Time for some Batman butt-kicking!

Trace

"The love a parent has for a child, there's nothing else like it. No other love so consuming."

"What the hell did you do to my son?"

Bruce was at the sanitarium in Jump City, in Glenn Owens' office.

Glenn glared at him. "What did we do to him? Mr. Wayne, he violently assaulted three of my staff. I should be the one asking that question-"

Bruce had the man up against a wall, hoisting him up by the shirt collar. "If you don't start giving me real answers, you're going to lose a lot more than those fancy diplomas there." He growled, gesturing at the doctor's framed diplomas on the wall.

The doctor smirked at him as Bruce released him. "Perhaps I understand now where the boy gets all his anger from."

Bruce gave him a glare as cold as death.

The man tsked. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

Bruce's expression was livid. "Scars. He has scarring all over his hands, wrists, and ankles. How did they get there? Judging by how they healed, he didn't get them at Arkham... which we will talk about momentarily. Tell me. How did he get the scars?"

Glenn was silent.

Bruce was in his face, his eyes flashing. "I specifically told you that I did not want him put under restraint. Considering that you didn't obey that order, I'm guessing there are other things you did without my permission."

Glenn's expression was venomous. "You said you wanted my staff to help him." He paused. "Are you aware that he broke his own arm trying to escape? That he said many times he wanted to die? That he found crude, desperate ways to hurt others? Mr. Wayne, we restrained him for his own safety-"

Bruce lost all control over his anger. "And, I told you, DID I NOT, that if it ever came to that, you were to call me immediately. Did you do that?" He spat.

Glenn's hardened expression fell. "We simply did what you asked. We believed that the necessary actions we took were in Mr. Grayson's best interest. We thought we were... helping him."

Bruce calmly looked at his palm, as if he was reading notes. "So, what do we have here... kidnapping, assault, child abuse, withholding a person against his will, disregarding parental consent...? You've got quite a list of offenses here, Glenn."

Glenn shook his head frantically. "Mr. Wayne, everything we did was for Mr. Grayson's own good. We did nothing illegal-"

Bruce stared at him, flabbergasted. "You're a lying bastard. You intercepted the call that night. How else could you have gotten word-"

Glenn smirked at him. "We received reports from police officers that night. They had considered arresting the boy for tearing apart that abandoned warehouse, but... we instructed them not to, considering who he was and what was happening to him.

"We never took him against his will. We simply arrived at their tower before you could... interfere." He purred. "You called us, yes. And, you told us you wanted us to try to help him. I regret restraining him without your..." He paused, his lip curling maliciously. "Permission... but, my staff was at risk. Before you go making any threats, Mr. Wayne, do consider the other sides of the situation."

Bruce closed his eyes, trying to control his anger. "Then tell me," He asked softly. "Why you never called me after carting his ass off to Arkham?"

Glenn sneered at him. "That was never part of your instructions. We felt sending him to Arkham could help him."

Bruce was silent, staring at the floor.

"Mr. Wayne," Glenn's expression was triumphant with victory. "I apologize for any injuries Mr. Grayson has sustained. We only wanted to..." Glenn faded as Bruce pulled out several pieces of paper.

He unfolded them carefully. "Explain this to me, then." He said softly, his expression dark.

Glenn frowned at the papers. "Test results. For what?"

A nasty smile played at Bruce's lips. "Glad you asked. See here?" He pointed at a column. "I found traces of a rare type of dlysergic acid diethylamide in his system when I brought him back with me. Extremely potent, deadly in some cases, since it usually doesn't show up in routine drug testing." Bruce gently folded up the piece of paper. "It piqued my curiosity. I knew the Titans had taken samples of his fluids the night this all started," He paused. "So, I retested those fluids. Interestingly, they tested positive for the same hallucinogen that was in his system when he came back a few days ago."

Glenn was silent, his face falling.

Bruce's smile widened. "I knew that the hallucinogen couldn't have possibly stayed in his system for months on end. So, I took the clothes that he had been wearing at your hospital and ran some tests..." Bruce said delicately. "Strangely, I found the same exact dust in the fibers of his clothes."

Glenn looked away from the man, his face pale.

Bruce was narrowing his eyes. "Even more strange... after I did some investigating at Arkham this morning, I found that they have literally zero traces of such a drug."

Bruce suddenly got in Glenn's face, his smile deadly. "So Glenn, I figured that there could be only one other place he could have picked up the dust."

"You... you can't prove anything." Glenn croaked.

Bruce smirked at him. "You don't think so?" He paused, looking around the office. "I did some digging on you and your hospital. I was kind of shocked when I found information connecting you with Slade Wilson."

Glenn's breath caught in his throat.

Bruce continued, relishing in the man's apparent fear. "I found out that you did some work with Slade involving the nanoscopic probes that he used to control the Titans, and Dick. I also found out that you never got your reward for doing so, since my son took the bastard down before he could pay you for your services."

Glenn swallowed, his expression desperate.

Bruce peered into his face, his expression murderous. "You never wanted to help my son. You only wanted revenge." He said softly.

Suddenly, a police officer burst into the office, handcuffs at the ready.

Bruce was inches from Glenn's face. Their eyes locked. "You screw with my son, you screw with me." He whispered.

Author's Note:

So, the name, Glenn Owens... Glenn comes from my infamous orchestra director. He is not a pleasant man... obviously, neither is the terrible Glenn Owens!

This was one of the most fun chapters to write. Hope you enjoyed it! Please review.