Title: My Richard. Part four

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and the other's deal with Laura's suicide attempt

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

My Richard

Part Four

Two days after Laura tried to kill herself it finally dawned on Bruce that Dick seemed upset about something. Alright, in truth he only noticed because Alfred pointed out the obvious to him. He was at a loss as to what to do about it.

He stood in the doorway to Dick's room, hesitating and unsure.

"Did you want something, Bruce?" Dick was lying on his bed, Sega gamepad in hand. The sounds of battle came from the TV.

Bruce came in, sat on the bed beside the boy—something he probably hadn't done since Dick was about ten. "Everything going alright?"

Dick looked over at him. Nope, he wasn't going to help Bruce out with this. Obviously Alfred had told him something was going on and ordered Bruce to talk to him about it. Well, deal with it, Bruce; he wasn't in a sharing mood right now.

"Fine."

"How's school coming along? Any problems?"

"School's fine."

Bruce nodded. "You see any of your friends lately?"

Dick shrugged. "Everyone's busy."

"How about Laura?"

Dick shrugged again. Ah, so that was the problem, a lover's spat. Well, that he could talk to the boy about. "Lady troubles?"

"I guess."

"You two have an argument?"

Dick nodded. "Sort of." He looked back at the TV screen. "I don't really want to talk about it, okay?"

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, other than the beeps and explosions of the game. "Did you two break up?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Could you just drop it, please?" Dick sat up, rolled off the bed. "I have homework." It was an obvious request to be left alone.

"We'll go out later, I'll be downstairs when you're ready." Maybe a patrol would take his mind off of his girl troubles.

"Okay. This shouldn't take that long."

Bruce left him to finish his homework, closing the door behind him. Going to the phone, Dick pushed the speed dial that got him to Laura's house. Her mother answered.

"Mrs. Woodward? It's D...Richard. Is Laura there, has she been released yet?"

"No, not yet, honey, the doctor's said this weekend if she seems up to it."

"Would it be alright if I went to visit her?"

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't think that would be a good idea right now. She's been upset and if she saw you..."

"Okay."

"Richard? How are you doing? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, I'm worried about you, and you do know that this isn't your fault, don't you? We all know that and I want you to know that it had nothing to do with you; you didn't do a thing wrong. You know that, right?"

"Well, yeah. Sure. Um, this weekend? Could I see her then?"

"Why don't you call on Saturday and we'll see where we are then, is that alright, sweetie?"

"Okay, I will. Thanks, Mrs. Woodward."

"You're welcome, honey."

In his room, semi settled down to his homework, which he wasn't concentrating on, Dick picked up his phone on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Richard? I'm so sorry. I really am so sorry. Can you talk to me for a few minutes?"

"Laura? I, I'm doing homework and I have to get it finished..."

"But I need to talk to you. Is that okay? I won't be long or anything. Okay?"

"I really have to do this..."

"Please? I know you're angry about that thing in school and I know you're mad because I came over to your place that night, but we're still boyfriend and girlfriend, aren't we?"

"Look, Laura..."

"Please say we are. Please?"

"I have to go."

"Richard, you said you'd talk to me. You said that you would...you promised."

"I can't right now. I have to..."

"If you don't talk to me I'll kill myself. I will. I swear to God that I will."

"Laura, don't say things like that."

"I will. I swear."

"I'm going to hang up now..."

"You can't. Richard, you can't hang up. There, I stopped shouting—I'm sorry I was yelling at you, but you can't hang up. We have to talk."

"I'll see you when you get out of there, I'll see you when you get home."

"I'm pregnant."

Jesus. "Laura, we haven't had sex."

"We did! We did!"

"Laura..."

"You said you loved me. You said you'd take care of me. You promised and now you're..."

"I have to go." He hung up on her. She was pregnant? Mother of God, he'd never even, he hadn't...all he'd done was feel her up and she'd given him that hand job a couple of weeks ago, that was it. They'd never done it, not even once.

God.

At the Woodward home, John looked up from his paper. "How did Richard sound?"

"He sounded upset and depressed. I would think that he's blaming himself for what happened, the poor thing."

He put down the paper. "I take it he doesn't know anything about last time, then, does he?"

"I don't think so." Lynn picked up her book; the evening patterns were firmly established. "Do you think we should tell him or Mr. Wayne?"

"With any luck this will be the end of it and the kids can either get back together or simply break up. I'm hoping Wayne doesn't have to know about this."

Lynn sipped the glass of wine she'd been nursing since dinner. "The man isn't stupid and neither is Richard. You know as well as I do that they may well find out sooner or later anyway. I think it would be a good idea if you just told him before he learns about it on his own."

"For God's sake, Lynn. If I do that I may be cutting my throat professionally."

"Why? Because your daughter had a problem?"

"Because our daughter has a problem which I didn't disclose when I applied for my job and which could compromise the reputation of the company I work for."

"That's ridiculous. Laura is a child who needs and is getting help, that's all. This is hardly national security we're talking about."

"Lynn..."

"Well, it isn't and don't you always quote that old cliché about the best defense being a good offense? I think you should talk to the man, as one father to another."

She was right and John knew it. Maybe if he did it the way she suggested, man to man instead of employee to boss, maybe that would work. "Do you know the number over at Wayne's place?" She dialed it herself and handed him the receiver.

"Mr. Wayne, please. John Woodward here...Thank you." He waited a minute while Wayne was summoned to the phone. Of course at that place it may have been brought to him on a silver tray.

"Mr. Woodward? Is there something I can do for you this evening?"

"I'm sorry to be bothering you like this, Mr. Wayne, but I was hoping that you might have a few minutes—at your convenience, of course. There are a couple of things I'm not sure if you're aware of about the kids."

"The kids? Dick and your daughter? Is there some sort of problem?"

"Would it be possible for us to get together? I'd really rather not discuss it over the phone."

There was a momentary hesitation, then, "Of course. Would you like to come over now? Or I could come to you if that would be easier."

Christ, Bruce Wayne was offering to hop in the Rolls and ride right over—what the hell was he thinking? On the other hand maybe it would go better on John's turf. He wouldn't be as intimidated by the whole manor thing. "I hate to put you out, sir."

"It's no trouble. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Well?" Lynn was looking at him.

"He'll be here in a minute."

"Oh, my God. What do you offer a billionaire when he drops in?"

"Velveeta on a Ritz?"

"Oh God, cheddar, at least."

Bruce got the directions from Alfred, not telling Dick that he was going out. He was there inside of fifteen minutes, the door opening as he parked the Jag in the driveway.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm sorry to bring you out like this, but thank you for coming. I think we'll be comfortable in the study."

It was a paneled room with a small fireplace. The colors were dark, the walls lined with mostly law books. There was a massive and very good desk, likely an heirloom or something along those lines. Lynn joined them after a couple of minutes, bringing a platter with imported cheese and those fancy Norwegian crackers, asking Bruce what he'd like to drink. A beer would be fine, thank you. She was back in a minute or so. Bruce was privately amused that all three had beer after he requested it. He suspected that if he suggested caviar or veal cordon bleu they'd agree that was just what they'd been thinking of.

It happened a lot, this awkwardness when people dealt with him. They were always intimidated by his position or his money. Sometimes he knew his voice alone was enough to throw cold water over any gathering and that he didn't exactly come across as warm to most people. Well, so be it. This wasn't a social call.

Taking a cracker to be polite, he started the conversation. "John—may I call you John?—I gather that there's a problem with Laura and Dick?" God, what could be the big deal here? The instant that thought went through his mind he immediately began to imagine what exactly the big deal could be, about a hundred possible big deals, in fact.

"I take it you hadn't heard anything about what's happened?"

"Something's happened?" He wasn't about to tell them that Dick had basically refused to talk to him.

John took a drink of his beer, thanking God that at least it was Heineken and not Bud. "A couple of days ago the kids had some kind of argument at school. I think it started in the cafeteria and then continued in the library. I'm not sure what it was about, but Laura was pretty upset when she got home. She called Richard and went over to your place. From what I've managed to get from her, she was invited for dinner. Evidently there was another argument, or maybe just a continuation of the original one, and the upshot was that they've broken up."

There had to be more going on than just a couple of high school kids deciding to call it quits. Bruce tried to lead the man on. "This sort of thing happens all the time. I'm sure they're both upset, but they'll get over it in a few days or a couple of weeks. In a month or two they'll both probably be seeing someone else if they don't get back together before then."

"Mr. Wayne, Laura swallowed three bottles of over the counter sleeping pills two nights ago. She was admitted to Saint Clare's around 10 pm and she's under observation there now."

Dear Lord. "Will she be alright?"

"Physically, yes, she'll be fine but our obvious concern is to find out what upset her so much."

"Of course. Do you think Dick may have said or done something to make her do this?"

"No, probably not. Not on purpose, anyway." Lynn paused, seeming to choose her words. "We've had this sort of problem before with Laura. You see, in her last school she had a crush on a boy. They went out a few times but then it sort of petered out. Laura had some trouble letting go."

That wasn't what Bruce wanted to hear. He could see where this was going. "She had a problem?"

The Woodward's exchanged looks. John answered. "She accused the boy, he was a senior, she said that he'd raped her."

"Had he?"

Another look passed between Laura's parents. "The psychologists said that she genuinely believed that he had. In her mind she wasn't lying, but the boy hadn't done anything."

Christ. "Are you suggesting that something similar may happen here?"

Lynn nodded. "I'm...we're afraid that it might. Yes. Since the kids have been going out Laura has felt so much better—she's been so much happier that she stopped taking her medication and she's seemed fine all this time. Then she, she took all those pills and last night Laura told her doctor that she's pregnant."

Christ. "And is she?"

"No, the test came back negative. It was even repeated and she's not pregnant. The problem is that she thinks that she is and she's convinced that Richard is the father."

"Have they been sleeping together, do you know?" Dick had that box of condoms—wasn't he using the damn things? He knew that Alfred had replaced the box at least once.

Both of the Woodward's indicated through gestures that they didn't really know. "They've spent a lot of time together, we all know that. They're not children anymore..."

Bruce broke in here. "Well, yes, in fact they are children. They may have passed puberty, but they're both still kids...would you mind if I got Dick over here? We're talking in the dark. I'd like to ask him exactly what he knows about all of this."

"Forgive me, Mr. Wayne, but are you sure you want to confront him with all of us here like this? Maybe you should talk to him privately."

"This involves your daughter as well as Dick. If he's done something he has to deal with the consequences, he knows that."

The Woodward's glanced at one another. They knew Wayne was a tough businessman, evidently he was a tough parent as well.

John turned the desk phone around so Bruce could reach it. "Alfred? Please bring Dick over to the Woodward's right away. We'd like to speak with him...No, right now. Thank you."

When Dick arrived he looked like he was walking into the Inquisition.

John Woodward took the initiative. "Richard, please have a seat and relax. No one thinks you've done anything wrong and no one is angry with you. We'd all just like to find out what's been going on."

Wayne looked like he was chewing glass. Dick knew how much he hated surprises like this and he'd even asked him directly is everything was alright. The boy should have told him about this, damnit. There'd be hell to pay later.

"Is Laura alright? Have you heard anything?" Sure he'd just talked with her, but she'd been upset and didn't seem all that clear on the lyrics. He meant that she'd seemed sort of out of it, distracted and vague.

Lynn gave him a sympathetic smile. "She's upset, Richard, but she'll be better in a few days." She handed him the glass of Coke she knew he usually had when he was over. She'd gotten it while they were waiting for his arrival. "Has Laura been in contact with you since this all started?"

"She called me last night and today there were some messages on my machine. I missed most of the calls because I was down in the gym but she got me after dinner. She seemed sort or, I don't know. She wasn't really herself." There was an understatement for you.

Bruce let the other parents do the talking; he just watched and studied the others. Dick may only be fifteen, but he was precocious both emotionally and physically. It was entirely possible that he and the girl had been experimenting with—things. It was also probable that he wouldn't confide something like that to either Alfred or himself. He might talk to Leslie, maybe, but that wasn't likely. Dick played a lot of things close to the chest.

If it involved something really personal, it was rare for him to want to discuss it with anyone. It was just his way and Bruce tried to respect that.

Maybe he should have asked, though.

John's voice broke into his thoughts. "Could you tell us what you two argued about? Maybe that would help us a little."

Dick shifted uncomfortably on the end of the couch. "She was jealous because I was talking to another girl but I wasn't hitting on her or anything. Marcia is just my lab partner. We were talking about class a few weeks ago and Laura got upset about it. I told her it was nothing, but she kept bringing it up. She also thinks I'm two timing her with an old friend of mine." He looked at Bruce. "Donna. I'm not, though. Donna's just a friend and she's dating someone else, anyway."

Lynn nodded at him, encouraging. "I'm sure you weren't doing anything wrong, Richard but we do have to ask you something—or maybe you'd rather ask him privately, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce looked at Dick. The boy knew what was coming. "Come into the next room with me." They got up and stood in the front entranceway. Dick was looking at the carpet. "You know what they want to know, don't you? Did you sleep with Laura, Dick?" The youngster hesitated, blushing, embarrassed. "I know you'd rather not tell me, but Laura is saying that you did and I need to know if it's true."

Eyes still on the rug he shook his head. "No, I didn't, we didn't. We fooled around some, but we never—you know. If she's pregnant, I had nothing to do with it."

"You give me your word on that?"

"Yes. I didn't sleep with her, Bruce. I, sure, I mean I wanted to but I didn't. I swear." He glanced back to the study. "Do you think they'll believe me?"

"I think so, yes. They seem to believe that it wasn't you who caused whatever is going on. No one is angry with you, Dick." He paused before he led Dick back into the Woodward's. "I think it would be a good idea if you thought about backing off from Laura when she gets home."

"Yeah, no shit." Bruce gave him a look worthy of Alfred. "Sorry."

The rest of the evening was basically more of the same. Dick was finally allowed to be driven back home by Alfred and he spent several hours checking supposedly sealed records about Laura's medical and legal history from the previous incident with the senior. There had been accusations of statutory rape. The charges were dropped after a couple of weeks and Laura had been sent to a facility specializing in delusional problems. She had attempted suicide three times in San Francisco, once with an attempted hanging, once when she slit her wrists and another time she OD'd. Each time she'd been sent to a pediatric mental facility for a month or so and then released. Her father applied for the job with Wayne Corp shortly after that and they left the state, relocating near Gotham. The hope was that a change of scene and a new start would help.

There were no other records of unusual behavior or any kind of lawsuits. There was no criminal record of any kind against any of the Woodward's, not even a speeding ticket.

Dick glanced up when he caught Bruce looking over his shoulder at the computer monitor. "This will probably be the end of it, Dick. She's getting help. Her parents told me that they think they've found her a good doctor and they expect her to be released this weekend. She'll continue with therapy and will likely be on medication, but they think this should take he pressure off both of you."

"Good." He got up, not believing a word of it. Laura was on his case right now—how the fuck could the doctors or nurses or whoever let her have constant access to a phone right now? "I'm tired, Bruce. Is it okay if I make it an early night?"

"No Robin?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure. Get some rest."

He couldn't tell Bruce about the calls. He'd freak in that cold, controlled way he had. He'd have Dick placed under twenty-four guard by the JLA or send him to Europe or something. Alfred would be upset about everything, the household would be turned upside down and all because he had an insane girlfriend.

It was just girlfriend problems—okay, maybe weirder than most, but Bruce had enough on his mind between business and being the Bat to not need this added to it. And Alfred—he couldn't do this to Alf. He couldn't.

He was Robin, damnit. He could handle this.

When he got up to his room the phone was ringing.

"Richard? I'm so glad you're there. You're not mad, are you? I couldn't stand it if you were mad at me."

"I'm not mad, Laura, I'm just really tired. I need to get some sleep, okay?"

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. You sleep, alright? I'll sleep too and it will almost be like we're sleeping together. Good night...I'll call you tomorrow and it will be like we're waking up together. I love you."

Alfred came in with a mug of hot chocolate. "Everything taken care of then. Master Dick? Is the young lady getting over her distress?"

"Everything's fine, Alf."

Alfred almost gave him a look—almost because this was Alfred and he'd never intrude, but he came close and Dick was made more than aware that the old man didn't believe a word of it.

"Hey, Alf? It's okay." Dick gave him a look he hoped was reassuring and to which Alfred just nodded in acknowledgement before closing the door behind him. As he walked down the corridor he heard Dick's private line ringing again.

TBC

18