tossed it aside. "I could've stood to have heard less of him practically parroting what Luke told me right before he shoved his..." Dick decided not to finish the sentence. "You know, I just love people telling me I deserve get raped by men because I happen to like dudes. It's great. I feel great. I feel like standing on a mountain and singing about how great I feel."

"That was so messed up. If I didn't have to worry about getting in trouble, I totally would've punched him in the face for you."

"I totally would've punched him in the face for me, too."

"We could take turns."

"Nice. We could punch him again for trying to shift the age of consent goalposts. And for trying to claim rape doesn't apply to me because of the small age gap legal shit."

"And for assuming we're sleeping together."

"And for assuming a consensual relationship is totally the same thing as getting abducted and raped. We should make a list."

Talking about it in a semi-humorous manner helped Dick get the words out, though he certainly couldn't get into this headspace every time he wanted to or had to talk about something awful. It worked for now, at least. And with Wally being carefully respectful of his space, he was pretty okay with being alone with him, despite the parallels the attorney had drawn yesterday between their relationship and what Luke had done.

Dick's phone buzzed with a text from Bruce: "May I come up?"

"Who's talking to you?" Wally asked.

"Bruce. He wants to come up." Dick sent off a yes to Bruce's question.

Bruce climbed onto the landing shortly thereafter. "You look better, Dick."

"I feel better," Dick replied. "Angry, but better."

"Can you deal with the manor?"

Dick shrugged. "Probably. Why?"

"I just finished updating the manor's security features," Bruce replied, tossing Dick a jacket. "I thought you'd like to see them."

Dick knew exactly what Bruce was doing, and he was grateful for it. "All right," he said, slipping on the jacket. He could use the morale boost.

"I'll get started on my homework in the living room," said Wally. "Sitting room. Whatever."

Dick followed Bruce down the ladder. They stopped at the batcomputer.

"The batcomputer is still the hub of all security alerts," Bruce explained. "Any alerts are also relayed to all our vehicles, computers and phones. I've replaced all the locks and glass on all doors and windows upstairs and updated the perimeter motion sensors to prevent another failure. I'll show you the new glass and locks upstairs and then we'll take a look at the motion sensors outside."

They headed up to the manor and into one of the spare bedrooms with a balcony separated from the room by a glass door. Bruce tapped the glass.

"Missile-proof," he said. "And Wayne Enterprises just finished testing a new kind of lock that melts any foreign object inserted into it that doesn't fit the profile of its approved key."

"What happens if somebody gets locked out of their house?"

"The door will not lock from the outside if a copy of the correct key is not detected," Bruce replied. "The failsafe will not trigger if the door is locked from the inside."

"This seems a little over-complicated, but okay." It was probably the most secure solution. "How is it powered and could the power source be disconnected?"

"A small solar-powered battery is the primary source of electricity," Bruce replied. He placed his fingers on the door handle. "Failing that, heat from the human hand is enough power to operate the system in the short term, but it's not yet reliable enough to be the sole source of energy."

"What happens if the power fails?"

"The outside of the door locks and will not unlock until power is restored. The inside will operate as a normal door and can be used from that side. Power can be restored from either the inside or the outside." Bruce inserted the key and turned the lock, which clicked and allowed the door to open. "This system isn't available on the market yet. The developers aren't satisfied they've covered all eventualities. But this system is effective for our purposes, and there are alternate ways into the house only known by the family if the system fails. The auto lock in the event of power failure works for security purposes, but is impractical for the average home. Fortunately, the manor is anything but average."

"Okay, I'll take that. How about the motion sensors?" He felt pretty confident nobody was getting inside the manor itself without approval, especially when the locking system wasn't even available on the market yet.

Bruce took him outside to the large stone fence that ran around the property, deliberately avoiding the side Dick had been taken to the night of his abduction. They brought their computer gloves.

"The sensors run the length of the fence," Bruce explained, bringing up a holographic screen above his glove. The layout of the sensors appeared on the screen, yellow against the blue of the building layout. "The primary source of power is hydroelectric, from the waterfall over the cliffs behind the property, with a number of redundant power supplies that switch on automatically if the one above it in the priority list is deactivated. There is another solar battery that's always ready to go, a pair of gasoline-powered generators—in case one of them breaks—and a collection of car batteries as an ultimate backup that should last a full night before recharging is required."

"That's pretty thorough," Dick commented.

"An activated sensor will trigger a current in wires set on either side and above the fence." Bruce pointed out a thin strip of wire running close to the stone. "There are other points with electric wire on the grounds. They are all powered by a generator that activates immediately upon a sensor triggering. Alerts are sent to the locations I mentioned earlier, and the manor will go into lockdown if the sensors are not addressed for five minutes, or if all the power backups fail. Sheets of metal will cover all reasonable points of entry and exit, leaving the batcave entrances clear, unless the drawing room is breached by an unapproved guest, at which point the entrance behind the clock will also be covered by metal and plaster to blend into the wall."

"I'd like to take a look at all the plans when we get back inside," Dick said. "So I know where everything is and see if there are any potential weaknesses you missed."

"It's all on the computer," Bruce replied. "There are hard copies downstairs as well."

They headed back to the manor, Dick feeling a little more secure about being here. It hadn't erased the anxiety entirely. Nothing ever did. But at least he knew it was an irrational feeling and had no real basis in fact. That would probably help him deal with it in the future.

"One more thing," Bruce said as they descended into the batcave. "I noticed you're sleeping with a lot of blankets at the moment. Is that a temperature thing or a security thing?"

"Mostly security," Dick replied. "I feel better with all that weight on me."

"I ordered a weighted blanket last night for you to try. Do you think that would help?"

"Maybe. Thanks."

Bruce's phone buzzed and he answered it. "Yes, Alfred? Okay. I'll ask him." Bruce placed a hand over the speaker. "Dick, the district attorney called. She'd like to pay you a visit. Are you up to that?" Dick nodded. "Okay. Alfred, tell her yes. Let us know when she arrives." He hung up.

"I'm surprised she found the time to come all the way out here," Dick said.

"Our district attorney is a dedicated woman." Bruce brought the manor's security plans up on the batcomputer screen. "She has to appear harsh to the public so criminals think twice about having to face her, but she does care about the innocents caught in the middle."

Dick snorted. "I'm innocent now, am I?"

"Yes. You are." The effect of Bruce's words was sort of ruined because he was staring intently at the screen instead of Dick.

Dick couldn't hold onto what little humour he'd managed to conjure up for this conversation. "I think that ship has sailed, Bruce." Innocence, in every sense of the word, was a long-distant memory.

"You are innocent of any wrongdoing in this situation, Dick," Bruce replied.

"None of this would have happened if I hadn't started killing people." If he'd just escaped without bloodshed, maybe Skinner wouldn't have remembered him so vividly. Maybe Skinner wouldn't have been in the United States at all. But even as he thought those things, guilt smacked him in the guts. Someone, somewhere would still have suffered at that man's hands. If Dick hadn't killed his friends, there would be even more pedophiles out in the world. Thinking about it hurt his brain.

"Men like Skinner don't just stop hurting people," Bruce said firmly. "He hurt children before you encountered him overseas, and he continued hurting them after you were gone. However you may feel about killing his associates, your involvement in this case has likely saved a lot of children from suffering." Bruce closed the blueprint file, as it had become obvious neither of them were interested in it anymore. "You know how I feel about killing, but it would be unkind of me to condemn your decision to kill those men when you were clearly not in a fit state to be making decisions at all. Iman should not have allowed you to return with her. You needed therapy, not an outlet. You are not to blame for other people's actions, particularly Skinner's. He chose to base an operation in Gotham. He chose to hurt children. He chose to abduct you. Those decisions were his downfall."

"He's not convicted yet," Dick murmured. "Anything could happen between now and the jury's verdict."

"The defence attorney got to you yesterday," Bruce noted.

"Of course he did," Dick muttered.

Alfred stepped from the stairs into the cave. "The district attorney has arrived, sirs. She is waiting in the sitting room with Master Wally."

"That was quick," Dick commented.

"I believe she was already on her way when she called," said Alfred. Dick and Bruce followed him upstairs. They promptly reached the sitting room, where Van Dorn was sitting on the couch while Wally neatly stacked his schoolbooks into a pile on the coffee table.

"Thank you for coming all the way out here," Bruce said, shaking her hand.

"It was no trouble," said Van Dorn. "I wanted to discuss Richard's testimony yesterday." Dick barely avoided flinching at the use of his legal name. "Given the circumstances, it seemed more prudent for me to come here than than to force Richard to brave the city."

"Thanks." Dick sat down on the couch on the other side of the coffee table. Wally and Bruce joined him, while Alfred, who had disappeared at some point, placed a tea tray on the table and poured out drinks for everyone.

"How do you feel about your testimony?" Van Dorn asked. "Before the defence had their turn."

"I'm okay with it," Dick replied. "I probably could've explained some things better, but I don't think it went too badly."

"Good." Van Dorn picked up her teacup but didn't drink. "You answered my questions calmly and methodically without seeming over-rehearsed. That will help the case."

"I probably undid all of that in the cross-examination," Dick said.

"The defence was out of line," Van Dorn replied. "You shouldn't have talked back at him, but you also shouldn't have been put in that position in the first place. I will make that clear in my closing arguments."

"I probably shouldn't have brought Wally."

"Probably, but the defence could have made his point even without him there. Your relationship is hardly a secret."

Dick shrugged. "Vicki Vale ambushed us ages ago, and being in the closet is exhausting."

Van Dorn nearly cracked a smile, but didn't quite get there. "I can imagine. I will be sure to point out the defence's underhanded, victim-blaming tactics in my closing arguments as well. A reasonable jury should understand he behaved inappropriately. If not, we have more than enough facts to support your testimony."

"Dick," Wally said, "the case is solid."

"Are you concerned?" Van Dorn asked.

Dick shrugged. "I guess I just don't have as much faith in the case as everyone else does. Especially after everything the defence got away with yesterday."

"I will make sure the anti-corruption department of the police is on standby," Van Dorn said. "The only way Mr Smith and his associates will not be found guilty is if somebody is on the take, and I will find out who that person is and deal with them as harshly as the law will allow. I would advise arranging an appointment with your therapist in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it," Bruce replied.

Van Dorn left shortly thereafter, with both Bruce and Alfred walking her to her car. Dick felt a touch better about the case. If somebody as experienced as Van Dorn thought the chances of conviction were high, that had to mean something, right? And she had contingencies in place in case it didn't happen.

Wally opened a textbook with a groan.

"You love chemistry," Dick commented.

"Chemistry's like... cake." Wally uncapped a highlighter and drew it across a line of text. "I love cake, but even cake gets old if that's the only thing you can eat. For hours. And hours. And you're not even hungry anymore because you're already full of cake, but the cake keeps coming and you have to eat it otherwise you'll fail the cake-eating class and break your GPA." He turned the page. "Speaking of cake..."

"Yes?"

"Your birthday's in a couple weeks." Wally put the lid on the highlighter and set the book aside already.

"Nice segue."

"I know." Wally flashed him a slightly tired grin. "The team wanted to throw a party, but they didn't know if you wanted one or not. So they asked me."

"I don't know if I want one either," Dick replied. Parties were exhausting.

"We could do a movie marathon at Mount Justice instead," Wally suggested. "Just friends, snacks and a stack of DVDs. And you could leave whenever you wanted."

"That sounds okay."

"Bruce is planning something small as well, I think. We could invite Barbara and maybe Artemis here for that, if you want. No pressure."

"Okay." He hadn't seen Barbara in a while, partially because he hadn't felt up to it. It'd be nice to see her again. The court case would be over by then, for better or for worse, and maybe he'd finally be able to get on with his life.

"I'll talk to everyone," Wally said. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

Dick hesitated for a moment before planting a kiss on Wally's cheek. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

"And don't I know it," Wally said, just to be a smartass. Dick kissed his other cheek. Doing that felt good. Touching at all could be complicated after everything that had happened, but being able to do that felt like a step forward.

Dick didn't go to the rest of the trial until it came to the day for the attorneys to present their closing arguments and let the jury do their thing. Wally and Jason weren't able to get more time off school, so only Bruce and Alfred came with him. Despite the aggressive optimism of everyone around him, Dick couldn't help but feel a sense of dread.

"Dick, the case is strong," Bruce said to him as they took their seats in the audience. Bruce had outright refused to even entertain the idea that the jury could come back a not guilty verdict. It was a kind of obstinate optimism that really didn't suit him. Dick was all too aware that Bruce was putting on an act for his benefit. Bruce was always coming up with worst-case scenarios and contingency plans. He had countless files about his teammates on the Justice League dedicated to containing them should they turn rogue. There was no way in hell he hadn't come up with ideas of what to do if Skinner and his people walked.

"If you weren't worried, you wouldn't be saying that every few minutes just to make me feel better."

"Master Bruce is just trying to help," said Alfred. "However clumsy his attempts may be."

Dick cracked a small smile at that. Watching Alfred tell Bruce off in his uniquely underhanded manner was always entertaining, no matter how shitty Dick felt.

A message came through from Wally: "Text me as soon as you know."

Dick sent back an affirmative message. He still wished Wally was here with him, but knowing the big dork was thinking about him would do for now.

The closing arguments were rather predictable. Van Dorn pointed out the use of intimidation, law-bending and outright victim-blaming the defence had used in a vain attempt to gain the upper hand in the case. The defence called the witnesses unreliable, due to youth, a desire to cover up their own misdeeds or potentially having been bribed by the witnesses in the former group, and the evidence inconclusive as to whether any rapes actually occurred.

Dick could see the truth in everyone's words now, as he watched the defence flounder to discredit everyone and everything with increasingly improbable stories that could never even be called fiction because fiction actually had to make sense most of the time.

The attorneys finished their spiels and the jury went away to come up with a verdict.

"Is it just me, or did the defence attorney look like he was reaching even further than usual?" Dick said quietly as he went out to grab coffee with Bruce and Alfred.

"He's panicking," Bruce replied. They reached the line for the coffee machine. "He knows his case is falling apart."

"Good. I hope he has a heart attack."

"Shh."

The coffee was disgusting, but Dick and Bruce drank it anyway while Alfred, who had been listening to other people complain about it, decided not to have any after all.

"I raised the two of you better than this," he sniffed, watching them grit their teeth and bear it. Dick's first thought was that it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had in his mouth, but he kept his mouth firmly shut and pushed that thought right to the back of his mind.

Everyone was called to return to the courtroom a mere ten minutes later as the jury had already reached a verdict, which could either be very good or very bad. They took their seats again. Dick's heart practically vibrated in his chest and he already regretted drinking that coffee.

"Coffee and stress." He laughed quietly, but it was either that or scream. "Great mix."

"Remind me to keep you away from the coffee machine," Bruce said under his breath.

"Yeah, good luck."

Alfred just sighed at them. No words were needed.

The jury filed in, taking their seats. Dick hadn't paid much attention to the jury the other time he'd been here. There weren't a lot of women up there, probably for some sexist reason like their supposed maternal instincts would render them incapable of seeing the case objectively with children involved. It was probably the defence's fault. Van Dorn wouldn't put up with that bullshit unless she had no choice in the matter.

The man chosen to read the verdict stood as the judge indicated for him to do so. He held a piece of paper in his hands. Bruce shifted a little beside Dick, further forward in his seat, back tense, partially shielding Dick from the defence attorney's line of sight. Alfred patted Dick's hand. They had discussed physical contact earlier that morning, with Dick agreeing to hand, arm and shoulder touches, but no gripping unless he instigated it.

The juror cleared his throat and straightened the paper. "The jury finds the defendants..."

Dick froze completely. Heart, breaths, eyes. Everything.

"Not guilty."

"What," Bruce growled under his breath.

The courtroom was dead silent, as if dozen of people collectively held their breath. Seconds ticked by. Then:

"Very well," said the judge.

Van Dorn leapt to her feet. "The prosecution requests the jury be polled."

The judge asked each juror in turn whether they agreed to the verdict. The first few jurors said yes, their eyes set carefully above the audience, which weirded Dick out a little. One of the few women on the jury stuttered for a few seconds before also saying she agreed. Another juror sat with his mouth open for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying the same. Dick noticed Van Dorn watching the jury closely, her frown deepening with each 'yes' spoken. Dick obviously wasn't the only one concerned by the jury's behaviour.

Each juror eventually said they agreed with the verdict and the judge ended the trial. Van Dorn snapped her files shut as if she wished she could toss them across the room. Bruce, Dick and Alfred didn't move until the defence was leaving.

The defence attorney leaned towards their bench. "No hard feelings, hey, kiddo? Just doing my job."

"Piss off," Dick snapped. Neither Bruce nor Alfred did anything to express their displeasure, and the attorney simply smirked and made his way out of the courtroom.

Van Dorn approached them next. "Something isn't right," she said quietly. "Go home. I'll start investigating immediately." She swept out of the room, her high heels clicking rapidly on the floor.

"Let's get out of here," Bruce said, helping Dick up. Dick didn't particularly feel like moving. He let Bruce and Alfred steer him out of the room, out the back door and to the car.

He barely noticed anything on that journey home. Something ugly was building in his head. Something he had fought to push away ever since he'd agreed to put the Red Hood away for good.

He had tried the legal route. Van Dorn was good at her job, but there was a more reliable way to get bad people off the streets. People who did nothing but harm, who would happily go back to old habits if given half a chance. They had to be stopped, and the law had failed.

Dick texted Wally the jury's verdict when he got home, requesting Wally stay home for tonight. Bruce offered to stay home from patrol, but Dick refused, suggesting he take Jason out with him since the kid could afford to blow off some steam. Alfred offered to spend time in the cave with Dick, but Dick asked for some space. He needed it, but not solely for the reasons Alfred thought he did.

Dick knew where the cameras were in the cave, and he knew that a very brief disruption in their operation wouldn't be enough to freak anyone out. Bruce had a vault full of criminal memorabilia he didn't want to display, unlike the giant penny and the dinosaur which were too cool to keep in a box somewhere. Bruce didn't like throwing things out, so he held onto whatever he could, placing the more dangerous things in his vault.

Dangerous things like weapons and the occasional criminal's costume.

It wasn't too hard to loop old footage of the vault. Nobody was supposed to be down here, so Dick didn't have to worry too much about what footage he used provided he avoided big arrest dates.

Bruce occasionally changed the password, but it tended to stay the same for months if not years. Dick had heard him use the most recent one a few weeks ago. It was trapeze. He'd probably changed it after Dick had died and never gotten around to using something else. It wasn't hard to comb through old footage and find audio of Bruce using the word, since his voiceprint was the only thing that could open the door.

Dick played the audio and the great metal door of the vault slid open with barely a sound. He slipped inside. The crates within were usually ordered by the first arrest date of each villain who had a box here. Dick went straight to April 2011, to the most recently-added box: the Red Hood.

His guns and costume were there. There were no bullets, for obvious reasons, but Dick could always pinch some from a gun store and leave some money on the counter. He'd have to pick one with weak security, but that wouldn't be too difficult. He already knew where some were after having to supply himself as the Red Hood months ago.

He quickly grabbed his gear and shoved it into a duffel bag. He had to get out of here quickly, before Alfred decided to check on him or Wally got worried and showed up or Bruce and Jason decided to come home early. Anything was possible.

Dick downloaded the addresses of Skinner and his associates and quickly jumped on his bike. If Bruce didn't know something was up, he soon would. Dick planned to ditch the bike in a quiet part of the city and proceed on foot. He had his Nightwing equipment, so that wouldn't be an issue.

Dick felt that familiar sensation of guilt sitting heavy in his gut as he sped out of the batcave. He knew Bruce would never forgive him for this, that Jason would be upset, Alfred heartbroken, Wally... shit. He didn't know how Wally would react, honestly. Probably a mix of all three.

But he had to do this. He couldn't rely on the legal system to fix this fuck-up.

If the courts wouldn't get these people off the street, then it fell to Dick to do it. The departed and damaged souls of dozens of children demanded justice—Dick needed justice—and dozens of living children needed his protection.

Forcing the guilt away, Dick narrowed his focus to the job. He would deal with the consequences when they came.