Disclaimer: Don't own, wish I did and am making no money whatsoever.
"Alfred, I don't know what's going on with Tim and Damian." Dick was not having a good day and having Alfred call him to see if something was wrong with his younger brothers was not helping. "Whenever I've seen them, they've been secretive, but that's just..." he waved his arm in the air, searching for the right word."…Them. I'm sure they're fine."
He looked up in time to see a black haired man stride into the bullpen and make a beeline for his desk - this day just kept getting better and better. "Listen, I'll stop by later this week and see if I can't get Tim to open up and find out what's going on. But for now, I need to get back to work. "
The phone was back in its cradle by the time that Lucas Bishop, Internal Affairs, made it through the maze of unhelpful officers. Dick got the stink eye from the older officer, but ignored it. Bruce on his worst day gave a better stink eye.
"Grayson, your report needs to be corrected." Dick knew without asking which report he was talking about - an incident report that he had filed accusing Grant Wilson of beating a suspect. Which he had and then the kid had turned out to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The problem was that Grant's father was the Chief of Police and that Dick wasn't buying the party line of letting the other man get away with murder, literally in some cases. Dick knew that he was walking on thin enough ice as it was, since he was one of the few officers that wouldn't accept bribes. This was only going to make things worse for him and Amy couldn't be there to watch his back all of the time.
"No." Dick gave the black haired man standing over him and exasperated look and tried not to look too irritated. It probably wasn't a good idea to tick off the guy from internal affairs, but Dick also wasn't about to let some idiot with stick up his ass get in the way of him doing his job. "I stand by exactly what I put down on the report."
"You're accusing Officer Wilson of beating a suspect." Dick shifted in his chair and wondered, not for the first time, whether he should just give up here and take Bruce up on his offer. He shut that thought down almost as soon as it formed. He was not taking any of Bruce's charity.
"Because he did." Dick noticed that he had a message alert on his computer and gave the other man an insincere smile. "And I do have some paperwork that I need to fill out, so if we could continue this some other time...?" He let the question trail off and hoped Bishop got the hint. He did and backed away from Dick's desk.
"We will be continuing this conversation later, Grayson."
Dick ignored him and opened the email, skimming over it with disinterest. It was this departmental memo, which the Chief sent out every Monday. It wasn't until he got to an entry on the middle of the list that he did a double take and reread the whole thing. He reached for his phone and hit the first speed dial button. "Bruce? I'm forwarding you an email - you're going to want to read it."
Dick hung up without waiting for an answer and pushed himself back from the desk and escaped the room, heading for the sticky humidity of outside. It was better than the chill of the air conditioning, which was working for once, and gave him some privacy. Few souls were willing to endure the weather for no good reason except for the smokers but they stayed in their designated area.
He walked, needing to work off the excess energy. This... this should not be happening. Not now. Dick had thought he was gone forever. Gone or dead, and Dick couldn't say which prospect he had hoped was the case. How was Tim going to take it? How was Alfred going to take it?
The older man had been devastated in the wake of the worst tragedy that had hit their tiny, makeshift family and Dick didn't want to break the news to Alfred. But someone had to and Bruce would be too busy turning into a control freak to tell him. Not that Bruce was a fountain of forthrightness to begin with.
Dick slowly dialed the older man's number. "Alfred, it's Dick. We need to talk." A long pause. "He's back."
Dick made it to Alfred's in time to join him for dinner. The meal was silent, both men lost in their thoughts. It wasn't until afterwards, when they were sitting on the balcony of Alfred's condo, that they actually started to talk.
"He's not going to take this well." Not a question, coming from Dick, who had the most insight into his father's mind, aside from Alfred.
"No. Bruce has never taken things outside of his control well." Alfred took a sip of his tea and stared into the distance. "Something like this… that hits so close to home for him; and you and Timothy, of course, will not sit easily."
Dick drained the beer he had been drinking and reached for another. Alfred would cut him off at four and he would make sure that Dick slept in the guest bedroom. "So, what are we going to do?"
"We are going to make sure that he doesn't do something rash and that the boys are both safe." A pause. "It is all we can do."
Dick really didn't have anything to say to that, so he let silence descend on them again. It was actually pretty peaceful up here – this high over the city, you could pretend that there wasn't any of the city noise.
"Speaking of your brothers, Richard, I admit to some concern." Dick sighed and collapsed back in the chair.
"What's wrong?"
"They've been going to the Narrows." Dick sat bolt upright at that news. There was no reason for either of them to be going to that part of town. And Tim should know better; that was something that he and Bruce had both drilled into Tim: which areas of town he was not allowed to go in and how to get out of him if he did find himself there.
"What? Why?" If that was why they had been keeping secrets, he was going to belt both of them. They shouldn't be that reckless and Tim, at least, knew that the Narrows were completely off limits. No exceptions.
"That is why I had called you. Neither Timothy or Damian will talk to me and both deny ever going there in the first place." Alfred's revelation nearly had Dick's jaw dropping. Tim didn't usually blatantly lie. Oh, he misdirected, withheld and obfuscated with the best of them, but he rarely lied outright.
"I'll look into it Alfred, but tomorrow. Right now I need to go to bed – I've got graveyard shift in six hours."
A/N: Here's Dick's chapter where there is a lot of talking and not much gets accomplished. Sorry it took so long and is so short. Also, over the last five chapters, who can name the supporting cast and where they're from? Because no OCs were harmed during the writing of this fic. And seriously, please tell me how I did.