A/N: Recollections of the sexual assault of minors. And an actual incident of self-harm.

Chapter 36: Footage

"Do you understand everything I've explained to you?" the judge asked Dick, peering at him over the glasses perched on her nose.

"I understand," Dick replied.

"By signing these documents, you consent to your adoption." The judge passed him the pen and he signed where directed. "They should be processed sometime next week." She flicked through the stack of papers. "Everything seems to be in order." She slid the papers into her briefcase.

"Thank you for coming out here," Bruce said on Dick's behalf.

"It was my pleasure, Mr Wayne." The judge shook hands with Bruce and Dick. Alfred saw her to the door.

Bruce pulled Dick in for a hug, ruffling his hair.

"You know I'm still calling you Bruce, right?" Dick said against his shirt.

"I'll survive. Somehow."

Dick patted Bruce's face. "Be strong."

"I'll try."

"I do hate to break up this touching exchange, sirs."

Bruce dumped Dick onto the couch, ignoring the string of insults thrown at him as a result. "Yes, Alfred?"

"The police commissioner and district attorney are on the phone," Alfred replied without batting an eye at the exchange. "They wish to discuss the upcoming trial in person and have offered to visit the manor."

"That would be best," said Bruce. "Thank you, Alfred."

Wally would be at school for a few more hours. Dick took in a slow breath. He could do this without him. He had to.

Bruce sat next to him. "You're going to be okay."

Dick nodded. He needed a few minutes to sort his head out. Bruce stayed beside him, a silent, calming presence. Alfred brought tea; he'd let the chamomile infuse just a touch longer than usual to hopefully concentrate the effects. Dick burnt his tongue because his hands weren't steady enough. Alfred brought him some cold water.

Dick was not remotely prepared when Commissioner Gordon and DA Van Dorn arrived, but at least the chamomile had brought his anxiety down a bit. Alfred showed the two of them into the sitting room. Bruce greeted them both with a handshake.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," said Van Dorn, settling into the couch opposite Dick's.

"I didn't want to drag this out," Dick replied.

"We hadn't planned to talk to you today," Van Dorn said. "We had arranged to speak with the other witnesses first, but several have pulled out."

"And a few have gone missing," Gordon added. "We're trying to track them down."

That was the first Dick had heard of this. He resisted the temptation to jab Bruce hard in the ribs for not saying anything sooner.

"We can't rely on them being found in time for the trial," said Van Dorn. "If all else fails, the judge will accept the written testimonies collected by the police as evidence, but in-person testimonies are still preferable."

"I take it that's why you're here," Dick said. The thought of recounting everything again in front of a new room full of people made him want to vomit.

"Yes."

"You're allowed to say no," Bruce told him.

"I know. I'm saying yes."

"I suspected you would," said Van Dorn. "We'll need to arrange a time to go over your old testimony so we can avoid inconsistencies."

"I'll get Alfred to look at the calendar," Bruce said. "He has a better head for dates than I do."

"The GCPD will continue searching for the other witnesses in the meantime," Gordon added.

"One more thing," said Van Dorn. "Now, both the prosecution and the defence have an idea of what to expect in the new trial, but be aware the defence has chosen not to share evidence. The burden of proof is on the prosecution, so it's their right, but..."

"The defence attorney recently went overseas," said Gordon.

"Strange," Bruce replied. "He has an upcoming case."

"Those were my thoughts," said Van Dorn. "The Commissioner had his people look into it. The attorney flew to a number of nations in the Middle East."

"The Middle East?" Bruce repeated. He and Dick shared a look, with a fairly good idea what the defence attorney had been doing over there.

"There... might be a connection," Dick admitted. It had been a while since he'd had to work with his amnesia story, but he couldn't risk witholding information that could hurt the case.

Van Dorn raised an eyebrow. "Is this something you should have told me earlier?"

"Probably," Dick replied. "I didn't think it was relevant, since it was outside U.S. jurisdiction and it seemed unlikely the defence would want to bring up something potentially incriminating. And, if I tried, they'd probably sue me for defamation."

"I think I know what this is about," said Gordon. "Barbara knew Skinner was using a false identity before all this happened."

"Yeah, she got that from me," Dick replied. "Well, from Wally. Who got it from me. Seeing Skinner at school pulled some memories out of the amnesia."

"What memories?" Van Dorn urged, leaning forward, hands on her knees.

All the words fled from Dick's brain. Bruce squeezed his shoulder and took over.

"Skinner has a compound in a remote area of the Middle East," he said. "He and his people abducted a number of children, apparently one at a time, who they then sexually abused and later murdered. Dick survived, but has no recollection of his escape."

"So you knew Skinner prior to his appearance at Gotham Academy," said Van Dorn. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I would have preferred to have this information sooner, even if we can't use it. No matter. If the defence attempts to make a story out of this, we have time to come up with a counter-argument."

"I was thirteen at the time," Dick replied. "That might help."

"That's still underage across the vast majority of the world," said Van Dorn. "So it very well might."

"Do you know what the attorney was doing overseas?" asked Commissioner Gordon.

"There were security cameras in the compound," Dick replied. "One was in my room." And it looked like the defence attorney had gone back to grab the footage, assuming he'd found a backup that Bruce hadn't destroyed. Dick had really hoped the survivors hadn't taken copies with them. He didn't want them looking at him in any way ever again. The fact they didn't even need him present to violate him again was sickening.

"If he brought the tapes into the United States, we might be able to bust them for possessing child pornography."

"We'll have to be careful about it," Van Dorn replied. "They may try to argue it was evidence for the defence."

"My people can be creative when they need to be."

"I suppose that's the next best thing to actually charging them for what they did overseas," Bruce said.

"I'll get people on it right away," said Gordon. "Janet, was there anything else you needed?"

"Not right now." Van Dorn stood up, smoothing out her pencil skirt. "Call my office to arrange a time to go over Dick's testimony."

Gordon and Van Dorn said their farewells and Alfred showed them out.

Dick closed his eyes. "Shit."

"We won't let them use this," Bruce assured him. "It would be foolish of them to try."

"Speaking of foolish..." Dick gathered what composure he could find to glare up at Bruce. "When were you going to tell me some of the other kids had gone missing?"

"As late as possible," Bruce admitted. "It hasn't been long since you almost killed Brian White."

"Maybe I should've gone through with it," Dick said quietly.

"Dick—"

He wasn't in the mood for Bruce's excuses. "I trusted you to protect them."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"That's not good enough." That was directed at himself just as much as it was to Bruce. He'd failed to protect the other survivors just as surely as he'd failed the ones he couldn't save before the escape. Yet, this time, he'd had a choice. He could have taken out as many of Skinner's people as possible and watched over the children directly, but he'd let Wally talk him out of it.

Even when he had control over a situation, he still managed to fuck it up.

He retreated to his bedroom. He couldn't look at Bruce's face without wanting to punch him.

Dick turned on his music player and shoved in his earbuds, burying his face in the pillow. How many times could he fuck things up before the universe would take pity on him and let him have some kind of victory? Never, probably.

Letting the legal system take the reins had been a bad idea. Dick could have protected the children if he hadn't let Wally sway him. He'd finally found a way to take control of the situation and chose to give it up, because Wally asked him to.

But maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could find the children who had gone missing, or least save the others from the same fate. There was no guarantee this new trial would succeed anyway.

Dick was stronger now. He could do it. He could save them.

But Bruce had to be on high alert by now. The odds of Dick getting anywhere near the cave and any weapons were incredibly slim. And as soon as Bruce found out what he was doing, he would no longer be welcome at the manor. He'd lose everything he'd rebuilt over the past year. Maybe it would be worth it in the end, if he could just save someone.

Anyone.

A finger prodded his shoulder. Dick paused his music and shifted his head just far enough to see the culprit.

Wally.

"Bruce told me what happened," he said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dick didn't feel like talking.

"Jason eavesdropped and I think he punched a wall," Wally continued when it became apparently Dick wasn't about to contribute to the conversation. "You should've been told when it happened."

Dick found his voice. "Did you know about this?"

"No," Wally replied, and Dick believed him. "Bruce was trying to protect you, but he went about it the wrong way. He also said he explained that pretty badly."

"No shit." Dick wanted to turn his music back on. The world was too harsh for him right now.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Hm?" That was not the way Dick had expected this conversation to go. Wally hadn't even mentioned the killing thing yet, even though he had to know what was going through Dick's mind.

"Getting out of Gotham might help you deal with this," Wally elaborated. "We could hang out at my place or Mount Justice."

Dick shook his head, curling around his music player. He didn't want to go anywhere.

"Are you sure? I know the manor's hard on you sometimes."

"Effort," Dick muttered, flicking through his music library.

"Want company?"

Dick shrugged.

Wally kicked off his shoes and lay down opposite him. "What are you going to do?"

And there it was. Dick shrugged again. It had been easier to say it to Bruce, since he'd been angry at him at the time, but Wally hadn't done anything wrong. This would hurt him. Dick didn't want to hurt him.

"Bruce told me what you said." There was no accusation. Just concern.

"I could've stopped it," Dick said quietly.

"Maybe. You can't say for sure."

"At least I would've tried."

"It's not your responsibility, Dick."

"It could've been, if I hadn't let you talk me out of it."

"You've done enough already, babe." Wally squeezed Dick's wrists. "You don't have to destroy yourself for them."

"I'm sure that's a huge comfort for the kids who've been dragged back into the hell they just escaped."

"Bruce will find them," Wally assured him. "You know he won't stop until he does."

"Yeah, because he's done such a great job so far." Dick pressed his earbuds in deeper and played the next song his finger touched, not much caring what it was. He just needed the noise. Wally shut up and held him.

Bruce found one of the children alive that night, but Dick couldn't bring himself to feel good about it. The others were still missing, and the few who weren't were no longer willing to testify. Dick couldn't blame them.

Bruce kept searching. At Wally's insistence, Dick tried to put it out of his mind as much as possible.

After more than a week of this, Dick resorted to begging Bruce and Alfred for homeschooling so he could distract himself during the times Wally wasn't around. He spread his books out on the coffee table of the manor's living room, pretending not to notice how often Alfred, and sometimes Bruce, would check up on him.

"Call for you, sir," Alfred said on one of these days later in January, when Dick was working on some math problems Bruce had set. "It's the hospital."

That could mean only one thing. Dick tried to smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace, and took the receiver from Alfred. "Hello?"

"Mr Grayson?" The voice belonged to a woman he'd spoken to before. She'd handled all his phone calls about his STI tests so far.

"Speaking."

"I have good news," the woman said. "Your final test came back negative. You're officially STI-free."

"Oh." That took a moment to sink in. "That's good. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day, Mr Grayson." She hung up. Dick listened to the tone for a few solid seconds before he noticed Alfred waiting to take the phone back.

"Master Dick? Are you all right?"

Dick's face broke into a tired smile. Tired, but real. "I'm fine, Alfred. It was good news." He finally handed the receiver back.

"I'm glad to hear it, sir."

That was one part of last year Dick could finally put behind him. Now if they could find those missing children and get a guilty verdict in the damn trial, he'd be able to start healing in earnest. It was about time.

Alfred gave him some space to call Wally, who would be on his lunch break by now.

"Hey, Walls," Dick said. "Got a sec?"

"Sure, babe." Wally must've moved somewhere else because the background chatter was suddenly cut in half. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything's good. The hospital called about my final STI test. It came back negative."

"That's great news," Wally said.

"Yeah, it's—" And there were the tears. Damn it.

"Dick?"

"I'm fine," Dick said thickly, wiping his cheeks. "It's just, you know... it's been hanging over me for months. I'm glad it's over."

"I'll give you a big hug when I get home," Wally said.

"Thanks. I could use one. Go have lunch. I'll see you later."

"You sure? I feel pretty weird about hanging up when you're crying."

Dick rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "It's stopping. I promise. Go feed your brain. There'll be plenty of crying you can witness later, I'm sure."

Wally laughed briefly before stopping itself. "Okay. I'll see you right after school. Love you."

"Love you." Dick hung up his phone. He sent a text to Bruce telling him the news, and then tried to focus on Math again. Focusing was difficult as usual, but at least his distraction was for happier reasons today.

"The attorney hasn't declared his footage of you as evidence," Bruce told Dick one night in the cave, pulling off his gloves.

"But you're certain he has it?" Dick asked, shutting down the cowl cam on the batcomputer.

"I searched his home," Bruce replied. "He has it. The Commissioner is working on getting an official search authorised so the GCPD can arrest him for it."

"And you're sure that'll work?"

"He's had it for weeks now." Bruce unclicked his utility belt. "If he intended to use it as evidence, he would have submitted it already, even if he has no intention of sharing it with the prosecution." Alfred appeared at his elbow to take the pieces of his costume for cleaning and maintenance. "Then we can use it ourselves in the event the attorney who will have to replace him tries to use your two-year absence to discredit you."

"Great," Dick muttered. Just what he wanted everyone to see.

"You can say no."

"It's fine." Dick clicked through the files he'd finished updating, just to have something to do that didn't involve looking at Bruce. "It's just... you know. Humiliating."

"I'm sorry you had to relive that." Bruce squeezed his shoulder and left to finish changing. Dick headed up to bed, where Wally had passed out several hours ago. School was swamping him in tests in the mad dash towards graduation. Dick had tried to make him stay home, but he wasn't having it. Dick couldn't exactly blame him, considering his track record of making poor decisions without Wally around to talk him out of them.

Wally stirred when Dick climbed into bed. "Mm? Babe?"

"Yeah, it's me. Go back to sleep."

Wally flopped his arm across Dick's chest. "'Sup?"

"You're in no shape for a conversation, Walls." Dick patted his hand. "Sleep."

"'M awake."

"Barely."

Wally rolled his face onto Dick's shoulder. "Need to talk?"

Yes, but... "It can wait."

"C'mon, talk to me." Wally yawned into his hand. "I'm too curious for sleep now."

Dick rolled his eyes, adjusting his pillow so he could sit up against it. "Don't blame me when you fall asleep in class tomorrow."

Wally draped himself over Dick's back. "Psh. I'll be fine. You waited up for Bruce, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Any news?"

"Nothing about the kids," Dick replied.

"But...?"

"The defence attorney never declared the video of me as evidence," Dick said.

"But he definitely has it?"

"Yeah, Bruce searched his house." Dick's stomach didn't like the thought of that. "Commissioner Gordon's going to find a way to get an official search so they can arrest him for possessing child pornography."

Wally squeezed him. "At least you'll get some justice for what they did to you back then."

"Weird to think it was close to three years ago now. The timeline's still a bit wonky, since I'm not completely sure when Ra's brought me back." It was probably for the best. Dick had enough shitty anniversaries already.

Wally gently rested the back of his hand on Dick's forehead. "You look sick. I'll get you some water. Is tap okay?"

"Bruce replaced the pipes a few years ago. It's fine." If he could even stomach water right now.

Wally grabbed Dick's empty glass off the nightstand and filled it up in the bathroom, pressing it into Dick's hands. "Don't make yourself sick."

Dick snorted. "Too late." He took a small sip, which helped a little. Now he'd just have to find a balance between how much would help him and how much would make him want to vomit instead.

Wally rubbed Dick's back. Dick pressed the cool glass against his forehead, closing his eyes.

"Bruce thinks the prosecution might use the footage in the trial," he murmured.

"You don't sound happy about it."

"I'm not, but if it helps, I'm not going to say no." He took another sip. "Bruce was concerned the defence might use my two-year absence to discredit me. The video would destroy that argument." The thought of anyone else seeing the damn video made him want to hurl right then and there. Wally grabbed the bucket that lived in the bathroom these days and set it on the floor beside the bed.

"Go to sleep," Dick muttered, irritated by the attention Wally was heaping on him when he should've been sleeping because it was a school night. "I'm fine."

"Bullshit."

Dick set the glass on the table; his last sip sat unpleasantly in his throat. He lay down, hoping the feeling would go away. He didn't especially feel like throwing up tonight.

"You don't have to do this," Wally whispered, rubbing Dick's stomach.

"So I've heard. Go to sleep."

Wally did, eventually. Dick retreated to the bathroom to throw up as quietly as he could. For once, his prayers were answered and Wally slept through it. He was much better-rested than Dick by the time morning came.

Dick took a brief break from his self-imposed news blackout to watch a report on the search of the defence attorney's home. Bruce was probably on his way home by now, but if he'd hoped to be the one to tell Dick, Vicki Vale had beaten him to the punch. Naturally.

"The police have confirmed their search turned up incriminating evidence, but they have yet to release a statement regarding what exactly they found." Vicki's dyed hair waved in the air. "Mr Nelson has been arrested and is on the way to the GCPD as I speak. How this will affect the upcoming child trafficking retrial remains to be seen, but this can only mean good things for Richard Grayson and the prosecution."

"Of course she had to shove my name in it," Dick muttered from his spot on the floor. Wally was perched on the edge of the couch, digging his fingers into Dick's tight shoulders.

Wally rubbed a particularly stubborn knot. "At least she doesn't sound like she's against you."

"Yeah, Vicki's a pain in the ass but she's not usually malicious when things get serious." Dick gasped as the knot released. "Christ. I think my arm's gone numb."

Wally snorted. "Want me to test it? I've been meaning to practice my right hook."

"Fuck off."

"So aggressive." Wally pushed Dick forward so he could reach further down the boy's back. "You're not so scary when I'm turning you into a noodle."

"If you didn't think I was scary, you wouldn't need to say that."

"Sure, babe. Sure."

Alfred cleared his throat from the doorway. "Sirs, Master Bruce has just been called away to another emergency, but he wanted to tell you... well, you clearly know already."

"It's the thought that counts," Dick replied. "Thanks, Alf."

Bruce was stuck out in the field putting out various fires all night, so Dick and Wally both went to bed before he had a chance to say anything personally.

Bruce let Dick sleep in until he woke up of his own accord in the afternoon. They had lunch together while Alfred was out running errands.

Bruce consumed copious amounts of coffee between sandwiches. "The Commissioner called this morning."

"Oh?" Dick was picking at his salad more than anything. He had no appetite today.

"He'd like your permission to pass on the footage to his trusted investigators and the District Attorney. She's promised to keep the rest of her staff away from it."

"I guess." Dick chased a tomato around his plate. Puking seemed like a much better idea than eating right about now.

"You don't have to agree," Bruce told him. "They'll understand."

"It's fine," Dick said for the thousandth time this year, and it was barely February. It wasn't fine. Everyone knew that. But what Bruce had said about the evidence being useful for deflecting any argument involving Dick's two-year absence was absolutely true. Dick was honestly surprised the previous attorney, who was well and truly off the case now, hadn't thought to bring it up.

"Are you sure?"

Dick wanted to throw Bruce's coffee cup across the room, but he settled for slamming down his fork. "Yes, goddammit!" He took a steadying breath and brought his voice back down. "Sorry. I'm sure."

"I'll give them a call," Bruce replied, finishing off his final sandwich. He didn't say a word about Dick's outburst.

Dick made his way down to the cave some time later. He curled up in the computer chair and found Bruce's copy of the footage. He stared at the file icon, not daring to open it. He knew Bruce had seen some of it, just not how much. Dick didn't need to watch it. Even now, he could recall the first night down to the smallest details.

Dick wanted to claw off his skin. His nails dug deep welts into his arms. They'd wrecked him that first night, destroyed him so utterly that he would never be the same again. And they had the fucking gall to film it and store it and probably watch it over and over again for their own disgusting reasons.

And now more people would watch it. It didn't matter their intentions, or how they'd feel about it. He just wished it had all stayed in that compound. He wished Skinner had been there the night he and Iman killed everyone. He wished he'd thought to destroy the tapes himself, that he'd been strong enough to stop it from happening to him ever again.

He wanted it to stop. But it was never going to stop. Who knew how many people had access to that footage? Who knew how many people kept it for their personal enjoyment? Thousands of people could have watched it and Dick would never know.

This hell was endless. Even if, by some fucking miracle, they won this new trial, the video was out there already. Bruce had destroyed the tapes in the compound, but there must have been more copies stored elsewhere. They could be anywhere.

And he'd willingly let the damn thing be distributed even further.

"Dick." Large hands gently lifted his fingers from his bleeding arm. A handkerchief dried his cheeks, a second one pressing into the deep scratches he'd inflicted on that arm.

"Dick, it's all right. Take a deep breath." Bruce's voice was soft but firm. Dick breathed. His heart pounded out of control. He hadn't noticed that before.

Bruce backed off as soon as Dick was calm enough to hold the handkerchief long enough for the man to fetch a first-aid kit. The antiseptic stung his cuts.

"How much did you watch?" Dick asked Bruce, watching the man clean his arm. "Of the video, I mean."

"As little as possible," Bruce assured him. "I ran it on fast-forward, noted time stamps and moved on."

"Thanks." Hearing that helped a little.

"Did you watch it?"

"Don't need to."

Bruce looked down to dress the cuts. "I see."

"Are the Skinner and the others getting searched?"

Bruce nodded. "Anything incriminating will be confiscated. Commissioner Gordon is handling the evidence very carefully. Van Dorn and I are vetting every officer who will have access and only a few of them will be permitted to watch anything."

Dick still felt like throwing up. Nothing felt like enough. It was too late. Too many people had seen it already.

Bruce packed up the first-aid kit. "It still bothers you, doesn't it?"

Dick found himself nodding before he'd even decided whether or not he wanted to respond. "It's..." His throat hurt. "It's like. Every person who watches that video, what Skinner and the others did to me... it's like they're involved now. Like they're..."

Bruce set the kit aside but remained on the floor, below Dick's level. It felt deliberate.

"It's like I'm being violated all over again," Dick finally managed.

"I can still call Van Dorn," Bruce offered. "She likely hasn't seen the video yet. We don't have to put it in the trial."

"No," Dick replied, "but we should."

Bruce's lips twisted as if he was in pain. "You've made so many sacrifices for this trial already, Dick. You don't have to put yourself through this."

"I don't want them to win again," Dick said quietly. His vision blurred, and a fresh handkerchief was pressed into his hand. How many of those things did Bruce have?

"If you're absolutely sure you want to do this, I'll talk to Janet. She'll make sure the video is only used if it has to be. I promise."

Dick reached blindly for him, catching his fingers. He squeezed them. Bruce let him do it for as long as he needed.