Title: In Another Land Part Ten
Author: Simon
Pairing: Dick
Rating: PG-13
Summary: An AU look at what might have happened if Bruce hadn't taken Dick in.
Warnings: None
Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.
Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.
Feedback: Hell, yes.
Thank you, Jim.
In Another Land
Part TenIt was strange knowing that Bruce Wayne was the Bat when probably almost no one else knew. And that Wayne didn't know he knew made it even more odd.
It was a big secret, one of the biggest in fact, and he'd figured it out. And if he knew then who else knew? Somebody had to. They must.
That old guy, Alfred? Sure, he had to know.
The Chief of Police in town? Maybe, but probably not. Crest Hill was too small for someone like Batman to let a small town cop in on the deep dark.
Besides, Batman worked out of Gotham—Wayne Enterprises had its headquarters there. Well, sure, that would make sense. So the Chief of Police in Gotham might know. Maybe. And what about the other heroes? Superman? Wonder Woman?—now she was hot. And the whole Justice League, wasn't Batman a member, or so the rumor went? They would probably all know who he was.
What about that kid group, the Teen Titans that had been in the news on and off the last couple of years? They might know something because some of them had connections to the Justice Leaguers. Sure, some of them might know something.
God, this was weird. Knowing was bizarre and it might mean his ass if anyone found out that he knew this. No writing this in his journal or telling his shrink, that was for damn sure. And how was he going to walk into Wayne's place on Saturday to help out the old guy and not let on? No one on the planet could keep that straight a face, no one. Impossible.
And when Wayne found out that he knew—which he would—then what would happen?
Would he and Bonnie be thrown out of the house to get rid of them? Would they be given the house to shut them up? Maybe they'd be offered whatever the super hero equivalent to the witness protection program was to make sure no one else ever found out. Maybe they'd be moved to Fiji or Atlantis or the moon.
Maybe they'd just be killed to really make sure they never talked to anyone about it.
"Dick? Honey? You need to get moving if you're going to the gym this morning." Bonnie knocked lightly at his door, opening it and standing there looking at him on his bed. "I'm glad you had a good time at the party."
"It was fine."
"You were home early, everything alright?"
"Everything's fine, Mom. I'm good." This was lame; he had to talk to her about something. He couldn't talk to her about this. "It was okay, I was just tired from school and the gym all day so I decided to come home, that's all."
She came over and sat on the bed. "Well, who was there? Any of your friends?"
He nodded. Small talk, good. He could do small talk. "The usual; Christian, Phil, Sarah, a few others. You know, the usual."
"Did something happen? You seem a—little tense. There weren't any, you know, there weren't any drugs there, were there?"
"I didn't have any, don't worry."
"Dick...?"
"I was offered some coke and I turned it down, no big deal."
"...No big deal? My God..."
"I told you that I turned it down, alright? Do you want to test me again?" He was being obnoxious and he knew it, but damnit—he didn't want to be having this conversation right now. He had other things on his mind. "It happens, Mom. I didn't take anything. I didn't even drink—all I had was soda, I swear. I was just tired, that's why I came back early."
She was looking at his eyes. He knew she was looking for signs he was still high and God knew she'd seen it enough to know what she was looking for but he really was clean—at least this time. In fact he'd been clean since he got back from Hazelton and he had every intention of staying that way from now on. He really did. He'd had enough of that crap—he had other things to do, no matter what the current opinion of him seemed to be.
"Well, alright." She seemed hesitant. "If you're sure—I'll start breakfast while you take a shower, honey." She started out and had his door half closed when she stuck her head back in. "I forgot to tell you, Alfred called while you were out. He wanted to know if you could go over there today, they have some things for you to do."
Jesus.
"Dick? Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, sure, but I told Sergei I'd help with the kids—he has that meet with the gym in the city coming up and the lower levels are going—some of the kids will be having their first competitions and they're nervous, so he asked me to help them." God, he was babbling.
"Well, call him, at least, will you?"
"I will."
"Don't forget."
"Mom."
"Alright, sorry. Get cleaned up, sweetie."
"Wayne residence."
"Alfred? It's Dick. You wanted me to come over today? I'm really sorry, but I have to work. Maybe next week, if that's okay with you."
"Oh dear, Master Bruce was somewhat anxious to have you here this afternoon. Might there be any way that it could be arranged? Perhaps if I were to come get you? I'd be more than happy to provide transportation should that be necessary."
"That's not the problem, I have to be at my other job today."
"I see. Well, might you be available later in the day? Perhaps after dinner for a bit?"
"I don't know. I have a lot of things I should be doing..."
"It shan't take long. If I were to come by your home around seven thirty, would that be convenient?"
"Uh, well, not really, no." Besides, the Bat probably wanted to kill him for figuring out the big secret.
"I believe that the master wouldn't be opposed to going to you. If he were to call at your mother's home this evening, would you be able to see him?"
"I'm going out with some friends." Christ. The man didn't give up. "I tell you what. I really can't do anything today. What if I went to your place on tomorrow, say in the afternoon. Would that be okay with everyone?"
"Yes, that would be acceptable. Around one, then? We'll be expecting you, thank you."
The last thing Dick wanted right now was to see Wayne at night—and without enough time for him to really digest what he'd found out last evening. The man was the fucking Bat, for God's sake. This was taking a little sinking in time. Okay, it was taking a lot of sinking in time.
On Sunday Dick rode his bike over to Wayne's place, went in through the delivery gate and knocked on the kitchen door, the way he always did. This time he was nervous.
"Ah, punctual, as usual. Do come in. May I get you something? A soft drink, perhaps?"
"Water would be good, thanks."
"Master Bruce is in his study, if you'll follow me."
Glass of water in hand, Dick sat down in one of the large leather chairs opposite Wayne's enormous desk—the one that looked like it had come from some embassy or museum or someplace—and probably had—or probably belonged in one, anyway. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Wayne?" Mr. Batman. Mr. Urban Legend.
The older man was contemplating Dick as if he was in a job interview or some kind of experiment. And, knowing Wayne, he might well be. Or he could figuring out how to scare the shit out of him to keep him quiet about—things.
At first Wayne didn't say anything, just studied Dick, looking at him like a scientist would look at a bug under a microscope. Finally, "I just wanted to touch base with you this weekend. Did everything go well in Minnesota?"
Of course. "Yes, fine, thanks."
"And you're not taking any drugs now, are you?"
Like it was any of his business. "No, I'm clean."
"But I understand that it's a daily fight, isn't that right? Have you been clean since you got back?"
Nosy bastard. "It is a daily struggle, yes, and yes, I've been off drugs since I left for Hazelton—is there a point to this and why do you care?"
"I think you know that I've been concerned about you since that night at the circus, Dick. The fact that you're not living under my roof doesn't mean that I'm not worried about you."
Christ, get to the point, will you? "I'm fine. And I know you've been looking over our shoulders since I went to live with the Porters and I also know all the stuff you've done for them—and for me. And I appreciate it." He started to get up. "So if that's all you wanted, I'll be going."
"It isn't. Sit down, please. Have you given any thought to what you'll be doing next year? You're a senior, right? Have you started looking at schools? Do you have any plans about what you might like to study?"
In fact, like most kids, he didn't really know, but figured he had to say something.
"I have a couple of ideas, nothing definite. I was thinking of maybe doing something with gymnastics, maybe sports medicine or something. I don't really know yet. I'm not sure anyone would take me with my record...you know, working with kids. Sergei's little gym is one thing, but...I haven't really made any decisions yet. I was thinking I might take a year or two off or something and see what I want." He saw Bruce start to say something but stopped him. "I know, my record as a minor is wiped clean, but that doesn't change the fact that I committed a felony and was in rehab for drug addiction. That's not exactly what anyone wants to see on a resume and, I don't know, even with the records sealed someone could find out."
"Have you thought about maybe working for me?"
Well, ah, no. "At Wayne Corp? Thanks, but I'm not interested in business or any of that stuff. Besides, I'd suck at it."
"I'm not talking about my company. I'm talking about working for me, personally."
What? Maybe he could become the under butler or something, press the cape when it got wrinkled—oh, yeah, just what he had in mind. "I don't think that would..."
"I'm talking more like a personal assistant. You'd help me with some of my off hour activities and just generally act as backup for me."
'Off hour activities'? Uh-huh, right. Even if the man was the Bat—and wasn't that a kick in the ass?—even if that was true, Dick wasn't interested in...things. He was right a few years ago. Wayne liked boys and he was willing to pay for them. Great, just what he had in mind.
Not.
"Yeah, well, thanks, but I don't think that's the sort of thing I'd be interested in, Mr. Wayne. If you'll excuse me, I should be going."
He got as far as the door when Wayne's voice stopped him. "I understand you met Batman last night."
Cards on the table time. "And how would you know that? Were you there?"
Wayne kept his face smooth and the inflection out of his voice. "I know him, yes."
Holy crap and no shit.
There was what would probably be described as a pregnant pause while Dick gathered his thoughts.
"And so what are you suggesting?"
"It occurred to me that you may be interested in helping me and, perhaps, a few of my acquaintances in some on-going work we have. I think that you might be a good candidate."
Jesus. Was the man really suggesting...? Holy shit. And if he turned Wayne down, what would happen then? Would he actually be allowed to just walk out the door knowing what he knew? Well, knowing what he thought he knew, what he suspected?
"What would this involve?" Putting on a weird costume? Having a secret identity? Getting shot at and dealing with a bunch of super powered freaks intent on taking over the world? For God's sake, he was a sixteen-year-old kid still recovering from a pretty good case of drug addiction—and other things. He wasn't in any position to do this, even if he wanted to.
"I suggest that you think about this for a few days. Call me if you have questions and I'll answer what I can."
"...Why me?" The sixty-four Thousand dollar question.
"You're intelligent, of course, and you're athletic—you'd be surprised how much that comes into things. Beyond that, you strike me as a young man who very much wants to do the right thing, to help people and, from what I've seen, you think and act outside the box. That's important in this line of work and you'd be surprised how few people are capable of it. You're independent and—forgive me— you don't have too many family ties. Plus, you don't seem to rattle very easily most of the time. The last year or so I can mark down to extenuating circumstances but I saw how you reacted when you got back—these last couple of months—your getting clean and staying clean—You've shown me what you're made of and I'm impressed. You have what it takes and it's my opinion that all you need is some direction."
Dick watched him as he ran off the litany of his virtues. This was surreal. Bruce Wayne, Batman—the Bat, wanted to bring him on board. Jesus.
"Is there money involved?" They needed the money. It was a consideration he had to think about. He did.
"Generally my friends fund their own activities and there's no salary, per se. Something can be worked out. It has been for others."
"...Uh, who are your friends?"
"We'll get into that later if you decide to get involved. I suggest that you consider what I've said. And I assume you know that I'd very much prefer that you don't discuss this conversation with anyone."
"Yeah, I sort of figured." He saw the dark look he got for that. "I'm not completely stupid, alright? I'll keep my mouth shut."
"Good. Now if you don't have any immediate questions, I believe that Alfred may have a few things you might be able to help him with." He was dismissed.
"Uh, just to make absolutely sure that we're on the same page here—we're not just talking about me cleaning the floor of your garage here, right?"
Wayne didn't answer, but the expression on his face was enough. No, this wasn't an interview for menial labor.
"I need to think about this. I'll call you, like you said."
After Dick had left, with no further mention of him doing chores today, Bruce sought out Alfred in the kitchen preparing dinner.
"It is still completely beyond my comprehension why you think this is a good idea. I mean, really, Master Bruce. The boy is likely capable enough, but he has a history of drug use, his past is severely troubled and he's..."
"He's exactly right."
"This is insanity. The boy will be killed and you'll have that on your head. Beyond that, you've never in your life had a partner. Why on earth do you feel the need for one now? Or is it that you wish for a son?"
"Alfred, we've been over this. I would like to work with someone. I think having dependable backup in the field with me is a good idea I should have acted on years ago, in fact, I think Dick would have been the right choice then—and may have set him on a different path."
"If you feel the need for 'backup', as you call it, then surely one of the more experienced people you work with regularly would be a better choice."
"I've made my decision, Alfred, now please let it go."
"You'll forgive my saying that I think this is a mistake?"
"So long as you don't say it again, I will. Now, what did you plan for dinner this evening?"
Dick pedaled home slowly, lost in thought. Working for Bruce Wayne as his personal assistant?
No.
Working for Batman as his personal assistant.
Jesus.
TBC
10/15/04
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