Flashback Chapter 5 Curtain Call

Last year, Harry the clown had tried integrating motorcycle tricks into his act. It didn't work out, but Dick learnt to ride the bike before his dad found out and banned him from it. The reflexes that helped him fly across the circus heights had made him a natural. And now that summer's thrill-seeking let him sneak out, and into Gotham City.

Of course, he could always blame Bruce for leaving the road map and motorbike lying around his…cave.

And the computer telling him where to find his parents' killer.

'This is stupid. There is no reason why Bruce would have everything I need for vengeance, unless he's taking care of it,' the calm, rational part of his mind reasoned. 'The equipment, the computer, the car…he must be financing Batman or something. Do I want to risk angering Batman? Let him take care of it.'

Dick had stopped listening to the rational part the moment he saw Zucco's name.

Scooping up Zucco would be easy. With Dick's testimony, a jury could almost certainly be convinced he killed the Graysons. But there was still the question of who was at the top of this particular food chain. Was it Zucco, a small-timer trying to hit big, or was he working for someone else? Carmine Falcone's 'Roman Empire' was collapsing, had been since his lieutenant Sal Maroni maimed Dent and created Two-Face. While this gave newcomers a chance to make their own businesses, it also opened up vacancies in the operations of all the established mobsters.

Batman sighed silently, hardly moving on his perch. Zucco would be followed, his apartment was already bugged, and if nothing else, they'd hear enough to collar his subordinates, who could make plea bargains to testify against Zucco…

It was all easier when Dent had been D.A. and could deal with the courts.

The pager went off. Captain Gordon had the signal on the GCPD roof, but had also been persuaded to take the pager for when he was at a crime scene or similar. He seemed to like beginning a stakeout with a quick summary of what they had, what they needed and what they wanted.

"Captain," Batman said, dropping down next to the policeman leaning against the hood of his car. Inside it, the radio, tuned in to the bug, played Zucco's snoring. As expected, Gordon went over the evidence, the acid-burned rope, Haly's testimony that he'd been told to pay or have a tragic accident, Dick's testimony that one of the men, identified as Tony Zucco, had told the other two to arrange an accident. Probably enough, in Gordon's words, but a good lawyer could say it was all circumstantial. Testimony from his subordinates; a confession; these could make it air-tight. The bug would need backing up. Batman knew this; Gordon knew this. The recap was simply for reinforcement and the long-suffering cop's comfort.

A crash from the radio interrupted them. They both looked at it, hearing the sounds of Zucco startled into wakefulness, then over top the apartment. Batman zipped off, wondering what he'd missed, when a voice came over the radio earpiece. "Tony Zucco," it said. A girl's voice, or a pre-pubescent boy…Dick.

"Whu- yeah. Who wants to know?"

"You killed my parents."

"Huh? Look, kid, I don't know what you think-"

"You. Killed. My. PARENTS!"

A pause. Batman could see both figures through the window. "You're the Grayson kid."

"Yeah. Why? Why'd you kill Mom and Dad?"

"That's what you gotta do. Your lot wouldn't play, and you can't have that, not if you want to be a big man. And you're either a big man or a grunt. I'm my own boss. I'm gonna be a big man, and no snot-nosed brat's gonna stop me."

There was the click of a gun's safety catch being unlatched, and Batman didn't hesitate. He swung forward, barrelling through the window and lunging across the room to knock over and envelope his ward. Zucco's bullet streaked along his shoulder, scoring the Kevlar cape but not penetrating. From his position crouched over the boy, he whipped out a batarang to disarm the mobster, and kicked out to knock him to the floor. "Stay down," he growled.

Movement. Dick rolled to his feet and, quick and nimble, flipped over his protective arm. The boy scooped up the fallen batarang, slick with Zucco's blood, and lunged. Batman grabbed his wrist, the sharp metal shard an inch from the mobster's neck.

"No," he whispered. "It's not worth it." He let the growl drain from his voice, not wanting to scare the lad. Dick looked up at him, ice-blue eyes wide, lips moving silently. "Bruce…"

Gordon came through the already open door. Batman swept aside, pulling Dick with him. The cop holstered his handgun, and pulled out cuffs instead. "Anthony Zucco, you're under arrest for extortion, the murders of John and Mary Grayson, and two counts of the attempted murder of Richard Grayson." Gordon proceeded to recite the rights, leading his prisoner out.

Batman looked at the trembling child in his arms, put a finger to his lips to quiet him, and turned off the bug. "How did you get here?" he asked.

"Saw the address on the computer, in the cave. Borrowed a bike…"

Batman nodded. "We'll find another reason, for Gordon. Why did you come?"

"I had to know why. What my parents were to him. I just didn't get it. Not sure I do now…"

Gordon's footsteps on the stairs. "You're Wayne's ward now, aren't you son?" Dick nodded. "I'll have to call him to pick you up." Dick then completely defied everyone's expectations by flinging his arms around Batman's waist.

"I'll take care of it, Jim," he said, unwilling to dislodge his boy.

Dick sat on the Batmobile's hood, hugging his left knee and idly kicking his right heel. Bruce- Batman- had told him to stay put for now, then abandoned him again. At last, their butler and almost-grandfather showed up. "Alfred, what's Bruce doing?"

"Tearing your room apart to find out how long you've known."

"I didn't know," Dick blurted. "I knew there was a secret basement thing here, I didn't see the cave 'til tonight, then I thought Bruce was just bank-rolling or something…"

AN: Okay, who gets worried when Dick has an idea? Who thinks Bruce should be worried? Who thinks this is stupid and I shouldn't bother writing it? Seriously, guys, I know you're reading this. But none of you are telling me what you think of it! (Except Glimare and PrincessofBadLuck. Thanks, guys.) This means I am, regrettably, unable to tell if you think this is good or not. Bit off-putting. Please, for the sake of my muse's self-confidence, leave a review. Any questions about what's going on, ask in a review or PM.

Next week, we will see Dick's idea. Or maybe they will all get killed. Who can tell?

Katara

Alfred sat next to him and patted his back. "Master Bruce is obsessed with cleaning up crime, as a form of justice for his parents. He calls it his Mission."

Dick tilted his head, the pieces falling into place. "I want in." Even as he said it, the idea flooded through him, and he realised how true the words were. He really wanted nothing more than to do what Batman did. "I want justice, too. And if I'm watching Bruce's back, he'll be safer, right?"

"Master Bruce would never allow it."

"Please, Alfred, help me. I think I know how to make him accept me."

Alfred examined the boy who was now family in spirit as well as in law. Learning Bruce's identity had inspired the boy, and if the lad's past was anything to go by, he had difficulty grasping the concept of danger. He'd get himself killed, if Bruce didn't train him, and if he didn't manage to prove himself a little first. Turning him down could end up a death sentence. And hadn't Bruce admitted he wanted the boy as his son? That was exactly what Dick wanted; to be Batman's son. "Very well. But you'll need an outfit, and a name."

Dick slipped off the car, rolling forward and flipping onto his hands. Still upside down, he jumped and turned, looking back at Alfred. "I have an idea," he said, and the mischievous grin Zucco had wiped from his face began to reappear.