Note: Thanks for the comment, Rollerparty. It's true, it's horrible that there are people like Jastilda in real life.

As a reminder, the next seven 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.

The above statement especially applies to the end of this chapter. The entire part after Greg interviews Bruce is pretty graphic and if you decide to skip it you won't miss any plot points.

Sundown:

They had moved him at lunch time, as they had said they would. However, Matilda had convinced Jasper to put him in the shade under the porch. So, Dick had been lying on his side under the porch for about six hours by the time they came back.

Jasper reached under and easily undid the chains around the boy's wrists.

"Out," he demanded and Dick quickly obeyed.

The ten-year-old was dizzy, his vision was blurry, his head hurt, his entire body was hot, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. The tape had stayed over his mouth so he could only get air through his nose and every muscle was begging for rest and relief. But he wasn't going to say anything about it. He had decided to be strong for Bruce and Alfred. Mr. Mack had said Dick was weak, Jasper had said he was helpless, but Bruce and Alfred believed in him. So, he was going to do his best to make them proud.

Jasper ripped the tape off the boy's mouth and Dick immediately spit out the cloth. Matilda gently helped him stand up and led him into the kitchen. Dick stumbled from side to side and almost ran into a wall before stepping into the cool air of the house. He dropped to his knees then his stomach, attempting to cool his body down by lying on the linoleum floor.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Matilda asked, surprise in her voice.

"Hot," Dick mumbled.

"Oh, poor thing," she murmured, even as Jasper grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet. "How are you going to make this up to us, hon?"

"Sleep…basement?" Dick muttered.

"That's it?!" Jasper exclaimed. "After all of your disobedience, you think sleeping in the basement is the best way to redeem yourself?!"

Dick's brain was fuzzy and he couldn't think straight. Jasper's words were mushed together and the boy only caught a few: disobedience, best, redeem. He thought maybe that was good but the man sounded angry, so maybe it wasn't good.

"He's confused, Jasper. I'm putting him to bed and he can try again tomorrow. Come with me, sweetie," Matilda stated.

She led him into her bedroom and to the bathroom. Propping him up against the wall, Matilda began roughly rubbing lotion onto his burning skin. Dick was both grateful and wishing she would stop. It was cool and felt wonderful but it also felt like she was tearing off his skin.

The woman did his face, arms and legs. While she was doing that, Dick noticed something that gave him a tiny sliver of hope. There was a telephone on the table by the bed. If he could get to it when they weren't paying any attention to him, he could call Wayne Manor. He could beg Bruce to talk to Mr. Makov, convince the man to visit without notifying the Dunstons beforehand. After all, the social worker had done that to Bruce.

That led Dick into wondering how the investigation was going. Maybe the man was very efficient and things would move faster than the two week estimate he had given Dick. He didn't know, however, that Greg Makov hadn't even started his investigation because he didn't work on weekends.

Matilda finished her ministrations then took him to the basement door and led him down the stairs. She had a flashlight and she shined it around the small room.

"There's no bed since this is a punishment," she stated with a shrug. "And, like I said before, no lightbulbs. Don't forget to be up in time to make breakfast. Jasper and I will talk about your lack of ideas and decide what to do."

With that, she turned around, walked up the stairs and closed the door. Dick was now in complete darkness. Suddenly the door opened and Matilda came halfway down the stairs.

"Forgot the alarm clock," she said kindly. "And I brought you a bottle of water. Can't have you dying on us, we need the money. I really hope you learned your lesson, sweetie."

Putting the clock and bottle down on the third step from the bottom, she turned around and left again. Dick staggered to the fading outline of the stairs and grabbed the items. The seal on the water bottle was already broken so he twisted the cap off and took a long drink. Then he slid down against the wall and hugged the objects as if his life depended on it. He stayed that way all night.

The next morning – Wayne Manor:

Greg had shown up at eight o'clock, ready to begin his investigation. Alfred had taken him on a tour of the house, spending an extra amount of time in Dick's bedroom and pointing out that Bruce's bedroom was right next door. Dick sometimes had nightmares, he had explained, and Bruce was always there to comfort the boy.

The butler had showed the younger man the chair in Dick's room and talked about the first few months of the boy's time in the Manor. How Dick would scream in terror and how Bruce would spend the night sitting in that very chair, holding the boy in his arms.

When they were in the living room, Alfred had talked about card games and board games and books. He had even taught Greg how to play 'War' so that the man would know it was not a sordid card game that only adults should play. They ended up in the dining room at lunchtime, where Alfred left Greg and Bruce to chat while he prepared lunch.

"Your house is very nice, Mr. Wayne," Greg remarked.

"Thank you, Mr. Makov, you can call me Bruce."

"Since we will be talking a lot throughout my investigation, you can call me Greg."

Bruce dipped his head in a sort of half-nod and waited silently for Greg to continue.

"I'm wondering, Bruce, why it is that you and Dick were arguing so loudly on the day I came for my initial visit. Dick refused to answer, said he didn't want to talk about it. I assume that you will answer it for me, since you are not a traumatized ten-year-old."

Bruce wanted to point out that one of the main reasons Dick was traumatized right now was because he wasn't here, in Wayne Manor. Instead, he focused on finding a reason for their argument besides 'why didn't you change into Batman and go after the killer'.

"Bruce?" Greg said after a minute or two of silence.

Sighing, Bruce stated, "He wanted to know why I hadn't asked Batman to go after the person who murdered his parents."

"Why on earth would he ask that?!"

"I'm a personal friend of Batman, as Commissioner Gordon can tell you. However, I rarely ask the man for a favor. He has many obligations, as you probably know, and I assumed that looking for that particular criminal was already on his list. The murder of the Flying Graysons was a tragedy and a horrific crime. Batman knew that; he didn't need me to tell him."

"Why wouldn't Dick want to tell me this?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it's something that is too fresh for him to tell a stranger about. It's only been a year, Greg."

"You make a good point. I am a stranger to him and, if I were in his place, I probably wouldn't want to talk about it with a new social worker, either."

"It's a very personal matter and something that is very difficult to discuss with anybody. But Dick and I trust each other and he feels safe talking about it with me. Also, of course, I have experienced the same emotions he is struggling with since I was eight."

"But why argue about it?"

"He's a very passionate child, Greg, and he hates injustice. In his eyes, the fact that I didn't personally request Batman to catch the killer is somewhat of an injustice."

"I see. I heard you say something about thinking about what he says before he says it. Can you explain that?"

"I don't remember the exact words he used but it was along the lines of me being an idiot because I didn't ask."

"You're an adult, Bruce."

"I am," the millionaire agreed. "Do you have children, Greg?"

"Yes."

"Would you have been fine with one of your kids calling you an idiot because you didn't ask somebody for a favor?"

"No, of course not."

"So why is this any different?"

"You're not his parent, Bruce, you're his guardian."

Bruce clenched his hands under the table and took a deep breath. That was one of the stupidest things he had ever heard anyone say but he needed to remain calm.

"So you're saying that you can be offended by the statement and get somewhat angry with your child but, because I'm not Dick's biological parent, I'm not allowed to have emotions like that? I'm supposed to just accept whatever he says without complaint, even if it's completely disrespectful? Does a child who is 'just' a ward need no boundaries?"

"That's not what I meant…"

"That's exactly what it sounded like, Greg. I don't feel like I'm 'just' a guardian or Dick is 'just' my ward. I have the same parental rights you do when it comes to setting and enforcing boundaries. Being a guardian doesn't mean letting your ward walk all over you. I take care of him, I protect him, I feed and clothe him, he has a place to sleep, he goes to school and does his homework, he has friends. How am I different from you, besides the fact that your wife birthed your children while my boy was left an orphan and needed a safe place to go?"

"That's a valid point," Greg admitted.

"Have you never raised your voice to your children, Greg?"

"This isn't about me, but I understand where you're going," the man replied. "Both Mr. Kent and Dr. Thompkins think that you treat the boy like a son."

"Because that's what he is to me, Greg. Dick is my son, in every way except biologically."

"Lunch, gentlemen," Alfred said several moments later.

They both said 'thank you' and ate in silence. The silence lingered after the meal so Bruce stood and invited Greg into the living room.

"I think I'm done for today, Bruce. I have several things to ponder in the privacy of my office. Thank you for your time."

"You're welcome and thank you for listening. If I may, how is Dick doing?"

Greg sighed and said, "I can't tell you where he is, Bruce."

"That's not what I asked, Greg."

"I'm planning on checking on him tomorrow morning. I'll call you after I visit him to let you know. You have no reason to worry, Bruce, he's with a good family."

"Thank you," Bruce responded softly.

Greg nodded then walked out the front door that Alfred was respectfully holding open. They watched his car drive away before closing the door and walking to the living room. Bruce collapsed on the couch with a giant sigh.

"You did well, Master Bruce. You told the truth without revealing any identities. Mr. Makov has a lot to think about."

"You were listening."

It was a comment, but the butler replied anyway with a smile.

"Of course, sir, how could I not? After all, I was only a door away and that door is quite thin."

"He's going to come back to us," Bruce said firmly. "Greg Makov is not Susan Jameson and he is very professional and efficient."

"I agree, Master Bruce, and perhaps it will be sooner than his initial estimate."

"I hope so," the millionaire sighed.

Dunstons' house:

While Alfred had been giving Greg a tour, Dick had been working on his daily chores. He had managed to get up the basement stairs and make breakfast on time. The Dunstons hadn't decided what to do about yesterday, so they had told him to get to work.

Dick hadn't slept at all – how could he when it was completely dark? – but he had been allowed to eat breakfast, his first meal in almost thirty-six hours. However, he was running on empty. His muscles were sore, his skin felt hot and was tender to the touch, he was still dizzy from yesterday's dehydration, and he couldn't think straight.

The words from the adults were always jumbled but he could understand enough of them to know what he was supposed to do – daily chores. Jasper had said something about the basement and Matilda had spoken about extra something and both had said bad choices connected with the word harsh.

So, based on that, Dick was terrified. He had made so many mistakes, broken so many rules – mostly by accident but they didn't care about that – and lied. Something very bad was going to happen. The ten-year-old really hoped it had nothing to do with a belt, but Jasper was very good at teaching lessons with that.

Dick finished at eleven-fifteen. He immediately began looking for something to make for lunch. Matilda had said he would be given a menu on Sunday night but he hadn't, so he was just going to make something easy. Like a ham sandwich, exactly how they liked it.

Jasper walked in the kitchen as Dick was getting out the bread.

"I forgot to tell you, Dick, you did good on the fence. Better than I thought you would since it was dark. Didn't even miss a spot. Remember those ten minutes of jumping that I let you get away with during your Saturday workout, since you were feeling so bad?"

Dick nodded so Jasper continued, "Of course you have to make those ten minutes up, right?"

Dick nodded again.

"So, since I'm not a horrible person, I'm adding five minutes today and five tomorrow. You're welcome."

"Thank you, sir," Dick whispered, not quite sure what Jasper had said.

First it had been a good fence followed by dark spot and jumping and bad. He could tell that sentence ended with a question mark so he nodded and hoped he was correct. Apparently he was, because Jasper continued. There was something about five and five and the boy had definitely heard 'you're welcome' so he knew how to respond.

"You're going to work out before lunch today, so your stomach doesn't start cramping up. Fix it right now and you can put it on the table early. Jumping first – fifteen minutes, of course – and then pushups. Understand?"

He didn't. Dick had no idea what Jasper had just ordered him to do. The word 'understand' had popped out at the end so he knew he was supposed to answer yes or no. Should he say yes and get in trouble for doing something in the wrong order, or no and get in trouble for not listening?

"No, sir."

Jasper sighed, annoyed, and demanded, "What didn't you understand about that?"

"Um, I'm kind of fuzzy in the brain, sir."

"We already knew that," Jasper said with a laugh.

"He means he's still confused because of yesterday's lesson," Matilda commented as she entered the kitchen. She bent to Dick's level and said, "Lunch, us, workout, you."

Dick nodded and she continued, "Jump, fifteen, pushups. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am. You eat while I exercise."

"Perfect!" she said with a proud smile. "Jump first?"

"Yes, ma'am, fifteen jumps."

"No, hon," she laughed, "fifteen minutes."

Dick's eyes widened as the words registered. Fifteen minutes of jumping in the hot sun without eating lunch. He was going to drop dead but at least he wouldn't be here anymore. But if he dropped dead he couldn't be with Bruce or Alfred anymore, either. His empty tank got a little fuel when he thought about them. He could do this for them; he could survive.

After finishing the sandwiches and putting them on the table, Dick went outside. To his surprise, both Jasper and Matilda followed him. They sat on the top step of the porch, sandwiches in hand, as he stepped onto the trampoline.

Jasper looked at his watch and said, "Go, and keep going until I tell you to stop."

Ignoring the words he didn't catch, Dick began jumping.

Bruce…Alfred…Bruce…Alfred…

A word for every jump. It helped keep his mind off the pain and hunger…a little bit. Dick couldn't do anything about the dizziness so he stared at the roof of the porch and hoped he wouldn't fall over.

He made it seven minutes before dropping to the ground. Jasper growled and Matilda stood up. She was surprised to see him unconscious when she got there. His breathing was erratic and his heart was racing but he was barely sweating.

"Did you give him water yesterday, Jasper?" the woman asked loudly as she crouched by the prone body.

"No, thought you were," came the reply.

"I did…but only when I took him to the basement. Great," she muttered, "he's dehydrated. We have to take him inside and get some fluids in him," she stated as Jasper joined her.

The phone began to ring and Matilda stood up. She walked away, up the steps and through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Jasper picked up Dick's limp body and was surprised at the heat radiating off his skin.

"Kid can't even do his yard work without getting a sunburn," he muttered angrily.

He walked inside and took Dick into the family room. Jasper laid him on the couch and went to get a washcloth. After all, the boy couldn't make meals if he was unconscious.

"Jasper!" Matilda gasped as she rushed out of their room. "Greg's coming over tomorrow morning!"

"Already?!" the man nearly shouted. "It's only been two and a half days!"

"Better fix him up," she stated, her voice frantic. "We can't have a sick kid; Makov might take him away! We need the money!"

"You lotion up that sunburn and I'll start getting water down his throat!"

It took Dick a full hour to wake up, even with Jasper pouring liquid into him and Matilda vigorously rubbing the lotion onto his dry skin. When he opened his eyes, both adults grinned in relief.

"Good thing you finished your chores, sweetie. You get the rest of the day off because Mr. Makov is coming over tomorrow morning. We need you bright and happy, that's one of the rules, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dick croaked.

He had understood every word. Mr. Makov was coming over tomorrow! Maybe the investigation was finished already! Maybe he could go back to Bruce!

"Don't look too excited," Jasper said with a laugh. "It's been two days and Makov doesn't work on weekends. He probably just started looking into things this morning."

Dick's face fell and Matilda frowned.

"Oh, honey, it's not that bad here. Right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, that's what Mr. Makov likes to hear. You lay here and rest. I'll take care of dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. Isn't that so nice of me?"

"Yes, ma'am, thank you."

"Don't think you're getting out of any punishments, though," Jasper growled. "You're sleeping in the basement for the entire week, Matilda's giving you some extra chores tomorrow and I'm taking the belt to your bum. Haven't decided how many times, depends on your behavior for Mr. Makov. We're going easy on you, aren't we? After everything you've done, we're being so nice to you. You're welcome."

"Thank…you...sir," Dick stammered, his voice shaking. "Pl…plea…"

"Did I ask you a question?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry. I'm just…scared of…of it."

"Scared of what, Dick?" the man asked, his voice gentle.

"The…the belt…sir."

"Well, then you should apply previous corrections so I don't have to repeat your discipline, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir, but I…"

"You're not trying to blame me for your mistakes, right?" Jasper asked, his voice hard.

"No, sir, just please…don't?"

"What would you have me do instead?" Jasper replied, the tone of his voice gentle again. "You broke the rules, Dick, a lot of rules, and then lied about it! Kids need boundaries and you've overstepped them too many times for me to just let it go. When rules are broken, you accept the consequences. It was your choice to break them and your choice to lie about it. Tell me, Dick, how would you punish me if our places were reversed?"

"Um, send you to your room or yell at you? Sir?"

"That's it?!" Jasper exclaimed in disbelief. "You think I would learn a lesson from sitting in my room all day?!"

"But…I wouldn't hit you because that's mean," Dick said without thinking.

Jasper had been kneeling by the couch during the entire conversation. At those words, he stood up and loomed over the small body of the ten-year-old.

"YOU THINK I'M MEAN?!" he thundered.

"No, sir, I'm sorry!" Dick exclaimed as tears of terror began dribbling out of his eyes.

"MATILDA!" Jasper roared, "GET IN HERE!"

The woman rushed into the room and yelled, "What's wrong?!"

"He," Jasper said, viciously pointing his finger at Dick, "said I'm mean!"

"What?!" Matilda exclaimed. "Dick, how could you be so rude and disrespectful?! We're doing everything we should be: feeding you, giving you shelter, helping you learn how to work, teaching you lessons, everything!"

"I'm sorry," Dick sobbed. "I'm scared and I hurt everywhere and I'm tired…"

"Excuses," Jasper snapped. "I will not tolerate excuses for such poor behavior. Stand up and go to the kitchen. You know what to do when you get there!"

"Pl…please…" Dick whispered, "I'm…sorry!"

"Yeah, right," Matilda snapped. "Get up because you obviously need to be taught a lesson in respect!"

Dick slowly began to sit up. It was too slow for the adults. Jasper yanked him to his feet and shoved him at Matilda, who roughly pulled him into the kitchen.

"Against the wall," she snarled. "All we've ever done is help you and you show us this kind of disrespect! After Jasper's done you will go to the basement and stay there until Mr. Makov comes tomorrow! No dinner, no breakfast and the rest of your punishment after he leaves! And if you show any kind of negative emotion to him, even one tiny little frown, I will have Jasper beat you until you can't move anymore! Understand, idiot?!"

"Yes, ma'am," Dick said through his tears.

He was at the wall now, hands on it and arms straight. He heard Jasper come in and tried to picture Bruce and Alfred. He tried to see himself flying on the trapeze, or tumbling into the pit. But everything flew out of his mind with the first hit.

Jasper didn't hold back and he didn't give Dick a moment of rest. The hits came hard and fast, taking the boy's breath away and sending an unending stream of tears down his face. It felt like forever but finally the man stopped. Dick dropped his arms and fell against the wall.

"What are you doing?!" Jasper exclaimed. "My arm is taking a rest but you're not done!"

The pain had worn him out and Dick didn't even hear the words. He slid down the wall to his knees and closed his eyes. Matilda crouched beside him and began whispering.

"If you don't stand up, he'll just do it to your back instead. Oh, and you smell disgusting so you're going outside to take a shower after this. You will not come back in until you are squeaky clean."

She stood up and Jasper snapped the belt. Dick opened his eyes and somehow forced himself to his feet. Three hits later he was down again and didn't care that it was now his back that was on fire. All he wanted to do was float away into darkness. The belt suddenly stopped cracking across his back and he began crying in relief. That feeling didn't last long.

Jasper came over and pulled Dick up then pushed him out the door. Dick had no way to catch himself so he tumbled down the steps and landed flat on his back on the hard ground. He was too tired to scream; all that came out was a whimper.

"What are you doing?!" Matilda screeched. "Go take a shower!"

Something hit his face and then dropped to the ground. Dick opened his eyes, that he hadn't realized were closed, and let his head fall toward the object. It was the bar of soap, and Dick could already feel the bruise blossoming under his eye. At least he would have some evidence for Mr. Makov in the morning.

The kitchen door closed and Dick was left to bake in the sun. He knew he should get up and clean himself up but he had absolutely no energy. Maybe he could just get so sunburned that they would have to take him to the hospital. But suddenly Jasper was looming over him again.

"If you don't get up and take your shower right now," the man snarled, "I will take off all your clothes and discipline you until your entire body is red. Front, back, side and everywhere else. Matilda told you to take a shower, you go take a shower."

Dick nodded and rolled onto his stomach. The pain was intense but he didn't want more of it all over his body. So, he crawled to the eastern side of the house and slowly turned on the water. Jasper, satisfied that the boy was obeying, went back inside the house.

He stayed on his hands and knees, knowing that sitting down would be worse. Weakly, Dick lifted the hose and let the water stream over him. Then he realized that he had forgotten to bring the soap. The ten-year-old groaned and sluggishly crawled back to where he had left it. Then he shakily crawled back – his arms were in danger of collapsing – and washed his face, hands and hair.

Figuring that was good enough, Dick turned off the hose and crawled to the house. It took him five minutes to get up the steps and he collapsed when he got onto the porch.

"Get your muddy body off my porch!" Matilda yelled from the doorway.

Dick pushed himself up and studied his body. To him, it was perfectly clean. Right now, however, his eyesight was that of a mostly blind old man. All he could see were pinpoints of light and shadowy shapes.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," the woman muttered. "Jasper!"

As soon as Jasper saw the situation, he marched out the door. He strode down the steps, around the corner and brought back the hose. The water was already on, so he put his thumb in front of the nozzle and a sharp burst of water began flying out. Training the stream of liquid on Dick's body, Jasper moved it side to side until the boy was completely mud and grass free.

It left Dick gasping in pain. The water was hard against his wounded torso and legs but there was nothing he could do. Jasper left him there to dry and Matilda sighed.

"Can't you do anything right, sweetie?" she murmured as she went inside and closed the door.

"Guess…not," Dick mumbled before drifting into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.