The next day:
It started out like any other Saturday. Bruce was already at the table, reading the newspaper, by the time Dick came downstairs. This time, however, the man put the paper down and motioned to the boy. The nine-year-old obediently went to the chair by his guardian and slowly sat down.
"I watched the videos from every single school security camera last night."
"You can do that?!" Dick exclaimed, thoroughly impressed and anxiously excited. Video tapes don't lie so the boy knew he was about to be exonerated.
"I do have some…special…machines," Bruce replied with a slight grin which immediately disappeared. "Anyway, the evidence on the tape is not too good for you. Every time there's a fight, you're in the middle of it. I don't know if you start it," the man's voice hardened, "but you're always there."
Dick's mouth dropped open in shock. He had no idea how this was possible. The only fight he'd been in was the one with whats-his-name after PE, and that wasn't even a fight!
"I…Bruce, that's not possible! I've never…you really think…"
"The evidence is irrefutable. Security tapes don't lie, Dick."
"I…don't know what to say."
"How about if you tell me the truth?!" the man shouted.
The boy flinched and slumped in his chair.
"I already did," he whispered sadly. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I've never fought anyone but I can't prove it so just punish me now. Whatever you're going to do, I can take it. I've been through worse."
"What do you think I'm going to do?" Bruce asked, fury evident in his tone.
"I don't know. I'm pretty sure you won't beat me up but maybe that's what you think I deserve."
Tears were sliding down the nine-year-old's cheeks and he wasn't doing anything to stop them. He had no control over what was about to happen, and that scared him, but he would just have to deal with it. There was no other choice.
"Dick, I would never hit you," Bruce stated and this time his tone was full of surprise.
"Well, everyone else does so I'm used to it. Oh, wait, everyone does because I bully them into it."
The last sentence was full of sarcasm and accompanied by a hand swiping the tears off his young face.
"I can't believe you're going to stick with that story. After all the evidence I saw on the tapes, you're still going to tell me that you're the innocent one in all of this?!"
"Just get it over with," Dick shouted. "Whatever it is you're going to do, just do it!"
The loud sound caused Alfred to rush into the room, just as he had yesterday.
"Master Bruce!" he exclaimed and the man glanced at him before turning his gaze back to Dick.
"Master Dick?" the butler asked quietly.
"It's over, Alfred. Nobody will ever believe me."
Alfred stared at the boy in shock before giving his older charge a slight glare.
"Have you tried the…other…cameras, sir?"
"I don't have any there yet, Alfred," Bruce growled. "But the school's security tapes show me everything I need to know."
"Well, sir, before you do something you'll regret, maybe you should add some at the school. Perhaps their security tapes have a way of being altered?"
"I doubt it. Who would have the technology to do that? Besides me, of course."
Turning back toward the kitchen, Alfred stated coldly, "I hope you know what you're doing, Master Bruce."
Bruce sighed then glared at Dick. "What do you think I should do?"
"To punish me? I don't know, you're the adult," the boy replied snidely.
"Is that the kind of attitude you display at school, young man?" Bruce growled again.
"No, but you won't believe that. You think I'm some kind of monster who can't control himself. Maybe you should just beat me to a pulp."
Shaking his head in exasperation, the man stated, "I already said that I would never hit you."
"Well," the nine-year-old stated quietly, "you're beating me up inside so why not let it show on the outside?"
Bruce was surprised again. That was a deep thought, something he would never expect from a child.
"In your room for today, Dick. I'll figure something out and let you know later."
Nodding his head, the boy stood up and started toward the stairs.
"Breakfast first," the man commanded but Dick shook his head and raced away.
This time it was Bruce who slumped in his chair. Maybe he should put some Bat-cameras around the school. But, now that he knew the truth, Dick probably wouldn't be starting fights anymore. For a little while, at least.
"What will you lose if you put up those Bat-cameras, sir?" Alfred's soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Nothing. But if you don't and later learn that you were wrong? You have a lot to lose then, sir. The trust of a child who is hurting both physically and emotionally, the light that he brings to this house, his happiness…a lot, Master Bruce."
The butler began clearing the table and Bruce stood up. Alfred was right; putting Bat-cameras around the school wouldn't hurt anything.
Monday morning – Gotham Elementary
Dick arrived early to school, just as his teacher had commanded. His eyes stayed on the floor and his heart was beating rapidly. What was going to happen this time?
"You know why you're here?" Mr. Jerkins snarled as the boy closed the door.
Nodding, Dick walked over to the teacher's desk and placed his backpack on the floor.
"How?" he whispered bravely.
"How what?" the man growled.
"How did you alter the tapes? I'm not a bully!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Mr. Jerkins folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the small child in front of him. The boy was shaking and sniffling and his hands were clenched into fists.
"I'm going to explain your anger and disobedience to your guardian tomorrow. He won't want you anymore."
"Then why give me all those notes praising my behavior and work?"
"Why would I want Bruce Wayne to know anything about our little conferences? I have to admit that you're intelligent and your apparent inability to remain engaged doesn't affect your work or anyone around you. Therefore, the notes."
"What are you going to…to do?" Dick whispered, fear evident in his quiet voice.
"Nothing, for today. Apparently your guardian now knows that you fight everyone in sight so he's going to think that you'll stop since he knows the 'truth'. But after I talk to him tomorrow afternoon, he'll toss you out of his house. Nobody else will want a circus freak so you'll either be on the streets or in the detention center. Either way, the punishment will fit the crime."
"But I haven't done anything wrong!" Dick shouted as he lifted his head. Glaring into the surprised eyes of his teacher, the boy yelled, "I come to school, I stay quiet about you, I let kids do whatever they want to me. What have I done that's even a little bit wrong?!"
"First of all," Mr. Jerkins snarled, "shut up. Second, you're here. That's what you've done wrong. You should have stayed with the stupid circus when your parents died but I guess they didn't want you either!"
"You shut up!" Dick snarled back and was rewarded with a large hand smacking him across the right side of his face.
The momentum shoved him sideways and he hit the left side of his head on a desk. Blood spurted from the wound and the man tossed a box of tissues at Dick.
"Clean yourself up then go to the principal's office. Poor Johnny almost got beat up today because little Dick got mad."
Tears mingled with the blood but the nine-year-old grabbed some tissues and pushed them hard against his head. He could feel his right cheek swelling and soon he couldn't see out of his right eye.
"Go!" the man suddenly demanded.
Scrambling to his feet, Dick grabbed his backpack and raced out the door. In the right-hand corner of the ceiling in the classroom, a small Bat-camera sent the video of the altercation back to the Batcave, where the Bat-camera receiver machine beeped loudly.
Bruce Wayne, unfortunately, had a morning full of meetings but was able to return to the Manor for lunch. The first place he went was the Batcave and he immediately noticed the red dot blinking on the Bat-camera receiver machine. Quickly striding over, he pressed rewind and then, with trepidation in his eyes, played the tape.
Batman heard every word, saw every action and when it was over he punched the table in frustration. He had been wrong. Somehow somebody had altered the school tapes but he had believed them over the word of the boy who had never lied to him. Dick had hidden some injuries, yes, but had never outright lied to his guardian.
Racing back to his Bat-pole, Batman flew up to the Manor and ran to the kitchen.
"Is Dick home?!" he yelled somewhat breathlessly when he saw Alfred near the stove.
"No, Master Bruce, why would he be here? School doesn't end for three more hours."
"I was wrong, Alfred," Bruce whispered in despair. "There is now a Bat-camera in Dick's classroom and what I saw…"
He trailed off as the entire video replayed in his mind. The fear that was followed by defiance, the blood and tears, the eye that had already swollen shut, the threats about being thrown out and nobody wanting the boy.
"It was that bad, sir?" Alfred inquired quietly.
"Worse," Bruce responded, the word full of anguish. "He's completely innocent, Alfred, but I blamed him! He's always been honest with us but I didn't care. The evidence against him was perfect but it was wrong! And he was just going to accept whatever punishment I decided to give him! What was I thinking?!"
"You weren't, sir," the faithful butler remarked angrily. "Forgive me if I'm crossing boundaries, but the Bat-cameras should have been placed before you just accused him of everything."
"You're right," the younger man agreed quietly. "He's never going to trust me again. I'm an idiot, Alfred."
"Yes, Master Bruce, you are," Alfred stated before opening the oven to check the chicken he was roasting for dinner. "You have," the butler glanced at his watch, "a little over two and a half hours to figure out how to fix this. Lunch is on the table."
The last sentence was obviously a dismissal and Bruce, even though he was supposed to be the one in charge, obeyed his butler and left the kitchen.
Monday afternoon:
Dick silently opened the front door and peeked his head through. Nobody was around so he slid through the opening and sprinted up the stairs. His hair was full of dried blood and the right side of his face was numb but he wasn't going to let anybody see it.
Bruce, however, was already in Dick's room. The boy shoved the door open and dropped his backpack on the floor. He was on his way to the bathroom when he heard a quiet noise, like someone clearing their throat.
The nine-year-old glanced to his left and noticed a figure sitting in the shadows. Dropping his head, Dick faced the silhouette and waited for the lecture he was sure was coming.
"I saw the whole thing," Bruce stated quietly, his tone tinged with shame. "I put a Bat-camera," that word was whispered, "in your classroom. I saw…everything."
The man choked on the last word and the boy crumpled to the ground. Was 'everything' actually everything? Had Bruce been able to hear Dick yelling at a teacher? His guardian was probably upset about that. Dick hadn't been punished yet but his body tensed in anticipation. Bruce was disappointed, of that Dick was positive.
"I shouldn't have yelled at him," the boy declared. "I'll apologize tomorrow."
"What?!" Bruce shouted in disbelief.
Lifting his head, Dick stated, "I'm sorry for yelling. I shouldn't disrespect a teacher like that. I…you'll probably hear about it at teacher conference tomorrow. Sorry."
The last word was full of sadness and Bruce's heart constricted in pain. The child, after all of the trauma in his young life, shouldn't have to apologize. But here he was, expressing regret for yelling at someone who had then slapped him so hard that the boy's face looked like a plum speckled with small bits of blueberries. Not to mention the eye that wouldn't open and the dried river of blood that was matting his hair.
"It's not your fault, kiddo. I saw what he did…what he said. I will be suing him and Batman will be talking to him. The one apologizing should be me. The school's security videos, somehow, were compromised. But I believed what I thought was hard evidence over the word of a boy who has never lied to me. I'm sorry, Dick."
"It doesn't matter now. Mr. Mercer is going to kick me out of the school because I 'fought' with Johnny. The only other place is…"
"The detention center," Bruce finished quietly. He received a small nod and felt anger begin to rise in his chest.
"It's not going to happen, kiddo. Batman has proof now, too. And Bat-camera videos are impossible to alter. Commissioner Gordon knows it and tonight he will be watching the video from this morning."
"You're going to show other people?!" Dick gasped, despair filling his voice.
"It's proof of criminal activity! Of course I'm going to show the commissioner! This guy is a criminal who needs to go to jail."
"Something's going to happen, Bruce, if you do that. Mr. Jerkins has a brother. If Mr. Jerkins the teacher goes to jail, then Mr. Jerkins the janitor will do something."
Dick's tone was full of fear and Bruce could hear the warning that outlined the words.
"The janitor can't do that. He has an anklet and a camera and will go straight back to the State Pen if he does anything wrong."
"And who do you think has the key to the anklet and the ability to remove the watch with the camera?"
The dark-blue eyes of Bruce Wayne widened as the statement registered.
"Yep," Dick nodded, supplying the obvious answer, "Mr. Mercer. And who do you think will take the blame for sending one of the best teachers in the school off to jail? It won't be Batman, Bruce, I can tell you that."
"But it will be Batman's fault that he's arrested!" Bruce protested.
"True, but who started the process? Who told somebody about the bruises and other injuries? Again, it wasn't Batman."
"Nothing is going to happen, kiddo," the man stated confidently.
"How can you be sure?" the boy replied timidly.
Silence reigned, but only for a few moments.
"You just won't go to school. I'll get you a tutor. You're ahead in all the subjects anyway. Perfect solution."
Dick, still sitting on the ground, slowly stood up.
"I, uh, need to take care of this."
The nine-year-old motioned to his head, which was darker than normal because of the dried blood. Bruce nodded and Dick turned toward the bathroom. Suddenly the man was beside him, startling the boy.
"I'll help," Bruce stated.
"Um, no thanks," Dick replied. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
The man was surprised but quickly realized why his offer hadn't been accepted. His ward didn't trust him anymore, maybe never would again. Running a hand through his hair, Bruce turned away and strode out the door. Dick was going to need ice for that eye.
Twenty minutes later:
Dick still hadn't come down for dinner. Alfred had called him seven minutes ago and Bruce was concerned. The boy wouldn't try to run again. Not after the man had apologized and, he thought, allayed the child's fears of repercussions.
"Perhaps I should take a tray up, Master Bruce?"
"What? Oh, yes, put it on a tray. I'll take it up, though."
"As you wish, sir."
Alfred retrieved a tray from the kitchen and placed Dick's dinner on it. He picked it up and handed it to Bruce, who left the dining room and began climbing the stairs. Thirty seconds later he was at Dick's door, knocking hesitantly. There was no answer, so the man knocked a little louder.
"Come in."
The words were so quiet that Bruce almost didn't hear them. He opened the door and walked inside. Dick was sitting on the bed, his face pale and a towel pushed against the left side of his head. Several other towels, red instead of their usual white, surrounded him.
"I can't get it to stop," the boy murmured. "I don't know how it started bleeding again but no matter what I do it won't stop."
There was a tinge of panic in Dick's trembling voice. Bruce dropped the tray and was instantly by the child's side.
"Let me look, kiddo."
Wide, light-blue eyes stared at him and Bruce winced inside. They weren't full of trust, it looked more like betrayal and suspicion.
"Please?"
Slowly, Dick took the towel off his head. The blood was a stream, not just a dribble, and Bruce briefly thought about taking him to the hospital. But Alfred had blood in the Batcave; hopefully they had Dick's type.
"I'm…sleepy, Bruce. Isn't that, um, bad?"
"Why didn't you call me up, or answer Alfred when he called you for dinner? Either one of us could have helped you."
Dick shrugged as his light-blue eyes glazed over. Scooping his ward up, Bruce raced down the stairs and yelled for Alfred. The butler immediately came out of the kitchen and, when he saw the situation, hurried to the service elevator. Bruce joined him and they descended to the Batcave. It felt like much longer than the seventeen seconds it actually took and both men were relieved when the door slowly slid open.
"Blood type, sir?"
"I don't know but we have O negative, right?"
"Not very much, sir. It might be enough, though, since his body is so small."
The men efficiently set everything up and soon a thin stream of blood was gliding into Dick's body. Bruce pressed Bat-gauze against the wound and it stopped bleeding less than a minute later. Alfred immediately stitched the injury and now they had to wait.
The glazed, light-blue circles had disappeared completely on the way to the Batcave. Dick's pale face made the new bruise stand out prominently and even the older one seemed darker than it was.
But the boy's body was strong and two minutes later he opened his eyes. He tried to sit up but both men gently held him in place. Dick stared up at them in confusion and then a little bit of fear. Why was he so tired and why were they forcing him to remain still?
"Your head wound caused you to lose a lot of blood," Bruce stated when he saw the emotions. "We're in the Batcave and you're receiving a blood transfusion."
"Okay," Dick whispered before closing his eyes again.
Alfred went to the Bat-freezer and returned with a small pack of Bat-ice. Bruce had a Bat-towel and was cleaning the boy's head.
"My fault, Alfred."
"Yes, it is, Master Bruce," Alfred agreed as he placed the Bat-ice on Dick's swollen eye. "Also, I'm sure I have crossed many boundaries these last two days but they are lines that I deemed necessary to traverse."
With a small wave of his hand, Bruce dismissed the comment. His butler had no need to apologize and both men knew it.
"I'm going to change and take the tape from the Bat-camera to Commissioner Gordon. Tomorrow morning, Batman will pay a visit to Mr. Jerkins and Bruce Wayne will talk to him at teacher conference in the afternoon."
Bruce paused for a moment and then continued, "Take good care of him, Alfred."
"Just as I always do you, sir," the butler replied with a soft smile.