A/N: So it's been a while. Sorry about that. I hate writing things in order sometimes, cuz I have ideas for where this story can go, but I can't do it until I get the boring introductory stuff out of the way first. That and, until you know how to get there, you kinda can't get where you're going. Anyway, this chapter shoulda been a heck of a lot more fun, but in all truthfulness it gave me nothing but grief. All three of my boys went completely silent on me (except for Racetrack, who decided he was gonna screw around with one of the other stories I was writing), so I was stuck trying to come up with stuff on my own. And then Spot finally got talkative near the end, which I'm not sure is necessarily a good thing, and somewhere in the process of trying to reconcile Bruce Wayne and Jack Kelly, I think I may have lost them both... Hopefully it won't stay that way, and when I start actually writing him as Batman, it should get better. But for now, this is what I've got. Those of you familiar with the Batman mythos will know precisely where I'm going with this once you read this chapter. If you don't, well you're in for a great treat, aren't you? Enjoy.
Chapter 2: Big Mistake
Cowboy was as good as his word. Neither of us had to lift a finger durin' da next couple'a days. Al, da butler, was a good sport 'bout it, if nuttin' else. An' me, I actually started gettin' used to da whole idea. The other two… Well, I weren't real sure where dey stood on da issue. Whether we was s'posed ta be enjoyin' it or not, I mean.
It was a good while b'fore Cowboy was up ta takin' us out. Said he had some business he needed ta take care of first. We din't know what he was talkin' 'bout at da time. All we knew was he slept real late ev'ry mornin', an' din't come home til real late at night. We din't see a whole lotta him dos first couple'a days.
But finally, by 'bout da t'ird day, he'd turned his attention back ta us. An' we all four went on a liddle excursion to his place of work… Big mistake, Cowboy.
Racetrack tugged uncomfortably on the vest of his suit and groaned as the three boys waited outside the boardroom. "How long's he gonna take in dere?" he whispered, not quite sure why. Just something about the somber silence made him unwilling to break it.
Spot twirled his cane and shrugged, glancing over at the secretary as he answered. She wasn't looking. "Dunno. But he didn't exactly tell us ta stay put now. Did he?"
With an answering shrug, the Italian orphan fingered his collar. "Dats true." He turned to Blink. "So, what on da tour list looked innerestin' enough to skip ahead to?"
"Well," Blink said with a smirk. "I always felt it best to start at the bottom and work your way up."
A knowing grin spread on Spot's face. "Research an' Development?"
"Research an' Development," Blink answered with a nod.
Shifting his gaze back to the secretary once more, Spot rose casually to his feet and stretched, tapping his cane on the floor a couple times before strolling off in the direction of the stairs. She still didn't so much as glance in their direction. The other two followed him as he wound his way through empty hallways and down flights and flights of staircases, keeping out of sight as much as possible. It came easy to him, having lived on the streets of Brooklyn for so long. The encountered few other people as they went, and nobody who stopped them with questions of any kind.
When they finally reached the basement – after getting lost once and ending up in Archives on the third floor – Spot tapped the sign on the wall next to the heavy metal door. "Here it is, boys," he said triumphantly.
Blink grinned as he pushed the door open slowly. It made a soft groaning sound as it swung open, but there didn't seem to be anyone around to hear it, so the three boys stepped inside.
"Whoa…" Blink breathed as the florescent lights flickered on. Race hung back uncertainly by the door.
"Did you see three boys out here?"
"I saw them when you walked in, Mr. Wayne, but I didn't happen to see where they went," the secretary answered without looking up, completely engrossed in her paperwork.
Bruce let out a frustrated sigh. He'd had a feeling the boys might be a little put out at being ignored for the past few days, but it couldn't be helped. And he certainly hadn't expected them to run away. Unless…
With the secretary still not paying him any attention whatsoever, he picked up the phone and quickly dialed. It rang for a moment, and then, "Fox, R&D," came the voice at the other end.
"Hey, Lucius, can I ask you something?"
"A Mr. Grayson, a Mr. Todd, and a Mr. Drake," Lucius mused to himself. Bruce shifted impatiently. "Well, I don't know about that. But we do have something of a situation here. I was actually just about to call you down to have a look."
The young billionaire exhaled heavily and ran a hand down his face as he followed Lucius Fox through the thick metal doors to the basement. Maybe bringing them out here had been a mistake, after all. "I should've left them with Alfred," he muttered under his breath. Lucius didn't seem to hear him.
As soon as they stepped into the vast storage room, Bruce knew he was finished searching. The place was an absolute mess. Storage containers had been toppled over, pried open, and their contents scattered over the floor. A tangled knot of grappling cables ran a web across the pathway between what were once neat stacks of boxes. A few of the cables stretched away who-knew-where into the rafters.
Running over to one seemingly-untouched crate, Bruce allowed himself a breath of relief. "At least they haven't gotten into the explosives yet."
"Would you like me to call security?"
Bruce shook his head, setting his jaw. "They're with me. I'll deal with them myself."
Lucius just stood and gazed around in wonder at the destruction. "It looks like a tornado swept through here," he mused. "Just who did you say these boys were, again?"
"Just some orphan boys I picked up off the street," Bruce shrugged. "The adoption forms are still going through, but officially their names are Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, and Timothy Drake."
"Teenagers?" Bruce nodded. "And what on earth would posses you to pick up three random teenage boys from the streets and bring them in here, unsupervised?"
That was when they heard the screech of rubber. The two men shared a momentary look of disbelief before Bruce shoved the older man out of the way. Seconds later, the prototype tumbler skidded around a corner and came to a shrieking halt – precisely where Lucius had been standing but moments before. The cockpit slid open to reveal three very shocked – and slightly apologetic – faces.
"Extra! Extra!"
The three sullen figures trudged along in silence behind a rather irate Bruce as they made their way down the block to where Alfred was waiting with the car. The familiar sounds of a busy city swirled around them as the bright summer sun beat down on them from between the tops of the tall buildings.
After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Spot hurried forward to walk beside Bruce, though he had some difficulty keeping up with the other's angry strides. "Look, Cowboy—"
"Don't call me that," Bruce interrupted without so much as a pause in his step, keeping his gaze forward.
"Come on now, Cowboy. Lighten up, willya?"
"That's not my name, Dick."
Spot stopped in his tracks, glaring. "It's Spot."
"Not anymore."
With a low growl, he stalked back to his place beside Bruce. "Look, I dunno what yer problem is. It ain't like anybody got hurt."
At this, Bruce wheeled around to face him, so fast it brought all three of them up short. "No, but somebody could have. You have no idea how dangerous that equipment is. One of you could easily have put an eye out or something."
Blink gave a snicker, which earned him another smack from Race. "Whaddaya laughin' at, Kid? Dis whole thing was your lousy idea in da first place."
This elicited a death-glare from Kid Blink. "Well, at least I still got my sense a humor, Racetrack. Or did ya swap out with Skits before we left the lodgin' house?"
"Boys!" Bruce shouted, holding up his hands for silence. Once he got their attention, he took a deep breath before continuing. "Listen, I didn't force any of you to come with me, alright? I offered. There's still a bunch of legal stuff that's gotta go through the system, and it's going to take some time to adjust." Race rubbed his thumb across his upper lip and glared at Blink, unwilling to look Bruce directly in the eye. Bruce ignored them and went on. "As soon as the paperwork goes through, I'll be your legal guardian. But even after that, I'm not gonna sit around and tell you what to do and what not to do. I am saying this, though. I'm responsible for you three. I just want you to please be more careful. Deal?"
Spot shrugged, glancing around at the other two before turning back to Bruce with a smirk. "Whatever ya say, Jacky-boy."
The billionaire groaned slightly in frustration. "And please call me Bruce."
"Sure t'ing, Jacky-boy."
Even Race had a hard time keeping a straight face as a thoroughly flustered Bruce turned and led them down the street. As they passed a dirty, ragged newsie on a street corner, the Italian boy slowed, fingering the two coins in his vest pocket. "Extra! Extra!" the boy was shouting, holding up his paper. "Five dead, two cops! Gordon blames vigilante!"
"Hey… Hey, Cowboy!" Race called over his shoulder. But the other three were already far out of earshot, and almost out of sight. "Eh, what da heck," he shrugged, pulling out a nickel. He took two papes and let the kid keep the change, scanning the headlines as he hurried to keep up.
"Extra! Extra!" the kid kept shouting behind him. "Vigilante to blame for deaths! Batman branded a killer!"
A/N: So yeah. My biggest dilemma with this chapter was: Put out Kid Blink's other eye to advance plot, or possibly save that til later? Guess you can figure out what I settled on. I think it worked out okay in the end. I'm trying real hard to develop a main character here, but Blink's just too pushy, and Spot's gotta be the center of attention at all times, and well... Race is just too short to stick up for himself. Anyway, thanks to Eavis for reviewing. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. If you're reading this right now, I don't care who you are, you'd better review. It's freakin' three a.m., and I'm discouraged... *strangles Blink, simply for being uncooperative* ...please review. Thanks for reading.
P.S. Can you tell I've seen the movie a couple more times since I started this? *facepalm*