I think this was my favorite chapter to write, out of what I've written so far. I'm just proud of how it came out.
Robin scowled, tossing away the limp body of yet another henchman. Zucco was good at hiding, but Robin was better at finding. He climbed the mahogany stairs, back straight and lips warped into a snarl. This was it. His prey was found and he only spared a moment to email Commissioner Gordon his location. He couldn't guarantee Zucco all in one piece by the end of it, but he promised one Tony Zucco nonetheless.
He kicked the door open and dodged the rain of bullets immediately hailing down on him. With acrobatic flips only he could perform, jaws were broken and ribs were cracked. Pissed off, Robin turned to the rather confident man sitting in an office chair.
"Well, well, those are some nice moves kid. You made quick work of 'em." Zucco's smile made him sick. "How about I make this easy for you? You work for me, I give you lots of money, and you go without a bullet to the brain."
Robin snarled, ignoring the glinting of the revolver in the man's hands. "Work for you?"
"Yeah, you can be my personal guard. Wait, no, you're that kid everyone's talkin' about. The hero." Zucco barked out a laugh. "I thought you were just some fairy tale. Turns out you're a dream come true for a guy like me."
"Let me educate you, Zucco." Robin stalked forward, looking a bit more threatening with each step he took. "I'm not the same kid from your memories. I can defend myself, and I can protect my family. You see, I've caught word you've gone and shot my family. I've caught word you killed me."
Zucco lifted the safety off of his revolver. "Who are you?"
"I'm going to refresh your memories, Zucco. It's been a while, and I'm in the remembering type of mood." Robin moved just as a shot was fired, round house kicking Zucco in the face before kicking the revolver away.
Zucco yelped before kicking out at him. Robin kicked him in the face before jumping on his chest, causing a couple of ribs to crack underneath his weight. Robin grabbed Zucco's tie, pulling his face forward.
"Five years ago you murdered my parents, Zucco; and now twelve years ago you killed me in the same way."
"What are you talking about?" Growled the seriously hurt man. "You a ghost or something?"
Robin grinned maliciously. "Yeah, or something. I don't think you quite remember."
He hauled Zucco onto his feet and pushed him toward the office window. Slamming his head against the glass, Robin made sure Zucco could see outside.
"How far do you think it is to the bottom? We're what, seven floors up?"
Zucco struggled, but Robin responded by grabbing his right arm and forcing it behind his back, lifting it up higher and silently threatening to dislocate his shoulder.
"That's a little higher than… say a trapeze. Huh, ring a bell to you?"
"Circus… you're here for the evidence!" Zucco growled back.
"Evidence of what?" Before Zucco could respond, Robin slammed his head harder against the glass, shattering it.
"You bitch!" Zucco groaned.
"Evidence of what?" Robin leaned him over the edge of the window, making sure he could see the street and the blurred lights of the city even as the snow fell.
"Grayson kid's murder! Now let me back up!"
"And who exactly murdered him Tony Zucco?" Robin's voice was cold.
"Go to hell!"
Robin shoved the arm in his grasp further up, effectively causing dislocation. "Already been. Who murdered him, Zucco?"
Zucco let out a cry of agony. "Little bitch! I'll kill you!"
"You already have!" Robin pushed him farther over the edge, causing Zucco's sense of balance to tip. "Answer the question!"
"Okay, okay! I did it! I killed the Grayson whelp!"
"And how did you manage that?"
"I poured acid on the lines." Zucco admitted, eyes wide and trained on the ground. "Let me up!"
"Where's the evidence?"
"Second drawer on the left!"
The sound of sirens from below caught Robin's attention. Commissioner was early, how about that? Robin pulled him back into the office, glaring at his bloodied face. Glass stuck to his forehead and nose in small shards, staunching blood flow in only a couple of areas.
Robin reached into the drawer and took out a plastic bag with a bit of rope inside. He clenched it in his fist and turned back to Zucco, who was reaching for his revolver.
"Drop the gun!" came the harsh order from the Commissioner. "Robin, is this the guy?"
"Yeah, it's him. Here's the stolen evidence and here is the recording of his confession."
"Confession? Kid, you're good."
"He's lying!" Zucco snarled. "That bitch did this to me!"
"Good. I'd have kicked harder. You got lucky." Jim snarled. "Thanks, kid."
But when Jim turned back, Robin was gone.
Dick nervously paced upstairs. He knew his parents and Bruce had already traded notes. They knew, and he could tell. He didn't know what to say to them, how to react to whole situation. He supposed he would have to tell them everything.
Or he could run away. Running away wasn't sounding so bad right now; but it was still snowing and tomorrow was Christmas. These were his parents. He hadn't seen them since…
He would face them. Taking in deep breaths, he started on his path down the stairs. He could hear his mother's soft voice.
"What if he's hurt?"
"We have to wait, Mary." His father answered. Dick could imagine him hugging her close. He longed to be in that embrace. "Dick will come home."
Guilt filled him, and Dick hesitantly went down another few steps.
"What the hell? You said your parents were dead!" Jason hissed from the top of the stairs.
Dick jumped, not expecting nor hearing the older boy. Of course, his exclamation was heard by all in the quiet mansion. Next thing he knew, Dick was staring at his parents, Bruce, Martha, Thomas, and Alfred at the bottom of the stairs and being attack by Damian from behind.
"Grayson, you've got some nerve sneaking away again!" The snarky boy wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around Dick's torso.
"Damian, let go!" Tim chastised, pulling back on the youngest, and in effect, pulling Dick back as well. The three of them tipped off balance and landed in a heap on the stairs.
"Boys!" Martha ordered sharply.
Dick winced and pushed Damian off of him, sitting up and staring into the tearful eyes of his parents. His mother looked as if she was going to faint, and his father's lip quivered as if struggling to say something.
"Dick?" Mary called, raising her hand and reaching out for him.
Dick was frozen. He didn't know what to say and looked to Bruce for a moment before realizing that he wouldn't know what to do either.
"I… I got Zucco. The evidence is with Commissioner Gordon. He'll keep it safe."
"You are without injury?" Alfred inquired, as if it was the normal routine to ask.
"Clean. I hurt him pretty good, though." Dick tried to smile but it died on his lips.
"Well?" Jason huffed, still standing at the top of the stairs. "You going to answer my question or not?"
"My parents are dead." Dick said slowly.
"You're Dick Grayson, aren't you?" Thomas furrowed his aged brows in confusion. "These are your parents. They're alive right here in front of you."
Dick bit his lip. How was he going to explain all this? He felt claustrophobic with so many people looking at him, questioning him.
"Son, please," John pleaded, "tell us what's going on."
"Can we… can we talk in the living room?" It was a poor attempt at stalling for time, but it worked.
Slowly, they moved into the living room. Dick made sure to be the last one to enter and he made especially sure to sit as far away from his parents as possible.
"Bruce?"
"Yes?"
"Did you tell them anything?" Robin didn't meet anyone's eyes and thought about his words carefully.
"Everything you've told us."
"Okay." There was silence for a minute, and it was long and tense. "I didn't lie when I told you my parents are dead. But I think I may have lied when I told you I traveled through time. I didn't. This is going to get crazier, and I'm sorry if you don't believe me. But I think I jumped dimensions."
He let it sink in.
"Because, if I had gone back in time and just changed Bruce's past, then it wouldn't affect what happened that night in the circus. Mom and Dad would still be dead and I'd still have survived."
"You're saying this is an alternate dimension because it's the opposite." Bruce nodded. "What else caused you to come to this conclusion?"
"There's a lack of major criminals here. Where's Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Poison Ivy? I haven't even caught a whiff of them. Yet back in my world, they were always breaking back out. This Gotham is bad, but it's nothing like the Gotham I know. My age. I should be twenty. I've died and come back. None of this makes any sense in time travel. Besides, if I did time travel, I shouldn't have any memory of it. My life would reset."
"He's right." Tim frowned. "All things considering, he shouldn't know about how things used to be, either."
"Another dimension, huh?" Jason scoffed. "You keep changing up your story. Sounds flakey to me. Bruce Wayne, coincidentally the richest man in Gotham who has a history of adopting children adopted you in an alternate timeline. Yet, when your real parents show up, you change the story to crossing dimensions."
"Shut up, Jason." Tim snarled. "Haven't you been paying attention? He didn't even want to stay with us. We were the ones who forced him to stay so he wouldn't die out there. His parents are a major factor, too, you know. Their son is dead, and here he is. How do you explain that? What about Robin? How could he magically have the costume and know how to use the belt and pull those moves?"
"You know much I hate agreeing with Drake, but he's right, Todd." Damian turned back. "Grayson's telling the truth."
"But how?" John demanded. "How can you just cross dimensions like that?"
"I was thrown through." Dick answered. "I… I had a fight with Batman and someone threw me into a window and I woke up in that alley. That's when I saved Bruce. I didn't even know it was him."
"Can we… can we speak to Dick alone, please?" Mary asked, squeezing her husband's hand a little harder.
The Wayne family immediately moved out of the room, shutting doors to give them some privacy. Dick was left sitting in his chair, nervously biting his lip.