Note: As always, thanks to the amazing Rollerparty for your comments!
Greg Makov, deciding that was all he would get today, finally left. Dick reluctantly went inside. Jasper and Matilda were waiting, arms folded across their chests and bodies tense.
"What did you say?" Jasper demanded.
"That everything was fine, sir. And that you helped me learn to make scrambled eggs and that I got to play in the hose."
"What else?"
"That's all, sir. He asked if I had anything else to say and I said everything was fine."
"Good," Jasper stated with a nod. "To the basement," he commanded.
"May I eat, sir?" Dick asked.
"Hon, why are you talking?" Matilda asked with a sigh. "Have you still not learned that lesson?"
"No, I mean, yes, I'm sorry, ma'am!" Dick instantly exclaimed.
"Just go to the basement," Jasper growled. "You can stay there for today and spend the day under the porch tomorrow. You really are an idiot, aren't you?"
Dick stayed silent.
"I asked you a question!" Jasper shouted.
"Yes, sir."
"Yes to what?!"
"Um, yes, I'm an idiot, sir."
"Off you go, Dick," Matilda said. "But I will send down something to eat. We can't have you starving to death."
Dick slowly began walking toward the basement, every step causing pain to ripple around his body.
"What are you, a snail?" Jasper snarled.
He smacked the boy hard on the bottom and Dick moved faster than he thought he could. When he reached the basement door, he opened it and hesitated. It was so dark.
"DANG IT, KID, JUST OBEY!" Jasper roared.
Dick shuddered with fear and took a step down. He heard the now-very-familiar 'snap' of the belt and rushed down the stairs so quickly that he tripped himself on the third step. The boy tumbled to the ground and felt a 'pop' in his right hamstring. The door slammed, leaving him in complete darkness, and he heard the 'click' of a lock.
The ten-year-old laid on the cold floor on his stomach and, once again, allowed the tears to freely flow onto the ground. Five minutes later the door opened and Matilda came halfway down the stairs. She bent over then turned around and left.
Matilda had said the word 'eat' so Dick forced himself to crawl to the stairs. There was a banana and a ham sandwich and a large bottle of water. Staying on his knees, the boy ate everything within ten minutes, drinking half the water and saving the rest for later. The basement floor was cold and his body was still hot, so Dick laid down again. It was going to be another long day, but at least he was inside and his stomach was mostly full.
The Batcave:
"Jasper and Matilda Dunston, ages fifty-seven and fifty-five, respectively. No children, no pets, no arrests, not even a parking or speeding ticket," Batman growled as he flipped through several pages that he had received from the Bat-computer. "The perfect 'nice family' for foster children."
"From the social services records, I have them listed as foster parents for eleven – now twelve – children at various times. Never more than one at a time and all teenagers. Master Dick is the youngest one to be placed with them, sir."
"How old is the next youngest?"
"Fourteen, Master Batman."
"That's a big age difference."
"Indeed, sir."
"One car, registered in both names, house completely paid off – unusual for a couple in their fifties – one checking account and one savings account. Less than one hundred dollars in checking and the minimum twenty-five dollars in savings."
"You…checked their bank accounts, Master Batman?!"
"Of course! I have to find out what's going on so I need all the background information I can get. They've never owed on taxes, Jasper had his own business for a while but is now on unemployment. Matilda is on disability, something about an accident in a factory."
"How does a couple with so few assets have the resources to foster children throughout most of their adult lives, sir?"
"Well, they get money from the state for fostering. Maybe that keeps them afloat."
"Perhaps that's the only thing, sir. Perhaps they live check to check until Mr. Makov gives them a child. And perhaps, sir, the Dunstons are his go-to couple in an emergency."
"Why in an emergency, Alfred?"
"Don't you think, Master Batman, that a social worker would want the children in his care closer to his office? The Dunstons are almost an hour away. But if there is no room in any childrens' homes, I highly doubt that Mr. Makov would place a child in the detention center, sir. He does not strike me as an uncaring man."
"I thought about that earlier," Batman agreed. "You're right, maybe there was no room anywhere else and Greg was nice enough not to send Dick to the detention center."
There was a long pause as both men pondered what they had learned so far.
"It's a nice street, Alfred, and a quiet neighborhood. I looked at the crime reports and there has never been any type of call to the police or fire department or anything."
"Then you will have no excuse for being there, sir, making your actions suspicious. Therefore, we shall make something happen."
"What?" Batman asked, surprise in his tone. "How?"
"That is something we need to figure out before sundown, sir, so that we can make it happen tonight."
Dunston's house:
Dick spent the entire day in the basement. The door was flung open at seven o'clock and Jasper yelled at him to get upstairs. Dick was sleepy, and shaky from lack of food and water, and his muscles were cramped. His back was on fire; in fact, the ten-year-old had decided that his skin was falling off. Every movement made his shirt sweep across the raw welts and sent waves of pain throughout his torso.
But Jasper was yelling and Dick wasn't about to disobey. He clambered up the steps as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast. Jasper was impatient and the boy was terrified by the time he reached the top of the stairs.
"Time for dinner," Jasper snarled, putting his hand on Dick's back and shoving him toward the kitchen.
"There's something going on, Jasper," Matilda whispered as the man and the boy entered the room. "The police are across the street and look," she pointed out the window, "the Bat-signal is on!"
"Well, we should all be on our best behavior then, right Dick?" Jasper growled.
"Yes, sir," the ten-year-old whispered.
"Sit down and eat your dinner, sweetie," Matilda stated.
She turned to the stove and Dick obediently sat down. There were boiled carrots and thin slices of ham and Matilda was now placing a steaming hot slice of bread on Dick's plate.
He almost said 'thank you' but immediately stopped himself. Matilda hadn't said anything so he shouldn't, either.
"What do you say when somebody gives you something, sweetie?" she asked as she put the plate of bread in the middle of the table.
"Thank you, ma'am," he murmured.
"Very good, now dig in."
Carrots were his least favorite vegetable but he ate them all. His stomach had been yelling at him all day so he didn't care what kind of food it was, he only cared that it was food. And that he was allowed to eat it. Dick thought about the past few days and tried to count how many times he had been able to eat. Not many, obviously, but he couldn't remember exactly. At least four? Maybe five? Did it really matter, though, since he still had another eleven days in this place? All that mattered right now was getting food in his stomach.
"Dick, slow down, you're going to choke!" Jasper commanded. "You're acting like we don't even feed you!"
The boy wanted to argue the point but wisely kept his mouth shut. He began taking smaller bites and chewing slowly.
"What do you want to do after dinner?" Matilda asked.
Dick's eyes widened in surprise. He had a…choice?!
"Um, read?"
"Well, we have plenty of books to choose from," the woman stated. "Just do the dishes first, it's your turn, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," Dick replied, wondering why she was giving him a choice.
The doorbell rang and Dick nearly jumped out of his chair.
"To your room," Matilda whispered as she and Jasper stood up.
Dick nodded and walked to his room as quickly as he could. He heard the door open and Jasper say something that sounded like 'officer'. Then there were footsteps coming down the hall. The ten-year-old didn't want to get in trouble, which would probably happen if whoever it was had a chance to talk to him. So, he carefully laid on his stomach with his face turned away from the door.
The door creaked open and a shadow fell across Dick's body. The shadow had several accessory shadows, placed in strategic areas. It was a police officer and now Dick was really nervous. He could tell the man was coming toward him so he shut his eyes and forced his breathing to even out.
"See, Officer, he's asleep," Matilda whispered. "He's only ten and it's nearly eight o'clock. We had a lot of fun today, we're all tired."
"Well, I just received a call about…"
Dick didn't hear the rest because the door closed and the footsteps faded away so he opened his eyes. Several seconds later he heard a familiar voice, one that made his heart both leap with joy and thump in fear. Batman was here. And Batman would know that he was awake but there was no way for Dick to try to tell him anything without Jasper or Matilda noticing it.
The door creaked open again and another shadow fell across his body. This shadow was connected to a billowing shadow and had a commanding presence. Dick could feel the difference between a police officer and Batman. He quickly shut his eyes again.
"Fast asleep," Matilda whispered.
There was complete silence and then the air around him moved. Dick could feel the hero staring at him. If only he could say or do something. But he was worried that someone else was with Batman, watching the boy's every move. So he kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady. He was strong; he could get through this. Bruce and Alfred and Batman were waiting for him on the other side of this nightmare and he was going to stay strong.
They had figured it out. After searching using several different pieces of criteria, Batman and Alfred had discovered that the house directly across the street from the Dunston's was vacant. It was for sale and had been empty for months.
Mr. Freeze wasn't in prison and hadn't been seen in Gotham City recently. So, they chose him as their villain. At precisely five o'clock, dinner time for most people, Alfred pulled into the shadows near the back of the vacant house. He quietly entered the, surprisingly, unlocked back door and placed weapons throughout the main living area.
Batman didn't have a freeze ray, or even a replica of one, so they went with what they had: a few handguns that would obviously be used by henchmen and several large blocks of ice from the Instant-Block-Ice-Maker machine.
Alfred returned to his car, climbed in, and pulled out his Bat-communicator.
"It's done, sir, make the call," he whispered.
Starting the car, Alfred drove out the opposite way he had come in. It gave him a chance to peer in the front window of the Dunston's home. There was no small head of dark hair but it was dinner time so they were probably in the kitchen.
From the Batcave, Batman picked up the Manor phone and called the emergency line.
"Gotham City Dispatch, what is your emergency?"
"There are several men with weapons roaming through the empty house diagonally across the street from me," Batman stated, whispering in a tone that he hoped sounded frantic. "They've been there all day and there's some guy in a white suit who…he just shot something and froze it solid!"
"What is your location, sir?"
"Blackmoor Road, outside the city limits. He just did it again!"
"We'll take care of it, sir."
But Batman had already hung up and was striding to the Batmobile. Climbing in, he drove out of the tunnel and waited.
The dispatcher called the police and the officer at the desk, when he heard the description of the man, sent the call straight to Commissioner Gordon's office. The commissioner immediately used the Batphone but nobody answered. He nodded to Chief O'Hara, who rushed to the roof and turned on the Bat-signal.
And there it was. Batman waited one long minute then picked up the Batphone extension in the Batmobile.
"Batman, thank heavens!" the commissioner exclaimed. "Mr. Freeze has returned to Gotham City! He's holed up in an empty house on Blackmoor Road, just outside the city limits!"
"On my way, Commissioner."
Batman began driving and counted to seven. As soon as he said 'seven' the Bat-signal flickered then disappeared. With a slight grin – Dick had figured that one out – the Caped Crusader headed toward the vacant house across the street from where his ward was currently living.
He spent nearly ten minutes there, examining the weaponry and fiddling with the melting blocks of ice. Then, glancing at his Bat-watch, he suggested a search of the neighborhood. It was seven-thirty; Dick should be done with dinner and playing or reading or something that would make him visible to Batman.
Several policemen headed down the street but Officer Brown went straight across. Batman, of course, chose to follow him. He waited in the shadows just outside the house while the officer went inside. Brown came out only three minutes later, saying everything looked fine.
Batman glared at him – three minutes was not long enough for a thorough search – and strode inside the house. He was met by a wide-eyed man and blushing woman. The hero asked if they would allow him to conduct a more thorough search. Mr. Freeze, after all, was a villain that he was used to looking for but Officer Brown, as a newcomer to Gotham City, was not. The man nodded and the woman led the way.
She stopped at their bedroom and Batman went through the entire room quickly, but not so fast that they would suspect anything. He did notice a phone sitting on a table by the bed and filed that information away in the back of his mind.
As she led him to the laundry room, the woman said her name was Matilda and her husband was Jasper. Batman nodded and quickly perused the area. There was no space for anything but a washer and dryer.
"Do you mind walking a little softer?" Matilda asked timidly. "We have a boy sleeping in the next room."
"Of course," Batman responded with a slight glare that she didn't even notice.
Matilda carefully opened the creaky door and Batman stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the lack of furniture. Dick was sleeping on a strip of material with a tiny lump that was supposed to resemble a pillow. And he was fully clothed, which was unusual. Dick liked loose pajamas when he went to sleep, not a pair of wrinkled pants with an equally wrinkled shirt.
"Fast asleep," Matilda whispered.
Batman studied the motionless body. Dick's breathing was steady and he looked completely relaxed. But the hero could tell that the boy wasn't 'fast' asleep. Falling asleep, maybe, but not there yet.
So, Batman strode to the other side and crouched down. A patch of moonlight fell across Dick's face. His hair was covering his eyes and his lips were parted slightly.
"Please don't wake him," Matilda requested quietly. "He's a growing boy who needs his rest."
Batman nodded but continued to stare at the ten-year-old, looking for any sign of distress. Or even an unusual twitch. But Dick's face was peaceful and his breathing never wavered. The hero wanted to wipe the dark bangs out of the way so he could watch the boy's eyelids. However, that wasn't something Batman would take the time to do because Batman was supposed to be searching for Mr. Freeze.
"Why are you so interested in him?" Matilda inquired softly. "He's obviously not whatever criminal you're searching for, right?"
Standing up, a frustrated Batman nodded again and strode out the door. Dick waited until he heard the front door close before he dared to open his eyes. Jasper was sitting right beside him, a grin on his face.
"That was a very good choice, Dick," the man said proudly. "We never said anything about pretending to sleep if someone wanted to see you. I'm very impressed."
Dick didn't speak or move. Two seconds later, Matilda walked in the room.
"What a good boy you are, sweetie. Even Batman thought you were fast asleep!"
"Time to get up," Jasper stated.
Dick's brow furrowed in confusion. It was past his bedtime so why did they want him to get up?
Chuckling at the look, Jasper said, "One good choice doesn't erase all the bad ones, Dick. You still get to sleep in the basement every night. And you'll resume all your normal duties tomorrow. I expect a good breakfast at seven o'clock."
Matilda grabbed Dick's left arm and pulled. Dick flinched; the bullet wound was still slightly tender. He quickly stood up and she marched him to the basement door.
"Go on, hon," she said as she opened the door. "And try to make something besides eggs tomorrow. I'm tired of them."
Dick slowly walked down the stairs. Matilda immediately closed the door and he was left in darkness before he even made it to the bottom. He knelt down and crawled around the perimeter. The object he was searching for wasn't there so he moved methodically inward as he crawled until he found it: the alarm clock.
The ten-year-old had no ideas for breakfast. He didn't even know how to make eggs any other way. Dick started to sit down and lean against the wall but thought better of it. Carefully, he laid on his stomach again and began wracking his brain, trying to think of something different so he wouldn't get in trouble. It was going to be another long night.