"How's the preparations going?"

"Almost all set - just a few more things to be put into place, and then we're good to go."

-.-.-.-

The past few weeks had been a mix of unabashed terror, constant anxiety and exhausting moves.

Tobias had shuffled Dick from foxhole to foxhole. Dick never stayed in the same place for more than 3 days… even though he was still regularly sneaking into the HangOut in order to 'work'.

Not that Tobias or the rest of the kitchen crew let him work much.

Still, it was nice. Knowing that there were people looking out for him. Knowing that he didn't necessarily need to keep the truth about the Owls out there from Tobias, Zee-Cue, Doug and the Waynes.

Dr Bruce Wayne had a habit of showing up every few days to check up on him, make sure the leg was healing fine - that sort of thing. Nice.

Strange. But nice.

Dick sighed as he tapped out his password into his XOver, accessing the little backdoor he left for himself in the system. It really wasn't like Giz and Mouse to leave a rival backdoor code into a system they made alone.

Strange.

Dick browsed through the system when he spotted a curious flagged outgoing message.

"Huh, hit on Giz and Mouse? Guess they skipped town - might need to tell the Crew that they don't need to keep an eye out for them anymore."

Really, Dick was mildly impressed. Giz and Mouse showed no signs of wanting to leave the Owl's employ - then again who'd want to if their base response is 'sick an assassin on them'? Dick could appreciate the amount of planning it probably took them to put together an exit plan with the resources they had.

Especially since his exit plan was, basically, get out of the Labyrinth and then go from there. To be fair on himself - unlike Giz and Mouse he had zero contact with the world beyond that dimly lit maze of horrors.

A series of knocks rapped against the door of the small studio setup Tobias had designated as his foxhole for the night. There was a pause, then another series of knocks came.

Dick stood and walked over to the door, tapping out a series of long and short beats. The reply came and Dick cracked open the door to reveal Bruce Wayne on the other side.

"You know, it still surprises me that a doctor would be so familiar with morse code."

"You try growing up with Lois and see if military doesn't insidiously seep into your life."

"Fair enough doc."

Bruce rolled his eyes good naturedly as he stepped into the safehouse. "Tobias and my mum are meeting up, something about her wanting to help sponsor the Network."

"That's good I guess? I dunno. I mean - yeah I'm a weird case."

"And given that this is Gotham, weird is weird."

"Ahem," Dick glared at Bruce, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to interrupt?"

"Well, Alfred and mum have been trying for ages now. Really, the only time I'm not abrupt is when I'm in a professional setting… which means…"

"Oh joy - you're comfortable with a 16 year old. Sound the alarm."

Bruce reached over and ruffled Dick's hair. "Now son, I hope if someone does have ill intentions towards you that you will speak up to the people who need to know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Bruce, anyone tell you you can be a mother hen?"

-.-.-.-

"Thank you for the dinner Thomas, Martha, Alfred."

"No worries, it's our pleasure to meet you and little Toby too." Martha smiled.

Alfred gave Thomas a significant look.

"Right!" Thomas stood from his place. "With your permission Tobias, I would like to show Toby here our music room. I understand your girl is an artist in the making!"

Tobias nodded, "Sure. I know your wife has a couple more things to discuss with me that might be a bore for little ears."

"Tobias I'm not that little! I'm 8!"

Tobias' eyes did his little eye smile, "So, you don't want to go to the music room and instead you want to stay here and listen to me talk funding with Mrs Wayne?"

"Music room!"

Tobias tilted his head, hawk-like, at Thomas Wayne. "Then go on, skedaddle."

Giggling, Toby and Thomas left the room. Tobias watched as shutters seemed to fall down across Alfred's face.

"Don't worry, your little one is in good hands."

"I know."

"So," Martha said, "About the Owls."

"Yes, you mentioned in an earlier phone call that the preparations were nearly done?"

"Nearly." She sighed.

"Honestly Mr McKeegan," Alfred interjected, "it might be best for the Kit to take refuge in audacity."

"Put him out there in the open huh? What about those Owls then - wouldn't knowing where he is at all times make him a visible target? And your son has just survived an assassination attempt. Isn't it counterintuitive?"

"True it might be," he replied. "But the point is to get him into the public eye. The more people watching - the less likely they are to snatch him. Between us we have managed to glean that despite all their nonsensical braying about being the true 'rulers' of society and the economy, they'd much prefer to operate in shadows."

Martha picked up Alfred's thread, "Hence why we think maybe it's time we revisit that thing we were going to do those five-to-six years ago. Foster him, with us."

"You were what?" Tobias eyes widened.

"We were going to offer to foster him back then, filled in the forms to apply to be a foster parent and everything. But by the time everything got approved, he had, just gone missing." Martha scowled, "And that was basically how we found out about that racket."

"Oh I heard about that social worker scandal - good job on that."

Martha snarled, "She was infuriating. The system failed so badly. Too many lost boys. Too many lost lives."

They sat in silence. "Who else were you four thinking of bringing in on the 'it's us versus the Owls' situation?" Tobias finally said.

"Lucius Fox. He has a son who's about our boy's age. We can vouch for him."

"You mean your CEO?"

"Well, yes?"