Welcome back everybody!

I still don't own Young Justice, what a shame.

Chapter 4: Conversations

(Dick's P.O.V)

Dick woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside his window.

Soaked in sweat, Dick tried to untangle himself from the mass of sheets. He realized he didn't feel nearly as cold as he did earlier, his fever must've broken during the night.

Looking around, Dick took in his new accommodations with a mixture of joy and sadness. It couldn't be his old room, he never thought he'd see this place again, yet here it was. Nothing had changed, the walls were the same color, and every picture and knickknack was in its place. But the room couldn't have simply been left alone for there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere that Dick could see, not to mention the sheets were fresh.

At that Dick gave a small smile, good old Alfred.

Kill him.

The smile faded, honestly, was Dick ever going to find a person that the voice didn't tell him to kill?

Dick reached up and took the still slightly damp cloth off of his forehead, intending to place it on the nightstand. But he was still slightly disoriented from the fever and he dropped it on the floor instead. Sighing he reached down and blindly searched for it.

He jumped slightly when his hand brushed something else, a piece of paper.

Upon closer examination, Dick discovered it was actually a picture, a picture of him on his first night as Robin. Dick studied the photo, thank God Bruce eventually added pants to this, looking at his face. It didn't look like the face of the killer, maybe he really was innocent.

You killed them.

But he was insane, so could he really trust his own mind anymore?

Not to mention what Bruce had said. Those pictures, there was something about them that seemed... familiar. Almost as if he had seen them somewhere before, if only he could remember...

A blinding headache suddenly dropped him to the floor.

You deserve this.

Did he? What did he do? He couldn't remember, every time he tried one of these migraines would hit him. What was it Dr. Strange had said? His mind couldn't cope with what his memories were telling him so it had blocked them out or something. Dick honestly didn't remember much from his sessions with Dr. Strange, only a few words here and there.

Rubbing his temples Dick climbed back into bed with a groan, putting his pillow over his head to block out the now overpowering sunlight.

He lay there for what seemed like hours before someone knocked quietly on the door.

"Master Dick? Are you awake?"

Dick peeped his head out from under his pillow just in time to see Alfred crack open the door to check on him.

"Alfred?" Dick was glad to see the butler, and not just because he desperately needed aspirin.

"Good morning, Master Dick, it's good to see you coherent."

"Coherent? What time is it?" Dick asked, pulling his head out a bit more as Alfred placed a tray of food on the nightstand, picking up the discarded cloth as he did so.

"Only 11:30 Master Dick, but yes you've been sick with a fever for about 24 hours now."

Dick tried to push through the haze to remember, he remembered having a short conversation with Bruce, but that was just last night wasn't it?

"B-but didn't I see Bruce last night?" Dick was still trying to ward off the marching band that had taken up residence in his head.

"If by last night you actually mean two nights ago, then you would be correct in that assumption." Alfred called from the bathroom where he'd gone to re-wet the rag.

"I think I remember," Dick mumbled with his face once again buried in the pillow "I had a nightmare or something, but that was down in the cave."

"That's right," Alfred said kindly, lifting the pillow to place the rag back on Dick's forehead, "I found you down there yesterday morning running a fever of 101 degrees and brought you up here to rest."

Dick just nodded and took the cup of water and aspirin Alfred offered. He swallowed that with minimal difficulty when a terrible thought struck him.

"A-Alfred, Bruce! If he finds me up here he's-"

"Master Bruce is already aware sir" Alfred soothed, propping up some pillows for Dick to lean against while he placed the tray in his lap.

Dick looked down at the tray; orange juice, slightly buttered toast, and grits. Good, Dick wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep down anything heavier.

Dick started nibbling on a piece of toast while Alfred told him about his conversation with Bruce.

"It's fortunate that we did move you up here," Alfred explained. "Your fever spiked around noon yesterday, after that you couldn't keep anything down except a bit of water."

For the first time in a while, Dick was happy he couldn't remember something.

Kill him.

"No," Dick muttered.

"Excuse me Master Dick?"

"Not you," Dick sighed, rubbing his temples again.

Maybe I should tell them? He wondered. No! What would they do if they found out? Dick shivered, he really didn't want to go back to Arkham. But he was a murderer, right? What if he... no, he wouldn't. Of course he didn't think he would kill thirteen innocent people either. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt Bruce or Alfred. He had to tell them.

"A-Alfred?"

"Yes Master Dick"

"You... you know I'm... I'm crazy, right?"

Alfred sat down on the bed beside Dick, "What makes you say that?"

Dick swallowed uncomfortably, "well, I- I've been hearing these... voices. And everyone keeps telling me that I killed all those people, but I can't remember doing it! And, and, and... what other explanation is there?!"

Dick's tirade left him panting and shaking. So Alfred put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly to calm him, waiting until he met his eyes.

"Richard John Grayson," Dick started a bit at the use of his full name, "I'm afraid I don't understand what happened to you, neither does Master Bruce. However, I do know that you are a part of this family, and we will do anything necessary to keep from losing you again."

Dick's eyes had teared up slightly during Alfred's speech and he slumped forward to rest his head on Alfred's shoulder.

"Thanks Alfie" he murmured.

"Anytime young Sir." Alfred smiled as he felt the boy yawn. He helped him lay back again, and pulled up the sheets, taking the tray away as well.

Dick slipped back to sleep just as Alfred shut the curtains and closed the door behind him.

(Alfred's P.O.V)

Alfred walked down the stairs, down to Master Bruce's office.

Not bothering to knock, Alfred walked through the large oak doors where he found the billionaire sitting at his desk, surrounded by Wayne Enterprises paperwork, typing.

Alfred cleared his throat as Bruce was clearly engrossed in his work.

Bruce glanced up, "how is he Alfred?"

"He's sleeping now. I did manage to get him to eat something though."

"Good," Bruce kept typing.

"Master Bruce, I believe we need to talk."

Bruce clicked something on the computer and turned to face Alfred. "I'd love to Alfred."

Both stood there for a while, each waiting for the other to start.

Finally Alfred broke the ice, "Exactly what do you think is going on here."

Bruce leaned back in the chair and rubbed his eyes.

"Well, I don't believe he was faking being sick. Other than that..." he trailed off.

"Master Bruce, while you were down in the cave with him did he say anything about... voices in his head?"

Bruce perked up a bit at that. "He's hearing voices? Well that would explain the cave."

"The cave, Sir?"

"He just started talking to himself, or something."

"He did something similar with me sir."

A heavy silence descended between the two.

Once again, Alfred was the one to break it.

"Sir, you know he thinks he's insane right."

Bruce nodded, a regretful look in his eyes. "Well, at least I didn't have to tell him, Alfred."

"Sir," Alfred was shocked, "you mean you think-"

"Yes Alfred." Bruce interrupted, "it's the only explanation that makes any sense."

"But Sir, you can not believe he murdered those people?!"

Bruce locked eyes with Alfred, "there was never any question about whether or not he murdered those people. Dick killed them Alfred, the evidence was concrete on that point. The question was over whether or not he did it of his own free will."

Alfred couldn't speak, he could barely breathe at the moment. Master Dick was never innocent? He couldn't believe it.

Bruce's cold glare softened a bit and he turned the computer screen around to show Alfred the page he'd been looking at.

Life at Home with an Insane Child: for those looking for an alternative to institutions

Underneath the title were stories, tips, instructions, and supportive comments from parents, siblings, and other family members on keeping their loved ones safe at home.

"I've been looking into ways to make it safe for us to keep Dick here at home. You know he's going to need a lot of supervision from now on."

Alfred nodded, his promise to the boy upstairs weighing heavily on his mind. He well remembered their efforts a year ago, when all this had started. They had told the press that Master Dick was visiting family in Romania to explain his absence. Of course, the media would have a circus if they caught wind that Master Dick had returned from his trip in this state. Any changes to the house would need to be kept under wraps and there's absolutely no way they could hire help.

"I'll see that the necessary preparations are made and kept quiet, Sir."

"Thank you Alfred."

(Dick's P.O.V)

Dick tossed and turned in his bed, unfortunately sleep seemed determined to elude him.

He would drift off for a few moments, only to awaken again minutes later just as tired as before.

"Ugh, is there anything more frustrating?" he wondered.

Your constant refusal to do what I say might qualify

Dick twitched, that was an unusually long sentence for the voice.

"W-what?"

You wondered if their was anything more frustrating, your constant refusal-

"I know what I thought," Dick said, "but you don't usually talk to me like that."

Like what?

"Umm, I don't know, not insulting me or telling me to kill someone?" Dick could almost laugh at the conversation, if you could call it that, he had really lost it. Of course, while the voice was talking like this he might as well try to get something useful out of it.

"Why do you tell me to kill everyone I meet?"

Why not?

"Well, because it's wrong, it's sickening, it goes against everything I believe-"

You enjoyed it.

"You keep saying that, I'm still not sure what you're talking about."

You killed them.

"No. No I couldn't have, I would've remembered it."

Really? The voice had taken on a mocking tone.

"Yes"

Well then let me open your eyes.

(Flashback)

Dick lay in wait in a large tree, watching the square below him.

It was close to 2:15 AM, the perfect hunting time in Gotham. Very few people were out at this time, unless they were up to no good, or had no choice.

Dick waited, sooner or later someone would come by who peaked his interest.

Ahh, right there. A young mother was exiting a drug store with a crying child in her arms.

Perfect.

He waited until the two passed directly under his tree. Then he dropped.

The feeling was indescribable.

Exhilarating

The blood.

Thrilling

The screaming.

Freeing

The kill.

Wonderful

Dick stood proudly over his victims, smiling as he surveyed his handiwork. The woman had actually put up more of a fight than he expected, didn't matter though, it only made the job that much more enjoyable.

Dick pulled a lighter from his utility belt and finished the job quickly, he had to get home soon before Bruce and Alfred noticed he was gone. He took one last look at his work, satisfied, before shooting off a grappling hook and heading back to the manor.

(End of Flashback)

Dick was in shock as the memory faded.

See, I was right. You enjoyed it, you loved it.

Dick's mind was racing, aggravating his headache. It was all true, everything the voices had told him was true. He had felt those emotions, seen his victims, and performed the kill.

He was a murderer.

You killed them

He was insane.

You loved it

He was dangerous.

Now you're getting it

Dick's breathing increased rapidly, he was panicking. What if he turned on Bruce? What if he hurt Alfred!? What if... what if...

"I-I need to be locked up, away from everyone."

Well, you were...

The voice was right, he couldn't hurt anyone locked up in the Batcave. He'd just have to go back down there, where everyone would be safe from him.

It's a start, Renegade.

Well, that's chapter 4 everyone. Hope you all enjoyed it. As always special thanks to all my wonderful reviewers, hugs from Dick to all of you!

steelec1: Hopefully this chapter justifies Bruce's actions a bit more, Dick was not nearly as sick when Bruce left him in the cave as he was when Alfred found him. Still shame on Bruce. Thanks for the review!

Guest of Honor: I know, Alfred rocks. Here's your update :)

Sairey13: No the rest of the team is not going to go on any killing sprees in this story, though think of how frightening that would be. Thanks for the review!

Guest: Thank you so much for the support!

Elijah Dragneel: Yeah, I think everyone knows that Alfred is the real boss of the Batfamily. Thanks for the review!

See you all next time!