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The throbbing headache that had been problematic a few hours earlier was now reaching migraine levels. Still, Bruce just pressed his fingertips to the corners of his eyes and tried to alleviate the pressure before returning to his work. Minus the requisite bathroom breaks, it had been over twelve hours since the man had left the computer. A time or two, Alfred had sent a sarcastic, "Do you require a catheter?" his way. It was when his charge actually pondered the thought that Alfred left the man to his work.
There was little information on any of the boys. Though he was able to discern last names and parents by the small bits Dick had given him and what he had overheard, Bruce was irritated to find just how unhelpful his search would become. There was more information on Richard than any of the rest, though even then it was spotty. A traveling circus acrobat in his early life, Dick's life took a sharp turn when his parents fell to their deaths during a sabotaged performance. Afterward, he had been sent to one of the many crowded juvenile detention centers before running away a year into his stint. Since then, nothing.
It took more searching to find a Jason and Tim that were neighbors a few years earlier and whose ages and appearances matched the descriptions of the middle boys. Full names and birth dates were a start, but Bruce became irritable at the lack of medical or dental records on the boys, let alone any coherent school records. He was able to track down news about Jason spending a brief period in a place called Ma Gunn's School for Boys, but even that had been short. Seemed Dick wasn't the only one with a knack for running away.
Finally, his search for Damian was even more frustrating. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was as if the boy never even existed, and he would have doubted he had even seen him if he hadn't had such a presence about him. Short of checking the boy's DNA, he had a sinking feeling that the boy would continue to be a mystery.
He pushed away from the computer and stretched his aching muscles. In that instant, Alfred placed a covered dish of hot cookies next to him.
"Appreciated," was all Bruce could manage.
"They're not for you, Master Bruce," Alfred returned. At the man's incredulous look, his butler continued, "Judging by the hour and your research subjects, I thought the boys may be more forthcoming if they had a few chocolate chips in their system."
"You mean none of them are for me?"
"Dessert is only given to those who actually eat their dinner, sir."
Luxuries take on different meanings depending on the situation. As Dick sat on the floor of their new hideout, he realized running water had become one of them. In the last warm day of autumn before the chill of winter set in, the desire multiplied tenfold. Each passing moment made the boys feel more and more like animals.
"You smell like a rotten fish threw up shit on a dead pig," Jason muttered to him.
"Nice picture," Dick replied. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"
"Just a couple of minutes. If it didn't reek in here, it would have been less."
Growling—as much as Dick could, anyway—he rose and stormed around the apartment, packing a bag with clothes and books. The other three boys stared at his whirlwind for a few moments. Only when he began packing clothes for them, too, did Tim speak up.
"What are you doing?"
"We're going to the library. It's closed right now, we need new books, and I don't give a damn what the weather is like outside. We need a bath and they have empty bathrooms right now."
Though Damian and Jason would usually prepare to argue with Dick, at this point the desire for warm water and air conditioning won out. Within minutes, the boys made the trek to the rundown library on the edge of Gotham's East End.
While its other branches operated as 24/7 security guard, the library barely saw more than a passing officer ensuring the criminals didn't have the time to set up a meth lab in the library stacks. In the past couple of years, Dick had memorized the officers' schedules and the exact windows with broken locks and stable ledges. The only real obstacle this evening was making sure their combined stench didn't attract starving rats.
"You ready?" Dick asked, turning his attention to Jason when they approached the building's back fire escape.
Without a word, Jason knelt down and threaded his fingers together, creating a stoop for Dick to jump off of. In a well-practiced move, the second-oldest pulled up his hands as the acrobat stepped up, giving him the height he needed to pull down the ladder. They waited a few minutes in the shadows, straining to hear if the noise attracted unwanted attention. After a coast's clear, they lined up like ants and climbed their way inside.
A wall of cool air hit them first, earning a sigh of relief from the boys.
"I wish we could just live here," sighed Tim.
"Give the neighborhood another few years and it might be just as abandoned as everywhere else. Maybe we can then," Jason pointed out.
"Tt, it is no wonder this neighborhood is falling to ruin," mumbled Damian.
"This neighborhood has a lot more problems than people not wanting to check out books," said Dick. "Come on. Damian and Tim, you two take the soap and stuff out of the bag and go to the bathroom first. Jason, you can help me find the books we need until they're finished, then we'll switch."
Curt nods exchanged, the boys parted and Dick scoured the math section for anything that could help further their education. Jason slinked deeper into the library, no doubt to lose himself in the classic literature section. While part of him wanted to tell the other boy to hurry and find what they needed so they could get out before they were discovered, the rest of him kept quiet and appreciated the silence and comfort. There in the stacks, he could imagine a safe roof over his head, one that wasn't caving in on him, and one where he wasn't fully responsible for himself and three others who looked up to him like he had all the answers.
Dick scoffed at the thought. He barely knew if they were going to eat from day to day.
"Looking for something?"
The boy jumped at the voice. As recognition washed over him, he narrowed his eyes at the Batman that lurked in the shadows. "What the hell are you doing here? We're not hurting anyone! I thought you would leave us alone."
"Do you see me hauling you or anyone else off right now?"
Dick thought for a moment before shaking his head, shoulders relaxing.
"Then don't accuse me of anything and I'll continue not accusing you of anything." Though his tone was steady, there was a low rumble that made Dick hang his head.
"Sorry. Just scared me is all," he replied. "We're not stealing anything. We needed to get cleaned up and wanted to check out some books."
"Difficult to check anything out without a librarian present…"
Finding his courage, Dick crossed his arms and returned his stare to the Batman's eyelets. "We keep track of what we borrow and pay what we can for anything we keep out past what would be the due date. This place needs as much help as it can get. It's good to us, so we're good to it."
Not for the first time, Batman couldn't help but feel thrown by the child and his band of brothers. When the silence became awkward, he watched Dick shift, eyes darting to the floor every now and then.
"How did you know we'd be here?" the boy finally asked.
"You mentioned it the other evening. I patrol around here and check in from time to time."
"Creep."
Batman squared him with a harsh glare, forcing the child's eyes back to the floor. "Sorry. Just not used to being watched or anything. Not in any good way. What are you here for, anyway?"
His cape pulled back, and instinctively Dick stumbled a few steps away. He had seen pieces of the arsenal the man kept on him at all times. Hell, he still had the batarang tucked away in his jeans pocket. What he never expected, though, was a covered plate.
"What the heck…?"
"An associate believed these may be beneficial."
Uneasy, Dick took the plate. At the sight of cookies, his mouth began to salivate, damn near drooling on the floor.
"Holy chocolate chips!"
Batman was unable to suppress a laugh at that. The sound pulled Dick's attention back up to the vigilante, a smile creeping onto his lips.
"Thanks. They're not, uh, poisoned, right?"
"You believe I would poison a child?"
"I believe you would incapacitate a criminal."
Batman thought over his words, though it was more the choice of them rather than the accusation that gave him pause. "You and your accomplices are some of the best spoken criminals I have come across. Says something when you've yet to reach puberty."
Dick shrugged, returning his attention to the math books that lined the section, every now and then stealing another look to the cookies in his hands. "We school ourselves."
"Meaning?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." At Batman's heavy silence, Dick sighed and continued. "I was home schooled before my parents died, and Jason and Tim used to read a lot to themselves before they, umm, joined me. Damian we're not sure about, but he's crazy smart, so we think he read plenty. We want to keep it up. If we're going to get off these streets one of these days, we need to at least talk like real people. It's the least we can do."
Batman nodded in understanding, again unable to keep a smile from his face. It felt strange to grin so much while under the cowl, but there was something about the children and their actions that reminded him of his younger self. It was like looking into a filthy time machine-type mirror.
Really filthy.
"By saying you're also getting cleaned up here," he started, "you're using sinks in a closed building to bathe?"
Dick shrugged, pulling out an Algebra text. "Got a better idea?"
A few, the vigilante thought. He quickly pushed them all away, though. No way would any of the boys be willing to accept any perceived charity he had to offer. At least, not yet. Instead, he reached to the top shelf and pulled down a text, handing it to the boy.
"This one. It's what I used to teach myself when I was your age. I appreciated the real-world applications they mention in the book."
Dick glanced over the text, taking in the word problems. Mentions of wind resistance, body mass, and building heights tangled together with variables and formulas. A few of the problems he could even picture, half closing his eyes to imagine himself riding a train at "x" speed for "y" distance or jumping from building "m" to roof "n".
The images made him smile. "Thanks. You know, not just for this."
Batman nodded, his grin soon falling into a thin line. "If you require more help—"
"We can handle ourselves," Dick interrupted. After another heavy silence fell over them, the boy took a deep breath and added, "But, if we can't, I'll call. If I do, though, will there be more cookies?"
"We'll see," Batman said, leaving him with one last chuckle.
Freshly bathed and with their books gathered, the boys placed their old books on the librarian's desk and dropped any spare change in their pockets next to them with a note of, "Thanks!" Only when they prepared to leave did Dick pull out the plate he had kept in his jacket, a few of the cookies crumpled but warm.
"Where the hell did you get those?! This place checks out food now?" Jason asked, lunging for the plate.
"Whoa, hey! Watch it, grabby hands. Someone left them here. Maybe someone left them after a party or something."
"Who would celebrate a birthday in a silent reading room?" asks Damian, eyebrow arched.
"Tim," Jason and Dick answered simultaneously, to which Tim just nodded in agreement.
When Jason returned his attention to Dick and the pile of sugar he had happened upon, the eldest rolled his eyes and handed one to each of his brothers. Not a second later, all of them had devoured the food, pupils dilating like they had just had their first hits of a drug.
"I require another," Damian insisted.
"When we get home, maybe," Dick said. Though the other three groaned in protest, and even Dick's own stomach almost outright revolted, they managed to keep from turning into wild beasts and focused on the walk home.
The humid air slapped them in the face the moment they were back outside, making the heaving of books, cookies, and dirty clothes all the more difficult. Feeling less starved and grimy was a saving grace, allowing them the energy to return to their newfound home.
Dick glanced around each corner, keeping an eye out for the addicts and whores that roamed after hours. The deeper the boys walked into the rundown neighborhood and the later it got, the higher the chances of running into someone or something they would rather not be unprepared for. Police wandering by the library they could handle. A strung-out junkie spotting easy prey was another matter entirely.
It was only when they climbed through the window to their building that Dick let out a sigh of relief he wasn't aware he had been holding.
"Let's see what we can scrounge up for food around here before we destroy these cookies," he said, searching high and low in the desolate room. Minutes passed with opened cabinets and overturned trash only to have him come up empty-handed, save for the box of stale cereal that had been eaten through by mice.
"Cookies for dinner?" Jason asked, perking up. "Don't mind if I do!"
Dick slapped his hand away before he could grab the crack confections. "We need to ration these until we're able to make another food run. It may be a couple of days before we get anything. We can't just go nuts."
"Are there nuts in some of the cookies?" asked a hopeful Tim.
"A couple, but I think— It's not the point! We need to be careful about eating these. We're lucky we had them to begin with."
"I suppose thanks are in order for the sad party that left them," replied Damian. "Though I find it strange they took everything but a full plate."
Jason scowled, any thanks or suspicions far from his mind. "We have food now and we can get more tomorrow. What's the problem?"
"The outdoor market is closed now since summer ended and you know getting food from the store on Park is a pain in the ass on Sundays and Mondays. There are people everywhere. We can't risk it for another few days, so we need to make these last and take what we can from random carts."
"We could get money," Tim suggested, to which Dick only titled his head.
"Did you have someone in mind?"
Jason grinned. "There's that meth lab that just opened up four blocks from here. Whoever is heading it would still be overseeing it until it gets off the ground. They'd be worth it."
"Are you insane?" Dick asked, Jason's smile falling. "You want to wander into a meth lab and rob whoever is in there? We don't even know who runs the place, plus it could explode if anything is overseen by anyone who doesn't know what they're doing. Anyone who would know what they're doing would be too smart to keep it unguarded. We're not going near there."
"If they're dumb, they're not looking, and if they're smart then they're probably rich and slow!" Jason countered. Dick watched as the boys starved green eyes bore into his, and his own stomach wondered how much of a point the younger one had. "We just need to get in there and get out. It's not like the damn thing would come crashing down the second we got in there! Five minutes and we'd probably be set with all the money we need for a month, or at least anything we could sell. Besides, while we're in there, we could totally sabotage the place! The last thing Park Row needs is a meth lab! We're bad enough without some Texas Chainsaw blue crystal crap making this whole place worse!"
Dick stared at Jason, watching as his younger… whatever's desperation began to take a hold of him. It was desperation that made the elder shake his head.
"It's not worth it, Jay. It's dangerous, and we can get by without doing something stupid."
"We're kids living on the streets, Dick. This whole damn situation is stupid."
"Not worth getting killed over. We'll figure out more money and food later. Right now, we'll eat another cookie and just go to sleep. A plan can wait until morning. Okay?"
Jason hesitated, crossing his arms and turning his gaze down to the rotting floorboards below. Dick could almost hear the screaming happening in the boy's head and the gears turning to try and make this whole thing work. He knew there were reasons for Jason wanting to run in there and take down the whole thing. More reasons than he would ever say out loud. None of them made it worth the risk.
Before Dick could open his mouth to reason with him, Tim pulled on Jason's sleeve, bringing his green eyes to Tim's blue. "We'll be okay. We don't want you to get hurt."
His voice was heavy with the same unspoken words hanging heavy on Dick's mind, but something in Tim's tone relaxed the second Robin Hood. He nodded, shoulders slumping.
"Fine. We'll figure it out in the morning. But we better get the biggest cookies on that plate tonight to hold us over."
Dick couldn't help but laugh at that, half out of relief as he passed out the dessert. "Fair enough. Don't scarf it down like last time, though."
The other three grabbed before he finished, though at least had the good sense to take their time on the second round. As if it were their last meal on earth, all four boys nibbles and savored every last morsel. Once the last crumb was long past dissolved, Dick rewrapped the plate and placed it somewhere safe and out of sight.
It wasn't the moonlight that surprised Tim when he woke in the middle of the night. He was used to bad dreams and the darkness that came with. What was strange was the lack of warmth on an unseasonably balmy day. He opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim lighting, then turned to assess his surroundings.
He knew it wasn't natural to run through statistics in his mind as he glanced over the room. Most eight-year-olds, so he had been told, did not have a computer for a mind. Most also didn't sleep on the floor of an abandoned building, so to hell with normal.
But even now, his normal felt off. Another moment of adjusting and his breath caught at the realization.
He took as deep a breath as he could manage in his shaking lungs, and crawled forward toward Dick. The elder boy was sprawled out, hands curled around an invisible bar and brow furrowed at an invisible threat.
"Dick," Tim chanced, quietly shaking the boy.
"Mmmffff…" Dick mumbled.
Another try, more urgent this time. Nearby, Damian stirred, slowly opening bleary eyes to witness the exchange.
Third time was a charm as Tim tried again, Dick bolting upright at the pressure. The leader spun his head around, catching a grip on his reality until the last of the nightmare he had been locked in faded away. After a moment, he wiped his sweaty brow and looked up to Tim.
"What's wrong?" he asked, hoping to sound alright.
Except something about Tim's face told him he was anything but.
"Dick, Jay's gone…"