A/n: Short chapter just to get back into the swing of things. We're drawing towards the end here. Thank you so much to all of you still reading and following. I hope you are still enjoying this story.

We have probably another 4-5 chapters left, at most, unless I get struck by some totally random inspiration.

From last time: Dick had his back to Alfred as he tugged off the uniform shirt he had been wearing. Alfred had turned just in time to see the boy's back. Gently, with a shaking hand, he brought his fingertips to the scars criss-crossing the skin. He was outraged to see to still healing welts, the skin closed, but red and puckered, obviously painful. Alfred floundered for words.

"Child, what-"

"What the hell happened?" came an angry voice from the doorway.

Dick's reaction was instantaneous. He whipped around to face his former mentor.

"Bruce! I-I… it's not… it's ok… I just… he…" Bruce had crossed the room in two large steps, taking the boy's shoulder in one large hand and gently turning him so that he could once more see his back. Dick went silent as an ominous tension flooded the room.

"What happened?" Bruce bit out, taking in the marks on his ward's skin. Layered scars criss crossed the dusky shoulder blades.

"I…" Dick had to take a moment to swallow, his mouth going dry. "I don't listen very well," he said quietly.

"Oh, kid…" Bruce turned to Alfred, whose eyes were locked onto the damaged flesh.

Dick grew uncomfortable, and shifted slightly, starting to pull on the shirt he still clutched in white knuckled hands, but Bruce stopped him with a gentle squeeze of the shoulder.

"Not yet. Alfred, can you…?"

"Of course, sir." The butler moved to one of the cabinets on the far wall, retrieving some medicinal cream and bandages to treat the healing welts.

"Take a seat, Dick," Bruce said. Dick gingerly lowered himself back onto the bed, turning so his back was once more towards the two other men. Bruce and Alfred noticed with dismay that the boy was trembling.

"This may be a bit cold, my boy," Alfred warned, smearing some of the cream onto his hands and slowly massaging it onto the damaged skin. Dick flinched slightly, before tensing and going still under his ministrations.

Bruce moved to the other side of the bed, grabbing a chair and pulling it up so he could sit face to face with Dick. Dick's eyes stayed lowered, but his eyes flicked up to follow Bruce's movements every few seconds.

"He had no right, Dick. No right to do what he did to you." Bruce said, fixing his own eyes on Dick's even though his gaze was not met. Dick nodded slowly. The silence stretched on for several minutes as Alfred continued treating his back. "What's wrong, Dick?" Bruce finally asked when the boy still wouldn't meet his eye.

Dick swallowed heavily, still clutching the shirt Alfred had given him, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, a habit Bruce hadn't seen since the boy was about 11. He gently reached out to coax the lip from it's abuse, but Dick flinched back slightly, halting his movement. "Dick…?"

"Just… just waiting for the explosion," Dick said quietly. He felt Alfred hesitate slightly behind him before more cream was applied, the soft circular motions almost hypnotic.

"What explosion?" Bruce asked calmly. The calm was almost worse than the expected anger.

"I-" his throat tightened, and his eyes itched as tears pricked at them. "I tried to shoot someone, Bruce… I tried to kill someone… I tried to shoot Officer Gordon." His trembling increased, and Alfred ceased moving altogether, resting a hand on his shoulder even as Bruce let out a long sigh. Dick closed his eyes, emotion overwhelming him as the consequences of his actions came back with full force. It was as Slade had said: even if Bruce had been looking for him, there was no way he'd want anything to do with him now. Not after what he'd done.

"Dick, look at me." Dick shook his head, a sob catching in his throat. He didn't want to see the anger, the disappointment… "Dick…"

Large hands gently touched the sides of his face, catching his chin and tilting his head up, as the hand on his shoulder squeezed reassuringly. "Look at me, please." Bruce sounded so calm, so welcoming, like home. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes. "Yes, you tried to shoot someone... no, Dick, look at me. Listen. Tried. You tried. You were put into an impossible situation, and you did what you had to do, but Dick, you didn't do it. This is probably the only time you'll hear me say this, kid, but you failed, and I am so happy you did."

"But I-I would have, if you hadn't… if the League hadn't of… then-"

"But that's not what happened. And even if it was, do you think that I wouldn't have done the same for you? That I would have done anything to save someone I cared about so much?"

Dick lowered his eyes to the floor, his cheeks heating with color. Bruce sighed again.

"Oh, kid… I really screwed up, huh?" That caught Dick off guard. Bruce tapped his chin gently, asking him to raise his eyes again. He did, slowly, looking questioningly at Bruce. "Dick, I would do anything for you." Dick opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off. "No, Dick, I would. I know he probably told you otherwise, that he convinced you that wasn't true, but it is. Whatever he told you, whatever he said, I want you to forget about it, right now. Because it was lies, Dick. I was a wreck. I was willing to do anything to get you back. There's nothing I wouldn't do if it meant keeping you safe."

Silence followed the declaration, as Dick's eyes searched his, a frown pulling at his mouth as his eyes welled with tears once again.

"But…" the boy finally said. "Why? I'm not even… I'm just…" he floundered for words, holding back his emotion as best as his exhausted body would allow.

"You're mine," Bruce said. "And no one and nothing is going to change that, ok?" Dick nodded as the tears finally won out. In the same moment, Bruce rose, leaning forward to embrace him, and Dick fell forward into his arms. As Bruce held him, he felt a familiar touch on his hair; Alfred carded his fingers through the boy's locks, as he had done when he was a child and had woken from a nightmare on the night's Bruce wasn't available. Between the exhaustion and the feeling of safety that settled over him with the affections of his family, Dick fell once more into darkness. Whispers of, "Taci acum , băiete," kept the nightmares at bay.

Raven poured over the spell books Zatanna had lent her again and again, searching for a clue, a hint as to what had gone wrong. She had done the spell correctly, she was sure. She had felt the dark energy rush through her body, had felt the power of the spell as she directed it toward Slade… so what had gone wrong?

She searched book after book, finding no answer. As the hours flew by, she grew frustrated and impatient. She rose from her seat, leaving her research to await her return after a cup of tea and some meditation.

As she made her way to the kitchens, she crossed paths with Wonder Woman.

"Hello," the Amazonian greeted her. "How is the research going?"

"Not good," Raven said. "I can't seem to find what went wrong. I know I did the spell correctly, but… something clearly wasn't right. I don't know what it could have been…"

"You'll find it," Wonder Woman assured her. "I'm sure you will. There must just be something you aren't seeing right now." With a friendly touch on the shoulder, Wonder Woman continued on.

Raven retrieved her cup of tea, returning to the room she had been holed up in while trying to find an answer.

"There must be something I'm not…" she mumbled, opening yet another book.

It hit her suddenly. How had she not seen it? "There's something I'm not seeing!" That must be it…

"Azarath metrion zynthos," she muttered, calling a book to her and letting it hover before her, opening the book to the page she was looking for. And there it was… the answer.

"Quod cum facit carmina afficiunt subiectum alterationis erunt in conspectu sit...when performing a spell that will affect the mind, the subject of the alteration must be in sight of the victim."

Slade had to see Robin while she performed the spell.