A/N: Thanks to everyone for their wonderful feedback on the last chapter. I love the YJ fans so much; everyone is so lovely. :)
Hope you all have a nice weekend and enjoy!
oOo
"Hey, Janey, how's the kid?" asked Ken Staunton, entering the room where Jane was just finishing suturing the wounds on Dick Grayson's arm. The boy had returned from X-ray almost an hour ago, wearing a hospital gown from paediatrics covered in rocket-ships. Radiology didn't have a gown small enough to fit him when they removed his school uniform. It made Jane wonder exactly how old Dick was.
"He's still unconscious, but he's started responding to stimuli. I'm hoping that means he'll wake up soon so we can talk to him. It might shed some light on what really happened to his arm." She looked up at Ken and spotted the folder in his hand. "Are those his X-rays?"
"Yeah. I don't have the CT results though."
"Don't worry, I already have them." She nodded her head towards the file on a nearby table. "I had Radiology put a rush on it. The CT showed increased ICP due to swelling of the brain tissue, but the drugs seem to be controlling further swelling. I'll send him for another CT later to monitor his progress."
"Wouldn't it be better to organize for an ICP monitor?"
Jane flashed him an irritated look. "I am not drilling a hole into the child's skull when the swelling appears to be under control! There are too many risks involved with such an invasive procedure and it could do more harm than good."
Ken held up his unoccupied hand in a placating gesture. "Just thought you wanted to cover all bases given who we're dealing with."
She sighed and stood up, pulling off her gloves. "Sorry, Ken. I'm just wound up. I've been paging Eddie and he hasn't responded."
"Still not sure how to proceed?"
She shook her head.
"Maybe these will help." He moved over to the view board, removed the radiographs from the folder and put them up. Jane turned off the lights and came forward to look.
"Spiral fracture of the humerus," Ken told her, pointing to the radiograph in question. "A common fracture in child abuse."
"It's common in young children," Jane corrected him. "Dick is what, eleven or twelve? It's pretty hard to twist the arm of a child that age hard enough to break it."
"But not impossible. You saw the handprint! And his shoulder was dislocated as well. I've seen the news; Wayne is a big guy. I bet he could do it."
"It's not enough, not for someone like Bruce Wayne. We need more evidence."
"Well, there's always this." Ken pointed to the second radiograph. "Angulation of the ribs at three different sites."
Jane blinked and stepped closer. "Old fractures?"
Ken nodded. "There's also evidence of an old skull fracture, as well as fractures to the index and middle fingers on his left hand. And he broke his right arm at some point."
She stared at the view board. "Do we know if he's ever been in an accident?"
"If he was, then it didn't happen in Gotham. I checked with records and got his file." Ken handed her a folder. "Dick has only been treated at Gotham General twice. He had his appendix out three years ago and he was treated for hypothermia last winter."
"Hypothermia?" she queried, opening the file and flipping through it.
"Something to do with a kidnapping. There's not much information in the notes."
"He's thirteen," said Jane suddenly, catching sight of Dick's date-of-birth. Funny, she wouldn't have thought he was that old.
"That many injuries for a kid his age are more than a little suspicious," Ken replied quietly. "What are you going to do?"
Jane glanced back at the radiographs on the board. The rib and skull fractures were especially troubling because they indicated serious abuse.
"We call social services," she decided. "We're mandated to report this. And if it turns out that we're wrong then at least we can prove that we had good reason to be suspicious."
oOo
Jane was in the middle of splinting Dick's arm when Eddie Fish finally showed up.
"Jane, I've just been talking to Ken – please tell me you didn't call social services on Bruce Wayne!"
"So you want me to lie," she answered, getting ready to stand her ground. She liked Eddie. He was an excellent doctor and one of the few people in the hospital who addressed her by her actual name, but he was still Chief of Medicine, which meant sometimes putting politics before the patient.
Eddie exploded. "Jesus Christ, Jane, what were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking about this boy," she retorted, continuing to splint Dick's arm.
"Jane, I get that your heart was in the right place, but you shouldn't have done it without consulting me. This is Bruce Wayne we're talking about, the guy donates millions to this hospital every year! If you're wrong, it's going to paint the hospital in a very unflattering light, not to mention opening ourselves up to accusations of slander."
"I had no choice," she defended herself. "I couldn't reach you and this is a serious case. If you don't believe me, take a look at his X-rays on the board."
He didn't budge. "I was in a meeting, Jane. You could have waited."
"Just look at the board, Eddie."
He glared at her, but did as she suggested. After several minutes he let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dammit."
"I've been documenting other injuries," Jane continued. "There's a massive bruise in the shape of a handprint right over the humerus fracture, I photographed it before I started splinting the arm. And there's what looks like cigarette burns – old ones – on the inside of his arm, as well as some sort of scarring on his right thigh. Someone has been hurting this boy, Eddie, and we're obligated to report it."
"I know, I know." He sighed again. "But none of that will make this any less of a–"
He was interrupted by Ken sticking his head into the room. "Sorry to interrupt but social services have arrived. And there's someone looking for Dick Grayson. The desk staff have been putting him off for over an hour now, but he's getting pretty insistent."
"Is it Bruce Wayne?" Eddie asked, frowning.
Ken shook his head. "Some British guy. Says he's the butler."
"Go talk to him," Eddie ordered. "Tell him we're still treating the boy and that we only release details regarding a minor to a parent or guardian. I'll deal with social services."
"Got it."
Ken disappeared and Jane shook her head in disgust. "His kid's in the hospital and Bruce Wayne sends the butler? What a prince."
"He's a prince with the power to make life very difficult for this hospital," Eddie reminded her. "So tread carefully."
oOo
"Alfred, how is he?" Bruce demanded anxiously when he finally arrived at Gotham General. He'd been in Chicago on business when Alfred had called to tell him that Dick had been rushed to hospital. Bruce had flown back immediately, his heart in his mouth the entire time.
The butler's expression was strained. "I'm afraid I don't know, sir."
Bruce frowned. "Don't know? What do you mean you don't know? You've been here for almost three hours!"
"Indeed, Master Bruce, but they are refusing to give me any details. They said they can only release information pertaining to a minor to a parent or guardian. They were unusually insistent about it."
Bruce felt his stomach twist. That didn't sound good. He swallowed and tried to keep the shake out of his voice. "Well, I'm here now, so…" He turned and strode quickly towards the information desk, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart.
"Excuse me," he said, reaching the counter. "I want to speak to someone about Dick Grayson."
The young woman behind the desk looked up and her eyes widened in recognition. "Uh…yes, sir, Mr. Wayne…sir! I'll get someone– a doctor…right away!"
She scuttled away and Bruce refrained from rolling his eyes: Alfred wouldn't have approved. But it was hard not to be irritated when people turned into babbling idiots around him.
He turned back to Alfred. "Did you find out from the school what happened?"
Alfred's mouth tightened in displeasure. "From what I can gather, there was an altercation with another student. Mr. Wilson informed me that the witnesses gave conflicting accounts. Some claimed an older boy was taunting Master Dick, while others insisted Master Dick just attacked the other boy. The only thing any of them agree on is that Master Dick rushed the older boy and the boy lashed out, pushing Master Dick down the stairs."
"Do you know who the other student was?" Bruce longed to get his hands on that student and teach him a lesson or two.
"I'm afraid not, sir. Mr. Wilson said the principal would prefer to speak with you personally regarding the matter."
"Of course he would." Bruce shook his head in disgust. People always treated Alfred as 'just' the butler. They never saw how integral he was to the Wayne family. Bruce knew he should be glad – such perspectives meant Alfred was safe from the type of scum who targeted Dick – but it just made him angry. Alfred deserved better than that.
"Mr. Wayne?" a voice sounded behind him, and Bruce turned to find two women standing there. He couldn't help but notice how serious they looked and swallowed hard.
"Yes. How's Dick?"
It was the taller, dark-haired woman who replied. "Still unconscious."
Bruce's heart plummeted. "He's still unconscious?! Why? What's wrong?"
"Unfortunately, Dick hit his head pretty hard when he fell, causing the brain to swell. It's resulted in increased intracranial pressure. We're treating him with drugs to reduce the swelling."
The woman's tone was clipped and her expression was unfriendly, but Bruce didn't care. His only concern was for Dick. "What if the drugs don't work? Will he need surgery?"
For some reason, the woman scowled at him. "The drugs are working. Dick is starting to show signs of coming around. When he's conscious we'll run tests to determine if there's been any long-term damage."
Bruce felt the world drop out from under him. "Long-term…damage?" he managed to croak.
She gave him a strange look. "Impairments to his memory, vision, speech, motor skills – things like that."
"Is that likely?" he asked, feeling as though he could hardly breathe.
"It's always a possibility with injuries like this."
"Oh God." Bruce covered his eyes with one hand. There was a good chance that the concussion Dick had suffered last Saturday was compounding the issue.
"Mr. Wayne, I need to speak with you regarding Richard," the other woman addressed him suddenly.
Bruce lowered his hand and turned his attention to her. She was short and squat, with greying hair and a stern expression. Her eyes were studying him with dislike and it suddenly occurred to him that there should be no need for two doctors to brief him on Dick's condition, regardless of who he was. His guard immediately went up. Something was off here, both women were radiating hostility.
"But isn't that what you're doing?" he asked, playing dumb.
The woman shook her head. "Dr. Lewis has just filled you in on Richard's current injury, but I need to speak to you about his other injuries."
Bruce knew at once that they must have removed Dick's cast and seen Mammoth's handprint. This woman had to be from CPS. "Other injuries?" he repeated with a touch of anxiety, playing the concerned, clueless parent in order to buy himself time to think. "Dick suffered other injuries?"
The woman made an impatient noise. "I'm talking about his arm, Mr. Wayne."
"The one he broke last weekend?" Bruce plastered a horrified expression on his face. "He didn't do more damage, did he?"
The woman narrowed her eyes at him. "That's just it, Mr. Wayne, we don't believe that Richard was the one to do that damage in the first place."
Bruce blinked, pretending to look taken aback. She was definitely with CPS. Shit. "I'm sorry but who are you?"
"My name is Margaret Elliot and I represent Gotham CPS."
Bruce crinkled his forehead in a display of confusion. "Child Protective Services? Why are you here?"
"I called them," the other woman – Dr. Lewis – informed him.
Bruce glanced back at her, maintaining his confused expression. "Why?"
"Because I found strong evidence that Dick is being abused," Dr. Lewis replied, glaring at him.
Bruce allowed his jaw to fall open. "Abused?! Are you implying…you think I… My God, NO! Dick is my son, I would never hurt him!"
"We have evidence that suggests quite the contrary," Margaret informed him coldly. "Richard's arm was broken and his shoulder was dislocated. Can you explain the bruise in the shape of a handprint on Richard's arm, Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce pretended to look relieved. "Oh, that. Yes, I can. I'm afraid that was my doing– but not for the reasons you think," he hastened to add. He cringed inwardly, hating how dim he had to make himself appear, but he needed them to think that he was too dumb to lie believably. "Dick and I were camping in Colorado last weekend and we went caving. We're both into extreme sports." He gave the women his most insipid 'Brucie' smile. "Dick fell through a deep crevice and I grabbed him before he could drop. Unfortunately, the speed of his fall and the force I grabbed him with…well…" Bruce trailed off and shrugged, forcing his expression into one of regret and guilt.
The women didn't look convinced. "And you expect us to believe that?" Margaret snorted.
"I know how it sounds. But I do have a witness: our caving expedition guide." There was no caving expedition guide of course, but it was insanely easy to create people who didn't exist.
"That doesn't explain his other injuries," Dr. Lewis spoke up.
Bruce frowned. "Dick fell at school. I can hardly be held responsible for that."
Margaret pursed her lips. "Those aren't the injuries she's referring to. The hospital performed a skeletal survey and a radionuclide bone scan. Both revealed that Richard has suffered from broken ribs and a fractured skull in the past, as well as breaks to his right arm and the fingers of his left hand. And he has what looks like cigarette burns on his left arm. How do you explain that, Mr. Wayne?"
He couldn't explain it. The broken arm, the fractured skull and the busted ribs were the result of the beating Dick had received from Two-Face during his first year as Robin. The broken fingers were courtesy of Harley Quinn's mallet, while the cigarette burns had been the start of Joker's attempt to 'roast' a bird.
Bruce suppressed a shudder at that last one. It was the only time Joker had ever gotten his hands on Robin, and if Batman hadn't found the boy so quickly they wouldn't be standing here now.
Not that standing here was much better. Bruce hadn't anticipated the skeletal survey or the bone scan, and he wasn't prepared to account for all of those injuries. "Am I to understand," he spoke with dangerous calm, once more buying himself time to think, "that this hospital exposed my son to completely unnecessary levels of radiation without any consent from either myself or him?"
Dr. Lewis blanched visibly. "We acted in Dick's best interests, Mr. Wayne. A bruise in the shape of a handprint on Dick's injured arm is very suspicious."
Bruce frowned again. "If I were anyone else, would you have performed such expensive and unnecessary tests? Or would you just have called in social services?"
Dr. Lewis' eyes darted uneasily towards Margaret Elliot, telling Bruce his questions were right on target.
Margaret came to her rescue. "Mr. Wayne, the hospital's actions are not under investigation. Yours, however, are. And you still haven't answered my question."
"You mean can I explain Dick's injuries?"
The CPS agent nodded.
Bruce sighed. "I can account for some of those injuries, but not all. I didn't adopt Dick until he was nine, so I can't speak for what happened before he came into my care. But you should know that he was a trapeze artist with a travelling circus. I imagine some of those injuries came from that."
He could tell at once that Margaret Elliot was fully aware of Dick's background, while Dr. Lewis was not.
"And the injuries that you can account for?" Margaret prompted, her face impassive.
"The broken arm and one of the broken ribs were caused by a horse riding accident during Dick's first year living with me. The broken fingers happened when he was trying to build a tree house and got carried away with the hammer."
Bruce hid a smile at that last lie. Dick had not been impressed with the excuse to cover for his broken fingers, claiming it made him look like a dumb kid. But Bruce had insisted. At eleven, Dick had been too old for the catching-his-fingers-in-a-door excuse, but too young for anything more extreme.
"That all sounds conveniently in order, Mr. Wayne," said Margaret coldly. "But why was Richard never brought to the hospital for those injuries? Surely broken bones warrant immediate medical care, especially for a child."
"Dick did receive medical care," Bruce responded, equally icy. It was getting harder to remain civil when all he wanted was to see Dick. "I brought him to see Dr. Leslie Thompkins at the Gotham Clinic."
"Gotham Free Clinic?" Margaret clarified, raising an eyebrow.
"I paid for his treatment," said Bruce, more defensively than he'd intended. "Dr. Thompkins is Dick's paediatrician, as well as my own doctor. I've known her for years and trust her completely."
"Tell me, Mr. Wayne, why would a man of your position bring his only child to a free clinic in one of Gotham's most unsavoury areas instead of bringing him to one of the best medical facilities on the east coast? Unless he had something to hide of course."
Bruce clenched a fist and felt Alfred's hand on his arm, cautioning him against losing his temper. He'd completely forgotten about his faithful old friend throughout this exchange, and he flashed the older man a grateful look as he unclenched his fist and forced himself to relax.
"Ms. Elliott," he began, keeping his tone calm, "my reasons for bringing Dick to see Dr. Thompkins are because of my position. It brings a certain level of attention that I try to keep Dick from being exposed to. For example, by the time I leave here tonight, someone in this hospital will have contacted the media and there will be a host of reporters waiting for me outside. In all the years that I've been attending Dr. Thompkins' clinic, such a thing has never happened to me there. Besides, unless something like X-rays are required, Dr. Thompkins generally comes to Wayne Manor to see Dick. I prefer to keep him out of Gotham's less desirable areas."
Bruce wasn't completely lying about that. As Robin, Dick spent most of his time in Gotham's most dangerous districts, and while Bruce wasn't happy about it, Robin could handle himself.
Dick couldn't.
As an ordinary boy, Dick didn't have the same defences that he did as Robin; he couldn't use any of his skills without revealing himself as Robin. He was vulnerable in the city, more than most because of who Bruce was, and Bruce was fiercely protective of him as a result. Something that Dick never failed to grumble about.
Margaret Elliot was studying him with a suspicious expression on her face. "I don't see why some media vultures would keep you away from a first-rate medical facility. It may be inconvenient but a little press never hurt anyone."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Oh no? Three years ago, Dick had his appendix out in this very hospital. Two men, disguised as doctors, entered his room in the middle of the night and tried to abduct him. Because of the press presence, they knew exactly where to find him and how to get to him. Last winter, Dick was treated here for hypothermia after he was kidnapped and locked in a freezer. Three times, a member of the press got into his room and harassed him while he was recovering, both from his injuries and a traumatic experience. So, I'm sure you'll understand why I'm not overly fond of bringing Dick here."
Both women looked rather stunned by Bruce's words. In fact, Dr. Lewis looked outright horrified.
Bruce didn't care. He was done with this charade. "Ms. Elliott, I am not hurting Dick and he will tell you the same thing once he regains consciousness. Now, if you have no more questions, I want to see my son. Dr. Lewis, could you take me to him, please?"
But before the doctor could respond, Margaret Elliot stepped forward. "Hold it right there, Mr. Wayne. You may have an answer for everything, but I still have to verify them. And I need to account for Richard's other injuries. I have no intention of letting you near the boy so that you can coach him on what to say."
Bruce felt something cold wash over him. "Meaning?"
"Meaning as of this moment, I am removing Richard Grayson from your custody. In the interests of this CPS investigation, you are forbidden from having any contact with the child."