Note: Thanks for commenting, Rollerparty and LlCS! Your comments keep me motivated to continue writing. :)
Rollerparty - I'm absolutely positive that I knew nothing about Lady Arkham until you brought her up in a comment (and I immediately looked her up).
LlCS - keep your hopes up for him! Also, they've been apart for far too long to not get some sort of cuddles, right? ;-)
Office of Greg Makov – eight hours earlier:
Greg had heard about last night's 'excitement' in the Dunston's neighborhood. He needed to go over there today to make sure Dick was okay. But first he needed to organize his notes – both paper and mental – that he had recorded during these last few days, followed by his appointment with Bruce Wayne.
Clark Kent and Dr. Leslie Thompkins were both reputable professionals and Greg trusted them. Kent had made some very good points and one of them stood out to Greg like a lighthouse in a storm – why would Bruce Wayne jeopardize his own happiness by giving his ward a harsh punishment? If the millionaire was happy, that meant he cared about the boy. And if he cared about the boy, there was no logical reason for him to shoot Dick. Therefore, Bruce Wayne was telling the truth about Dick's kidnapping. Which meant that Bruce had not shot Dick.
Alfred had been very informative while giving Greg a tour of Wayne Manor. The social worker had been surprised when the butler had specifically pointed out that Dick's room was right next door to that of Bruce. Greg had assumed that the 'selfish playboy' – as Susan had called Bruce – would want his own space and not want to be bothered while sleeping. But if the boy had nightmares, as a stunned Bruce had mentioned the other night, then that same 'selfish' man would be woken up every time. So, clearly, Bruce either cared about Dick or was such a deep sleeper that a child screaming in fear didn't even wake him up. Greg was leaning toward the former.
It was obvious that Bruce would be able to help Dick with certain emotions. Greg knew the millionaire's backstory, as did everyone else in Gotham City, and Dick's was a near-perfect match. But, did Bruce allow his anger at what had happened to him affect how he treated Dick? Emotional stability was important for a ten-year-old boy, and Greg wasn't quite sure where to put Bruce on that scale. Yet.
Finally, Greg had to admit, he had walked into this situation with a lot of preconceptions. It hadn't been his fault, he had just been going off of Susan's notes at the beginning, but the fact that Dick wasn't at Wayne Manor was his fault. The man also had to admit to himself that if he had gone to the house of a regular family and heard them yelling at each other, he would not have jumped to the conclusion that the kids weren't safe with their parents. As Clark, Bruce, and even Dick had said: everyone has arguments. And, as Greg well knew from his personal experiences, sometimes arguments can become loud.
Sighing, Greg thought about his interview with Dick. The way the boy's gaze had flicked toward Matilda before he replied to the statement about her cuddling; the 'sir' coming out of his mouth almost every time he said something; the lack of hesitation when answering questions, except that one time at the end when he and Dick were alone on the porch.
And the emotions that were bursting out of those expressive eyes. Greg had pondered that expression during the long drive back to his office and decided that his interpretation was correct. Determination, desperation and, at the very last moment of his interview, fear. But the man could come up with no logical reason why. The Dunstons had been taking Greg's cases for years and no other child had ever seemed afraid.
Dick was only ten, though, so maybe that was part of it. The Dunstons were used to teenagers, not ten-year-old boys, and hadn't raised any of their own kids. Maybe they weren't as confident in their abilities to take care of a younger child and their uncertainty was rubbing off on the boy. Or, perhaps they had been frustrated about something he hadn't understood just because he wasn't a teenager. But Greg was positive that Jasper and Matilda would never harm even a hair on the head of any child Greg placed with them. They were nice people and he had no evidence of any wrongdoing on their part. So, logically, Dick was scared because he was ten and didn't know them very well yet.
But…desperate?
Greg put that back in the file cabinet in his mind. It was time to go see Bruce Wayne and take a look at the video of the alleged slap.
He arrived at Wayne Manor at exactly ten o'clock. Alfred opened the door before Greg had a chance to ring the bell.
"Good morning, Mr. Makov," the butler said pleasantly. "Master Bruce is waiting for you in the gym. The video is ready to play in the study but he wants to show you a few things first."
"Good morning to you, Mr. Pennyworth. Lead the way, please."
"If you would like, you may call me Alfred, Mr. Makov."
"Only if you call me Greg," the man stated with a grin.
"Very well," the butler replied with an inaudible sigh. "Follow me, please."
Alfred led the social worker down the hall and into the gym. Bruce was sitting on the same bench Susan had been sitting on when she had interviewed Dick.
He stood up and held out his hand when Greg walked in. Greg reciprocated and Bruce motioned to the bench.
"Have a seat, Greg, so I can show you something."
Nodding, the man sat down where Dick had been sitting on that day. Bruce walked to his left and pointed up at the ceiling.
"You see that?" he asked.
Greg squinted his eyes and searched the corner. There was some sort of tiny, black object situated on the wall but Greg had no idea what it was.
"It's a camera," Bruce answered the unasked question after seeing the confusion on the other man's face.
"Okay," Greg commented.
"It's always on and when the tape is full it is immediately, and automatically, transferred to a server. I won't go into all the technical details. I just need you to know that there is no way for anybody to alter the date or time of any video that comes out of that camera. Or any other camera in my house."
"Okay," the social worker repeated.
"Susan was sitting right here," Bruce explained as he sat down, "and Dick was sitting right where you are now. I just want you to know the layout, so you don't have to try to figure out the location of everything when you watch the video."
Greg nodded then asked, "Is Dick working on that with you?"
He was pointing to Alfred's half-painted mural on the wall.
"He…was," Bruce replied softly.
"Does he enjoy painting?"
"Yes, but it's not something he would choose to do on his own. He would rather read a book or play a game or do something involving a lot of movement," the millionaire replied with a slight grin. "But Alfred drew it so we were painting it. Together."
"So if I asked him what he wanted to do, would 'paint a picture' be something that would come out of his mouth?"
Batman knew where this question was coming from and he was grateful for the answer he was about to give.
"No. The only time he's shown interest in painting is when we started to do this. He's never brought it up out of the blue or asked to do it."
"Hmmm," Greg murmured thoughtfully. "May I see the video now?"
"Of course, this way," Bruce responded as he stood up. "How is Dick? You didn't call me yesterday after your visit."
"I did…oh, I called to make an appointment with you. I'm sorry, Bruce, it completely slipped my mind."
Bruce was internally irritated but he nodded amiably.
"We all forget things once in a while," he commented. "So, how is he?"
"He seems to be doing fine. I talked to him with the family and I talked to him alone. He is uninjured and had no problem answering questions. I can tell by your face that you are worried about that."
Bruce was surprised that Greg had noticed his expression of apprehension.
"How well do you know this family, Greg?"
"I've been working with them for many years. And I've never had any problems with any of the children that have been placed there. You have no reason to worry, Bruce. They are kind people and would never hurt him."
"You're absolutely sure?"
"Yes," Greg replied firmly. "Absolutely."
Bruce nodded again and led Greg into his study. There were two chairs set up in front of the TV and Bruce offered one to Greg before sitting down himself. He really didn't want to watch this again but he also didn't really have a choice.
Alfred pressed 'play' and the interview began. Greg listened carefully and disbelief began growing in his chest. Dick had been telling the truth; Susan was deliberately trying to turn around everything the boy was saying. She was attempting to trip him up and paint Bruce in a very bad light.
"It's my responsibility to get on the bus!"
"So he's neglected to teach you responsibility, then."
How could she do that to a ten-year-old child?! Greg was growing more incredulous with every word. Susan was one of the best social workers he had ever known, yet here she was confusing the poor boy because of a personal grudge.
And then it happened. Susan said something about selfishness but that flew out of Greg's mind when he saw what happened next.
Dick yelled, "He's not selfish and you're bringing your personal feelings into what is supposed to be a conversation about how I'm doing! You don't even care about me!"
And Susan, without hesitation, had slapped him so hard it had whipped the boy's chin over his shoulder. It was the type of slap a woman should use on someone who was attacking her, not someone who was mad because of the way she was questioning him! And most certainly not a ten-year-old child!
Bruce had jumped to his feet and was pacing with his jaw clenched but Greg didn't even notice. Now he was listening to one of his colleagues commanding one of her children to keep quiet about what had just happened.
The video stopped and Greg sat frozen in horror. He finally noticed the agitated pacing of the man beside him and completely understood why. If someone had slapped his child like that, Greg would have done more than just pace.
"I would like to see what happens next," he said quietly, his voice slightly shaky.
Alfred glanced at Bruce, who nodded and sat back down. Greg watched Bruce storm into the room and demand that Susan leave and take herself off the case. He noticed the other man's eyes give Dick a once-over before he began speaking to the woman. Bruce had checked on Dick first; the boy had been his first priority. Any doubts about the millionaire fled when Greg watched him sit down and carefully examine the small cheek that was now red. There was no way that this man, now gently holding the boy in his arms, was a danger to that very boy.
Alfred stopped the tape again and Greg glanced sideways at Bruce. The millionaire was slouched in his chair, an elbow on the arm of the chair and his forehead resting on his hand. It had obviously been difficult for Bruce to watch and, again, Greg completely understood why.
"It seems that, um, some things have been taken out of context," Greg stated softly.
"You think?" Bruce mumbled sarcastically.
Alfred quietly cleared his throat and the millionaire immediately sat up.
"I'm sorry," Bruce said, "I shouldn't have said that."
"There is no reason for you to apologize, Bruce. I've done almost everything wrong, all because a woman who was holding a grudge gave me some notes. I hadn't seen anything for myself but I used those notes as an excuse to rip him away from everything. To rip him away from you. And you, Alfred," he added, glancing at the butler.
"If anyone needs to apologize," Greg continued, "it should be me. I'll close this case when I get back to the office and Dick will be home later today."
"Home?" Bruce asked, disbelief in his voice.
"This is his home, Bruce. You are his parent, in every important way, and I'm deeply sorry about everything both you and he have gone through because of me."
"Mr. Makov, are you saying that we have no reason to worry about Master Dick being taken away?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying, Mr. Pennyworth. He belongs with you two, that's obvious. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll go close a case and retrieve a little boy who has been grieving for you."
"Thank you, Greg," Bruce whispered, looking as stunned as he had the night Greg had taken Dick away. "You don't know…I can't express…I'm…"
"I get it, Bruce. After speaking with Clark Kent, Dr. Thompkins, both of you, Dick, and watching this horrifying video, I finally get it. Dick will be home for dinner."
"Thank you," the millionaire whispered again.
Alfred walked Greg to the door and whispered his own gratitude as the man walked away. Turning back with a slight grin, Greg nodded.
"Thank you for your help, Mr. Pennyworth."
A small smile graced the butler's face and, with a polite nod, he replied, "Mr. Makov."
Office of Greg Makov:
As soon as he returned to his office, Greg called Lisa in and began explaining the situation. She took notes as he talked, gasped when he described the video, and almost cried for the boy she had been holding only five days ago. The boy who was undoubtedly completely traumatized again.
It took the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon for Greg to get everything squared away. At three o'clock, he signed his name on the last piece of paper. With a sigh of both regret and relief, Greg closed the thick file of Richard John Grayson and returned it to his filing cabinet.
Greg sat at his desk for a moment, reviewing everything he had seen and heard. As he himself had said, he had done everything wrong from the very beginning. And a ten-year-old boy had paid for Greg's mistakes.
Shaking his head, the man pushed away from his desk and stood up. Since he wouldn't be returning to his office – it would be almost six o'clock before he dropped Dick off – he grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door. It was time to take Dick Grayson home.