Note: As always, thanks for the comment, Rollerparty! You're awesome!

As a reminder, the next ten or so chapters of this story are very graphic. They involve an extensive amount of corporal punishment/child abuse so please don't read them if it's a trigger or becomes too much. These chapters were written when I was in kind of a crappy place in my life. I took it all out on Dick so parts of them are pretty dark.

Wayne Manor:

"What do you think he's doing right now, Alfred?"

"That's impossible to know, Master Bruce, but I'm sure he's fine. The note said a 'nice family'. He's probably reading a book, or playing, or running around outside."

"You're right, he's fine," Bruce murmured in response. "I just wish I knew for sure. What if he's so sad that he's just sitting in a chair doing nothing?"

"Sir, there's nothing we can do about it," the butler sighed. "We'll just have to wait out the two weeks and be strong for him when he returns."

"I know, but he must be so scared! It's almost the same thing that happened to him last year, only we didn't die!"

"Yes, Master Bruce, it is almost exactly the same."

"Torn away from the only family he knows and put in a house with complete strangers."

"Yes, sir."

"What if they have a pool?!"

"Master Dick can swim, sir."

"But accidents happen! What if they don't watch him?!"

"He is an excellent swimmer, Master Bruce."

"What if they have a trampoline and he jumps too high and falls off and breaks his neck? What if he climbs a tree and falls out and breaks his arm? What if they have a gun and he accidentally gets shot?!"

"Master Bruce," Alfred sighed again, "I'm sure they are responsible people who are taking very good care of him. Mr. Makov would not call them a 'nice family' if he had no prior experience with them, sir. As you have often said, it does no good to dwell on 'what ifs'."

"You're right," Bruce mumbled.

"It's nearly dinner time, sir. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course, Alfred, thank you."

Dunston's house:

Dick was dripping with sweat again but he had finished the bush. It had taken him the entire afternoon but there was not a single branch sticking out. He had discovered that an axe required more than just arm strength. His entire body was tired from the effort of chopping off so many branches. The branches were weak, it probably would have taken Jasper five or six hits to knock one down, but Dick was only ten. Sometimes, he had been forced to jump while swinging the axe down in order to generate enough power to make a dent in a branch.

The bush wasn't perfectly straight, but Dick hoped it was close enough. Now for the fence. But he had no idea where the paint was, or the brush. And, of course, he wasn't allowed to ask.

"Dick," Matilda called, "time for dinner!"

Dinner! Dinner was supposed to be on the table at five o'clock! But he couldn't keep track of time out here. Why hadn't they called him?! Or maybe that's why she was calling him, maybe it was time to rinse off and prepare dinner.

Dick sprinted across the lawn and put the axe away. Then he ran to the porch, where Matilda was waiting for him.

"You were working so hard that I let you finish instead of calling you in for dinner. I made it tonight so you're welcome."

She paused so Dick, relief evident in his voice, said, "Thank you, ma'am."

"Go rinse off and come inside to eat," she continued. "Don't take too long; we don't want the food to get cold."

He quickly ran to the hose and splashed water on his face and hands. Dick hadn't gone down on his knees to trim so he didn't think he needed an entire "shower". Three minutes later he was opening the back door.

The smell that greeted him was delicious and the sight was even better. Three juicy hamburgers were sitting on the table, one on each plate. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen.

"Come on, Dick," Jasper said, pointing to the empty chair. "Sit down and eat."

Dick had never heard such beautiful words. He almost ran to the table and sat down. The adults were already eating so the boy picked up the hamburger and took a bite. It was the most overcooked piece of meat he had ever eaten but it was delicious to him.

"I'm not a good cook," Matilda admitted. "They're a little dark, aren't they?"

Tell the truth and maybe get in trouble or lie? Dick wouldn't take the risk.

"It's very good, ma'am."

"Well, thank you, sweetie!" she exclaimed. "You know, you don't have to almost whisper every time you talk. We need to be able to hear you."

Dick nodded and put the last bite of hamburger in his mouth.

"I have a few things to tell you," Jasper began. "First, I put the alarm clock in your room. It's preset to six o'clock. Second, Sunday is a day of rest; you don't have chores or a workout. You still have to make meals, of course. Third, the fence needs to be painted before you go to bed. I'm not going to stay up to watch; I've had a long day. You're going to do your workout first so I can get to bed early. Any questions?"

"Yes, sir. Where are the painting supplies?"

"Hmmmm," Jasper murmured. "You didn't see them by the axe or the hose?"

"I, um, didn't look, sir, I didn't, uh, think about it."

"Go check and if they aren't there come back inside."

Dick stood up, put his plate in the sink and went outside. The sun was low in the west; painting was going to be difficult in the dark. At least the backyard was small.

He checked the east side first but there was only a hose. On the west side, three paint cans were against the wall in the far corner. But there was no brush. Dick returned to the house so he could ask where the brush was located.

"Find them?" Jasper asked when Dick walked in the door.

"I found the paint, sir, but there was no brush."

"Well, take care of the dishes while I go find it."

Nodding, the boy cleared the table and did the dishes. There were only the three plates, a skillet and spatula so it didn't take him very long. Jasper returned carrying a large paint brush just as Dick put away the skillet.

"I'll turn on the porch light and give you a flashlight," the man stated. "But first you're working out so let's go."

"Jasper, dear, he just ate. Pushups first so he doesn't get a cramp or throw up."

"Good idea, Matilda, thank you."

"You're welcome," she answered with a smile.

Dick and Jasper went outside. The man showed him how to position himself for the pushups: hands on the trampoline, body straight, feet on the ground. Dick followed his example and began doing pushups. He got to twenty before his arms gave out.

"It's your first time," Jasper said kindly. "Take a little rest and then do your next twenty."

Dick's eyes widened in surprise – he was allowed to rest?! – but Jasper didn't see it in the darkness. The man had turned on the porch light but the bulb was weak and flickered from time to time.

He received a thirty-second rest and then the ten-year-old began again. Dick made it to thirty-seven and was allowed a fifteen second rest. Then he made it to forty-five and got ten seconds. The last five were the hardest pushups he had ever done in his entire life. At fifty he dropped his knees and tilted off the trampoline, breathing heavily.

"Okay," Jasper stated, "time to jump. Remember it's fifteen minutes today as part of your discipline. Gotta learn these lessons, right?"

"Yes…sir," Dick gasped.

Standing up, he shakily stepped onto the trampoline and began jumping. Matilda had suggested pushups first so he wouldn't get cramps but Dick was cramped anyway. He decided she had probably never done pushups and, therefore, didn't know that abdominal muscles were involved.

After five minutes he was wheezing, his arms were wrapped around his stomach and he was hunched over. Sweat was constantly dripping onto the ground, along with tears of pain.

"Stop," Jasper commanded, shaking his head. "You're not going to make it, Dick, I can tell. I'm not giving you a choice tonight. You messed up at lunch and now you haven't – you can't – finish your workout. I'll put the alarm clock in the basement since that's where you'll be sleeping tonight. You paint, you clean up, you go down there and go to bed. Understand?"

"Yes…sir," Dick gasped, as he had after pushups.

"In case I didn't mention it before, it's only the back fence that needs painting. The block walls are already gray, you're just painting the wooden ones to match. You get the paint cans and take them over while I get you a flashlight."

Dick did as he was told but it took him three trips – one for each paint can. He was exhausted and in pain and just wanted to drop down and sleep for a week. But he didn't want to get in more trouble than he already was so he wasn't going to give himself even a moment to rest. While Jasper was out here, anyway.

The man was waiting by the back fence by the time Dick brought the last can over. He turned on the beam, pointed it at the fence, and walked away. Dick stared at the red slabs of wood and wished he hadn't even brought up the fact that Batman hadn't gone after the killer. He probably wouldn't even be here if he had kept his mouth shut about it.

It was going to take more than one coat of paint for gray to cover red. Dick had no idea what time it was but knew he needed at least a little bit of sleep. So, he grabbed the brush and took a can of paint to the west end of the fence. And realized he couldn't open it. He pulled at the top as hard as he could and he tried forcing the handle of the brush under the lip of the lid for leverage. Neither one worked.

Scared out of his mind, but more worried about what would happen if he didn't paint, Dick walked to the house. He was surprised to see Matilda sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"What do you need, sweetie?"

"I can't open the paint."

Rolling her eyes, the woman yelled, "Jasper, Dick's having trouble painting!"

Jasper strode out of his bedroom, still fully dressed.

"I was just about to change and get in bed," he grumbled as he stomped out the door and headed for the fence. "Are you completely helpless?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry. It's just that the lid won't come off and I'm not strong enough…"

"Don't try to make up excuses," Jasper snapped.

He easily pulled the lids off all three cans of paint then turned to Dick.

"Inside, hands against the wall, three for being helpless," he commanded.

Dick burst into tears but followed the man inside.

"Go get it!" Jasper shouted when Dick turned to face the wall.

The boy ran to the laundry room and retrieved the belt. His entire body was trembling when he returned and his eyes were red from crying.

"Oh, Jasper, calm down," Matilda said, shaking her head. "I can't even get the lids off the paint cans. Just go to bed, I'll take care of it."

Jasper thought for a moment then nodded and handed the belt to his wife. Grumbling about helpless children, he went to his bedroom and closed the door.

"Did you finish your workout, hon?" the woman asked sweetly.

"No, ma'am."

"That's what Jasper told me. Oh well, it's your first day. Go put this away and get to painting. I'm staying up until you're in the basement so make it quick," she demanded.

Dick took the belt she was holding and ran back to the laundry room. This time the flowing tears were from relief instead of fear. After hanging up what he considered to be a weapon, the ten-year-old forced his tired body to race out the door to the fence.

It took three coats worth of gray paint to cover all the red. He had to wait for each coat to dry so, since there was no sun, it took him five hours to finish. By the time he stumbled inside, the house was dark. Matilda had gone to bed.

Dick turned on the bathroom light and stared at himself in the mirror. His face had spots of gray paint, as did his hair. Glancing down at his body, he was dismayed to see paint all over his shirt and arms. Turning around, he looked at the kitchen clock – 1:37. Would they get mad if he wasn't clean in the morning?

It was another risk he decided not to take. Sighing, he turned off the bathroom light and went back outside. He had placed the flashlight on the porch, so he picked it up and walked down the steps. Then he remembered the brush and decided he should clean that, too. Back to the fence he went, staggering from exhaustion.

By the time he had cleaned the brush, scrubbed himself, walked around to dry off, and gone back inside, it was 2:30. Dick turned on the bathroom light again and was surprised to see that his face and hair were completely paint-free. He turned off the light, laid on the kitchen floor, and fell asleep.

The next morning – Wayne Manor:

There was no little boy sitting at the table when Bruce strode into the room. He had known that was going to be the case, but he had allowed himself a tiny sliver of hope. Perhaps this had all just been a bad dream.

Breakfast was already laid out but the man had no appetite. What if Dick wasn't happy with the 'nice family'? What if they didn't like him, so they ignored him? Bruce could see Dick sitting in a small bedroom, sad and lonely. The picture almost made him cry so the man tossed it out of his mind. Alfred was right – Dick was fine.

The Dunston's house:

The bright sun shining through the kitchen window is what woke him up. Dick slowly opened his eyes, expecting to see the large window in his bedroom at Wayne Manor. Perhaps this had all just been a bad dream. But he was lying on a hard kitchen floor, staring up at a clock that said 6:15.

Alarmed, Dick tried to get to his feet. His entire body was sore, it hurt to move every single muscle. But he didn't want to get in trouble, so he forced himself to stand up. He felt stiff and hot and was still exhausted. Glancing down, he was dismayed to see a light sunburn covering all four of his limbs. Dick looked back to the bathroom mirror; his face was the same.

"Great," he mumbled sarcastically.

It was now 6:20 so he stopped wasting time and went to the nearby fridge. Scrambled eggs and cheese. They had enjoyed it yesterday so he was going to make it again today. And he would be able to eat them, too. He had noticed that nobody had used the salsa, so he didn't need to put that out.

Dick glanced at the clock after breaking the fifth egg – 6:29. He stopped what he was doing and quickly washed his hands. The clock turned to thirty so the ten-year-old went to the bedroom door and knocked three times.

"We're up," someone growled, so Dick returned to the eggs.

The eggs were cooking and the cheese was melting when the Dunstons came out at 6:50. Jasper immediately sat down but Matilda stood at the table, staring at the boy in surprise.

"Dick, why are you all red?" she asked.

"Sunburn, ma'am," he replied.

"Oh. Well, after breakfast I'll get you some lotion for that. Don't want you blistering up and having to go to the hospital. You're welcome."

"Thank you, ma'am," the boy whispered, the words almost inaudible.

"What is that annoying beeping sound?" Jasper grumbled. "Sounds like that dang alarm clock."

Dick, who was stirring the cheese into the eggs, widened his eyes. He hadn't slept in the basement, which meant he hadn't turned off the alarm clock.

Matilda noticed the boy's back stiffen and she narrowed her eyes. Turning around, she went to the basement door, opened it, and walked down the stairs. Dick dared to glance that way as he scooped eggs onto three plates. Maybe she wouldn't think he hadn't slept down there. She had, after all, saved him from a beating last night.

It was exactly seven o'clock when Dick placed a plate in front of Jasper and another in front of Matilda's empty chair. He then brought his plate over and sat down, just as the woman marched up the stairs.

"Dick," she began, "why is this alarm clock still beeping?"

Jasper glanced up from his breakfast and raised his eyebrows. Dick was going to get in trouble if they discovered his lie but he was going to try anyway.

"I, um, didn't know how to turn it off. Ma'am," he added.

"You didn't know how to push this big button on the top?" she asked skeptically.

"I didn't, uh, think about that."

"Dick," Jasper growled, suspicion evident in his raspy voice, "where is the bed in the basement?"

The ten-year-old remained silent. He had no idea; he hadn't even been able to see the floor when he had been given the tour of the house. Matilda set the alarm clock on the table and pushed the large button, effectively turning it off.

"Why would you lie to us, sweetie?" Matilda asked. "Here we are, being so nice, and you decide to lie to us!"

"Are you saying he didn't sleep in the basement?!" Jasper shouted.

It was a question. Not completely directed at him, but still a question. Both adults were glaring at him so he chose to answer.

"It was late and…"

Jasper jumped to his feet so quickly and forcefully that he knocked his chair over. He grabbed Dick by the arm and marched him outside. Bending them both down, he pushed Dick under the porch then, apparently, changed his mind. The man pulled the boy back out and reached under the porch. When he brought his hand out, he was holding the chains that Dick had seen during his 'tour'.

"First," he snarled, "you don't take your punishment. Then, you try to lie about it. The one was bad enough but adding another was idiotic."

Jasper grabbed Dick's arm and pulled him up. He strode around the eastern corner and shoved the boy against the wall. Dick stumbled and fell, crying out when he landed on his extremely tender bottom.

The man was crouching and had connected one end of the chains to the pipe that was hooked to the hose. He took the other end and wrapped it tightly around Dick's wrists. Matilda was suddenly beside them, holding a giant roll of tape and a small handkerchief.

"Such bad decisions, hon," she tsked. "I thought you had learned your lesson, sweetie, after Jasper's excellent discipline with the belt."

"I'm sor…" Dick started but immediately shut his mouth.

"Yes," Jasper grumbled, "you will be."

He stuffed the handkerchief in Dick's mouth and sealed it in with a long strip of tape.

"You're making me sad, Dick," Matilda said, disappointment striding through the words. "This is the worst we've had to do in a long time. Don't you feel bad about disappointing us?"

Dick nodded so fast that he thought his neck would break. But he was hoping that it would show remorse and, maybe, lighten his punishment a little bit.

"We'll come back when it's lunchtime," Jasper stated, "to move you to the other side of the house. Then we'll let you in when the sun goes down."

"Sweetie, you've just made one mistake after another since you've arrived. The rules aren't that hard to remember; all you have to do is obey."

Realizing that he was going to be sitting in the sun all day and not eating at all, Dick allowed the tears to stream down his cheeks. He was still exhausted from yesterday and the lack of sleep this morning. His stomach was already protesting the lack of food. It was going to be a long day and, he supposed, one of the hardest of his life.

Jasper rolled his eyes and stood up.

"You cry more than any kid I've met," he growled. "Stop, because it's annoying."

The man strode away and Matilda crouched in front of the boy.

"You can cry all you want, hon, just shut it down when Jasper comes," she whispered. "And spend the day thinking about how you're going to make this up to us. I hope you come up with something good, for your sake."

She, too, stood up and left. Dick dropped his head, curled his body into itself and cried.