Warnings: Keller/Neal, Matthew Keller is not a criminal, Dick is Neal Caffery and David Webb, war, PTSD, Soldier,

...

Dick ran a hand through his hair as he kicked at a pebble. Could tonight get any worse? Honestly, he didn't think it was possible.

It was the day of his parent's death. A day that none of their family should be alone. Yet here he was walking the streets of Gotham.

Bruce was off at some party or another. Tim and Damien had decided to go on patrol which he only found out when he went looking for them. Cass and Steph wouldn't answer their phones. Hell, even Barbara had blown him off with a text message saying she was busy.

Why was it that he was always alone? Was he really no longer needed here? Or wanted? A small part of him asked that final question. Was he no longer wanted with the family?

It wouldn't surprise him. Not really. The family had once come to him anytime there was an issue. Whether that was with Bruce, each other, or help on a patrol. At seventeen Dick was the oldest of the kids. He had also been with Bruce the longest and paved the way for the others.

He very much doubted that if he hadn't done half the things he had Tim and the others wouldn't have become Robins. In some cases that might have been a blessing. Jason had died and come back because he faced the Joker. In other cases, it had given them the strength to keep going after the death of their parents.

A sigh escaped him as he made his turn and headed up the next street. If he was no longer wanted here what should he do? Dick had made a backdoor program a few years ago in case he ever needed to disappear. He could use that but then what?

Over the last few years, he had saved up money he earned. There was a bank account under a false name he made so that no one knew. That would last him a little while but so many questions flittered through his mind. The money wouldn't last forever and if he created a new identity he wouldn't have any experience.

Rubber scraping on asphalt caught his attention suddenly. Dick grabbed at one of the knives he kept on him. No place in Gotham was safe and this particular area was worse than most. Keeping a weapon on one's person was just being smart.

The car that made the sound was a black four-door SUV. It had dark tinted windows so that he couldn't see inside it. Everything about it screamed government car. Mistrust filled him as the front doors opened and two men stepped out.

The driver was a tall man little more than six feet in tall with black hair and grey green eyes. He was in his forties. He wore a grey suit and dark tie. They were tailored and pressed in an expensive way.

The passenger was a shorter man maybe 5'8 in his thirties. He had brown hair and hazel eyes that held a coldness when they landed upon Dick. Like his companion, he wore an almost identical suit.

Dick growled, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The brown-haired one said his voice a cold tenor, "I am Alexander Conklin and this is David Abbott. And you are Richard John Grayson the only child of the Flying Grayson. First adopted son of Bruce Wayne."

CIA. He knew Abbott's name from when he hacked the agency's database to prove that he could. Abbott was also known as the Silent Monk or the Monk depending on who you asked. He was the best analyst that the agency had.

Conklin wasn't as well known. He was a fieldman and rarely spent any time in the States. His firearm proficiency was one of the best that had been seen in years. Dick hadn't tried to break into his file knowing it could set off alarms.

Dick asked cautiously, "What do you want with me gentlemen? Or maybe I should ask what does the CIA want with me?"

Conklin glanced at Monk unsurely before he answered, "You are a smart lad, Grayson. We've known that since you first hacked into our servers. Don't deny it. Just I and Abbott know this. You didn't quite hide your tracks well enough but that can come with practice. Practice and a good teacher."

Dick folded his arms as he asked, "What do you want?"

"In short you," this was the low voice of Abbott.

"Excuse me?"

Abbott continued sounding slightly amused, "As you already know we are members of the CIA. We are looking into getting new operatives. Mostly those who have... a special set of skills and experience that they can't talk about."

Dick blinked. He couldn't mean. The knowing smile said he did in fact mean they knew. They knew that he was a part of the vigilantes.

His mouth was dry and he couldn't find the words to ask questions. If they knew that he was a vigilante then why not turn him in. If they knew about him then they knew about his brothers too.

Would they blackmail him into joining them for the sake of his brothers? Given what Bruce thought of the agencies he wouldn't put it past them. How could he convince them not to turn in his family?

Abbott said after a long moment of silence, "We will not blackmail you into joining us. I cannot give you much information on what we need due to the fact it is highly classified. But I'm sure you've seen how the war in Vietnam is going. We seek to stop it from getting worse. You have done a lot of good here. We are giving you the chance to do even more good. Not just for one city but for an entire country."

Dick felt a pang in his chest as he stared at the men. His arms unfolded and he really thought about it. This was what he had been thinking about. To get away from his family due to the fact they didn't want him. If he went with them then he would be able to help those who needed him.

Conklin came closer within a few feet of Dick. Then he reached into the jacket of the suit allowing Dick to see the sidearm. The jacket had hidden it well and he wouldn't be surprised if Abbott had one too. He didn't go for the weapon instead pulled out two business cards. He held them out to Dick who didn't hesitate to take the cards. One card was for Conklin and the other for Abbott. Both had two sets of numbers for the men. No doubt the office and personal lines.

Abbott said calmly, "We don't expect an answer now. Think about it. If you decide that you want in call one of those numbers."

Then they left and he could not decide what he wanted to do.