Chpt. VIII: Interrogation

Dick sat at the table in the dark interrogation room, staring at the guard by the door. He stared right back at Dick with a stern face, as if attempting to intimidate him. It was working.

Dick grinded his teeth, upset he had got himself in the situation in the first place. He didn't know how long he would be waiting, but he certainly hoped it wasn't long enough for Bruce to find out. It felt like Dick had waited for a few hours. It was like he was in a prison. Dick was thankful they hadn't kept the handcuffs on him in the room.

Suddenly the door swung opened, and a large burly man walked in, followed by another man in average height. The larger man wore a fedora and a dark shirt with overalls. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing dark tattoos on his hairy, muscular arms. The man behind him wore a black coat over a bright shirt and a blue tie. He had a small mustache and wore wire framed glasses. He carried a few manila colored folders in his hand.

The larger man spoke first. "Richard John Grayson, am I right?" he asked in a loud and deep voice. Dick simply nodded. "I'm Detective Harvey Bullock." He pointed to the smaller man behind him with his thumb. "This guy here is Jim Gordon. We're going to ask you a few questions. Cooperate, and this will go by fast and smooth, and I can go home. Alright?"

Dick nodded slowly, keeping in mind that the man hadn't said anything about Dick returning home.

Detective Bullock nodded with a slight grin and took a seat across from Dick at the table. He leaned forward on the table, close to Dick. Dick could see the gray stubble around the man's chin. His body reeked of a sickening odor, like he had bathed in dead bodies and forgot to wash up.

Detective Bullock cleared his throat. "Why'd you blow it up, kid?"

Dick's eyes rose open. He was afraid to speak out of turn, but spoke anyway. "Wait, what?"

Bullock sat back. "Gotham City Underground. The subways. Why'd you blow it up?"

The guard standing by the door cleared his throat. "Excuse me sir, but, um, I don't think that's why he's in here."

Bullock slowly turned back to the guard, an irritated look on his face. "What?"

The guard swallowed. "Uh, the cop who brought him in, he was some sort of neighborhood watch. He said this kid broke into a family home or something."

Bullock slammed his hand on the table, causing everyone in the room to flinch. "'Broke into a family home OR SOMETHING?!'" He repeated. "What the hell is wrong with you, did you bring me the wrong kid, or are YOU in the wrong room?!"

Finally, Jim Gordon spoke. His voice was a bit softer, but just as deep. "Harvey, the man's right, they brought him in for a breaking and entering. This is the same kid who the suspects are saying blew the subways up, though."

Bullock slowly turned back to Dick. His furious glare suddenly turned menacing. "Oh my God, this kid blew an abandoned subway station up, and broke into a home within a week, and he's shaking like a kid about to be spanked!" Bullock stood up and reached over the table, grabbing Dick's shirt collar and brought him close to Bullock's face. The odor was so strong Dick could taste it. "Oh, boy, I oughta spank the shit out of you; maybe it'll teach you not to fuck with my city, huh?"

Dick fought hard not to respond with a smart ass remark, yet the words he thought managed to escape his mouth. "This isn't your city. You're gonna wish you handcuffed me to the chair, because I'm about to teach you whose city this really is."

"Oh, that's it!" Bullock snarled before reaching back with his right hand, about to throw a punch with the brick he had for a fist. Suddenly Bullock was pulled back by Gordon.

Gordon pushed Bullock back with his hand on his chest. "Dammit, Harvey, go punch a wall or something, will ya?"

Bullock slapped Gordon's hand off his chest and snarled at him before leaving the interrogation room. The guard looked relieved that Bullock had left. Jim looked back at the guard and nodded for him to leave as well. The guard nodded and walked out the room silently.

Gordon let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Dick and sat down at the chair across from him at the table. "Sorry about him, son. Detective Bullock has always been the tough guy. Sometimes he just doesn't know when to quit the act."

Dick nodded slowly. This cop seemed genuinely nicer. Maybe Dick could find a way around this guy to get himself out quicker.

Gordon laid out the folders on the table. "So, Dick. Can I call you Dick?" he asked. Dick nodded. "Alright, Dick, we're really more interested in this bombing, but before we move onto that, we'll start on this break in since it's a smaller charge."

Dick sighed. "Alright," he began slowly. He wanted to chose his words carefully and make sure not to get the wrong people in trouble. "I went over to the Foster's home to visit a friend. She wasn't there, however. Apparently she had moved out or something. Her parents freaked out because they were emotionally distraught by their daughter's absence that me coming over and asking about her made them feel threatened, resulting in the police being involved. They said I broke in to get me out of their house. I knocked on their door and Mrs. Foster let me in. I did nothing illegal."

Jim Gordon nodded, listening to every word Dick said. "You're right, they were an emotionally unstable family." Gordon opened a folder and flipped through a few papers. He pulled one out and began reading it. "Cheyenne Freemont, that was the girl. Did the Fosters tell you what happened to her?"

Dick shrugged, not wanting to give too much away. "I assume she moved out."

Gordon scoffed. "Well, it's a hell of a story. This wackjob of a woman calls us up late at night. Maybe around 11:00 PM or something. She says for us to come and help us get a monster. We asked what the monster was. She said her daughter. So we go over within 10 minutes. The entire neighborhood's power is knocked out. Power lines were fallen over, some into a few neighbor's houses. Half of GCPD is attending to the damaged homes and family. I was with a few officers, Bullock had a night off. We talked to the Fosters. They said that the power was out at their house, and their daughter was making things fly, or float, or something. She made their house shake, apparently. But when we got there, she was gone.

"We went and talked to the neighbors about the power. Now, this is where it gets normal again. The entire neighborhood all claimed to have felt two tremors. One that knocked their power down, and another a few minutes later. Something of an aftershock, I guess. We're thinking that these Foster characters got home from God knows what they were doing, found their home's power out, and the interior damaged. Cheyenne, being a minor home alone in a small earthquake, ran away, frightened. I guess the Fosters conjured up this fairy tale to cope with the lose of their daughter and home."

Dick sat there, taking in the story word for word. It sounded strange, but it seemed more logical than the poltergeist story he had heard.

Jim gave Dick a small, but friendly smile. "You're fine, Dick. You did nothing wrong. You didn't know about this. It wasn't that big of a deal, even for the city. The tremors reached out for maybe a mile. On top of that, we had to bring in the Fosters for a psychiatric evaluation. The two of them, in fact, suffer from a few psychological disorders."

Dick's eyes opened wide out of surprise. "Really?" he asked. "Wow. The two of them looked pretty normal. Rude, but normal."

Jim Gordon let out a small chuckle and crossed his arms. "Let me tell you something about normal, son," he began, leaning forward on the table. Dick leaned forward as well, curious. "Gotham City is not a city of normal people. It's not a city of normal things. No, in fact, nothing in this city is normal. Everything and everyone here is crazy. Whether it's in our prison, or Arkham Asylum, or even in your local high school. Everyone is crazy in their own way. That's what makes this city dangerous. That's what makes this city a living hell."

Dick nodded, agreeing with every word. "Hell is home," Dick recalled Nolan chanting.

Gordon flipped back a page in the folder. "So Cheyenne ran away. According to this, she was adopted, huh?"

Dick nodded. "That's how I knew her."

Gordon nodded, pointing to a spot on the page. "Gotham City Orphanage, right." He continued reading, then looked back up at Dick. "Tell me about your time there."

Dick felt his heart beat faster. This is where his life had begun to fall apart. "Uh, well, my parents died when I was 8. I was sent to the orphanage, having no relatives or close family to live with. The Haly Circus was a bad place to stay with since they were having contract issues. I was at the orphanage for a year or two. I met Cheyenne, and we became friends. She left when I was 12."

Gordon nodded. "Haly Circus," he said softly. "I remember seeing you preform. The Flying Graysons, right?"

Dick nodded. "Yeah, that was me. Pretty much everyone remembers seeing me jump through the air as a boy."

"You know I had a nickname for you?" Gordon said, smiling. "I would bring my nephew to your shows and I would tell him, 'Look, it's the Boy Wonder!'"

Dick grinned. "Wow, that's actually pretty terrible," he joked.

Gordon waved him off. "I know, but my nephew loved it."

Dick nodded, still smiling. Gordon continued speaking. "The Haly Circus had a few rough paths after the tragedy. There was the fire, then the murder of Jack Haly, and soon after that, the circus went into foreclosure. Most of this was because of a mob boss named Anthony Zucco. He had some beef with Jack Haly, apparently he had borrowed money from Zucco to pay for the circus. Haly came up short when it came to paying Zucco back, so he burnt the circus down to prove a point. Once they were renovated it, Haly was in more debt. He couldn't pay neither the city OR Zucco. Zucco killed Haly. Then, someone unexpected murdered Zucco.

"We were all shocked at the GCPD. We couldn't catch this guy for a few years now, we didn't know why. But a few years ago, somebody finally did. There's a few rumors around our police department that the circus has a guardian angel. We thought that at this point you'd like to know about what has been happening. I went down to the orphanage to bring the news to you, but they said you had been adopted and wouldn't release any records to me. We came back with a warrant, but Mother Louise stopped me. She said you had gone through too much and it was best you didn't know."

With each word, Dick's heart felt heavier and heavier. The memory of the fire, his time after Cheyenne had left the orphanage, and his time on his own. Jim Gordon spoke again. "Now, you've grown from a talented young boy to a smart young man. I'm sure everything you've been through has built you into a stronger person. Especially with all that's happened in that underground city we found."

Dick's heavy heart was beating irregular already. This statement made it freeze entirely. "What?" Dick simply said, his voice cracking.

Gordon waved a hand. "Son, we know about that whole deal. The weapons trade, the fight club, the gambling, all of it. We investigated the blast site and managed to hunt down a few people who had lived down there for a while." Gordon opened another folder and removed a document and began reading. "I have here a listing of the suspects we brought in for questioning: Alex Henderson, Paul Schmidt, William Quinn, Ben Parson, Jeffrey Kingston, Rodrick Farmer, and Nick Turner."

Dick's hand clenched into a fist involuntarily. "Rodrick Farmer?" he asked.

Jim Gordon nodded. "Yes, each of these suspects, all coincidentally teenage boys, stated that you were involved with this underground fight club and were the one responsible for the subway explosion."

Dick scoffed. "Alright, I'll admit, I took part in the fighting, but I didn't blow anything up." Dick ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "You should question these boys about a guy named Nolan Drake."

Jim Gordon pulled out a pen from his coat and began jotting notes down on the documents. "Nolan Drake?" he repeated. "Who is this?"

Dick let out a sigh. "Nolan was what the kids considered the mayor, or president, but more like a dictator. He set up the rules around the place. He came off friendly to some, but when you crossed him, he was sick and insane."

Jim Gordon continued writing. He glanced up, but looked back down, finishing his statement. "Sounds like you two have history."

Dick nodded. "When I first met him, he had two big goon looking brutes standing on each side. They looked clueless. Nolan smiled at me. It seemed genuine, yet it seemed like he was something else altogether. Something darker, like a cunning wolf. At first, it looks majestic, but when fucked with, it can pounce on you like the predator it is."

Gordon nodded. "Alright, we'll be sure to look into this guy." He organized the folders and put them in one pile. He picked them up and stood from the chair. He walked to the door. "I'll be back," he said.

"Wait!" Dick called. "Bring Rodrick in here, please."

Gordon looked back at Dick. He scratched the back of his neck, unsure. "I'll try," he said before stepping out.

Dick sat back as he waited. He thought about everything that had been said throughout the night. The incident with the Fosters was cleared up. Cheyenne wasn't being investigated, so she would be safe, wherever she is. Dick was in the clear for what he had done the night he ran from the orphanage. He was also in the clear for the explosion. Or at least he thought.

Just as Dick was getting comfortable, the door opened. Walking in was Rodrick, in tattered clothes and a swollen face. He was handcuffed with his arms out in front. He looked up as he entered the room and stopped when he saw Dick. He began to turn around, but the door was slam shut by a nearby officer, probably the one who let him in.

Rodrick turned back to Dick. He began to laugh nervously. "Hey, dude," he began. "You look good."

Dick grinned. "Yeah. I was adopted by a billionaire last night," he remarked.

Rodrick nodded slowly. "The rich get richer," he mumbled softly.

Dick let out a chuckle. "Rodrick, I fucking miss you, man. Come here, let me hug you."

"Oh, nah, man, I'm good," Rodrick said, shaking his head.

Dick nodded. He stood up. "Fine, I'll come to you."

Rodrick began to move away from Dick. Dick continued to follow Rodrick, both circling the table. "No, I'm good, man. I'll stay across from you."

Dick eventually stopped, feeling frustrated. He leaped up onto the table, sliding across, and swung his leg up, kicking Rodrick in the face. Rodrick fell over and screamed in pain. Dick began kicking Rodrick in his gut, over and over, each kick pressing deeper into his stomach.

A cop rushed in after a few moments. Dick stopped and held his hands up at the sound of the door opening. "Okay," he called. "I'm good. I'm done."

The cop nodded and walked out the door. Dick looked at Rodrick, who was quivering on the floor. "You fucking psycho!"

Dick let out a loud laugh. "Hah! Can you blame me? I almost got blown up a couple of days ago!" Dick began circling Rodrick's body. "I can't BELIEVE you would go to so much trouble to rob me! I mean, really? A fucking grenade, man?"

"What the fuck makes you think that was me?" Rodrick cried.

"You fucking idiot, it's not a coincidence that a grenade was tossed at me, knocking me out, giving you a chance to take the cash! Of course it was you!" Dick let out a frustrated groan, then kicked Rodrick again in the gut.

"Fuck!" Rodrick whined. "Yes, okay, I tossed it at you! I never meant to kill you, though! It was all just for the money! I was trying to keep track of how much money you won because I wanted to escape from Old Gotham too! I wanted the money to leave town with my mom and sister!"

Dick looked down at Rodrick. The words echoed in his mind for a few moments. "What?"

"Yeah, man. Nolan had half of the boys down there acting as his bitches because he had managed to find a way to sort of blackmail us into doing his bidding, I guess. He had people kidnap someone's girlfriend. He rigged another kid's dad's car to blow whenever Nolan wanted. He told me he had three men watching my mom and sister at home. The moment I disobeyed Nolan, he'd have his men kill my family. I wanted your money escape with my mom and sister out of town."

Dick was speechless. He leaned back against the table behind him. He began to feel his heart sink. He hadn't realized the predicament some of the boys down in Old Gotham were in. Rodrick had a family he was looking out for. The money really would've helped them. Suddenly Dick started to feel selfish, having only been looking out for his own skin.

Then again, Rodrick lied to Dick before. What was stopping him from coming up with another bullshit story?

"What's your sister's name?" Dick asked.

Rodrick looked up at Dick, still on the ground. "Tracy," he mumbled. "Why do you care?"

Dick shrugged. "Maybe these guys can put your family in some sort of witness protection."

Rodrick scoffed. "Nolan probably already had them shot," he spat. "He was pissed at me before we were raided."

Dick looked down at Rodrick. "What do you mean?"

Rodrick took a moment to breathe. He struggled to stand, but managed to lean himself against the table. He limped over to the chair and slouched down onto it. "When I tried to make the run for it, Nolan sent his boys after me. He brought me back to his Slaughterhouse."

Dick shuddered at the thought. He was familiar with Nolan's Slaughterhouse. Nolan had managed to find one large storage unit, and used it as his own personal torture chamber. He made it into his Slaughterhouse.

"He tied me up to a chair and shined that giant lamp at me. He asked me where you had run off to. I told him I had no clue. He went behind the curtain where he hid his weapons and grabbed a baseball bat. He swung that shit at my face. He asked again. I couldn't answer. He swung again. He kept doing that for a while, and eventually was bored and pissed. He told me he was going to have his men wait till my mom and Tracy were asleep in their bedrooms, then have them shoot them in their sleep.

"I freaked and said that if he let me out, I'd go topside to search for you. He was skeptical since I had blown up a subway and tried to run. He goes and grabs a dirty rag from the ground and a gallon of gasoline. He starts waterboarding me. I freak out, spazzing everywhere. The suddenly I hear a bunch of screaming. Nolan and a few of his goons had run away, and I was left tied up. The cops had raised the whole place, capturing a few kids. They cut me loose, but brought me into custody."

Dick nodded, taking in the story. Dick had no doubt this was all true. Something as cruel as what he had described was something Nolan was very much capable of. In fact, Dick himself had witnessed the cruelty Nolan had put Dick and others through.

Dick turned to Rodrick. "Have you told the cops anything about where Nolan might be?"

Rodrick shook his head. "Dude, I have no fucking clue where the son of a bitch went. And even if I did, the cops wouldn't stand a chance at catching the fucker, let alone finding him."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

Rodrick looked up at Dick. "The guy is psychotic. He's obsessed with power. Have no idea why, but the guy wants to rule people! Like Napoleon, or Hitler or something. He thought it was enough to have us all succumb to his control underground, but he grew power hungry. He's been planning a citywide takeover. I don't know the full details, but he has some sort of thing going on. And whenever that plan fails, he has a contingency plan! And with the sort of connections Nolan has with the criminal underworld, there's no doubt he might make it work." Rodrick gestured to the door behind him. "Those cops out there don't stand a chance to the mind of an insane boy."

Dick nodded. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened behind Rodrick. A cop stuck his head through the door. "Grayson, you're free to leave."

Dick looked up. "Just like that?" he asked.

The cop nodded. "Yeah, Bruce Wayne is demanding that we let you go. Detective Gordon says we got everything we need from you now, so you're free to go."

Rodrick smirked. "Son of a bitch, you weren't kidding about the billionaire."

Dick nodded, walking out towards the door. He turned back to Rodrick, who was turned in his seat. "Be careful, dude," he warned him. "And whether or not anything you said was true, seriously stay away from Nolan. We both know the guy really is crazy."

Rodrick nodded, turning back in his seat. Dick walked down the hallway. He made his way to Detective Gordon. "So Bruce is here?"

Gordon nodded. "Yeah, he's pissed. We told him your charges were dropped, but we wanted to bring you in for questioning. That didn't help, though, he's still mad."

Dick nodded. "Have your guys look out for Nolan Drake," Dick said. "And Rodrick Farmer. He might have a family. A mom and a sister, Tracy. There might be a hit on them, so if they really exist, keep an eye out."

Gordon nodded. "Will do, son."

Dick nodded, and turned away. He walked down the hall and entered the police station lobby. Standing in the middle, with his buff arms crossed over his large chest, was Bruce Wayne. "Dick!" he called.

Dick waved shyly. "Hey," he said softly.

Bruce ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Dammit, Dick," was all he said before turning and walking towards the exit.

Dick watched, confused, then rushed after him. He followed him outside, down the street towards his car. Alfred stood at the driver end of the car. "Evening, Master Dick," Alfred called. "I apologize for-"

"Al, not now, dude," Dick shot back.

Bruce suddenly spun in his tracks and slapped Dick at the top of his head.

"Ow!" Dick cried. Bruce surprisingly slapped hard. "What the fuck, man?"

Bruce pointed an accusing finger at Dick. "I told you to stay at the house today! I didn't want you being seen, and you managed to get yourself arrested!"

"Yeah, okay, that was stupid, but Detective Gordon and I talked and the charges are dropped about the break in and the explosion!"

"Wait, a break in?" Bruce roared. "How the hell did you manage to break into a house?"

"I didn't! That's why the charges were dropped!"

Bruce let out a deep breath, then continued to lecture Dick on disobedience for leaving the home. Dick lost focus. He began trying to identify a sound he heard to his right. He turned and noticed an alleyway. Dick slowly walked over, still facing Bruce to create the impression he was paying attention. He then glanced into the alley from the corner of his eye. He saw two bodies, one over another.

Dick turned instinctively to get a good look. A guy was beating up another, possibly mugging him. Dick ran down the alley, ignoring Bruce's calls. As Dick ran closer, he had a better look at the fight. A tall man in a leather jacket was holding a smaller man in a headlock and repeatedly kneed him in his stomach over and over.

When Dick got close enough, Dick yelled "hey!" and ran towards the right, running up the wall for a brief second. As the man turned around, Dick kicked off the wall, sending his leg to swing around, kicking the man in the face. The man doubled over, falling back against a dumpster. He laid there, crumpled on the ground.

Dick stood up, panting. Bruce had begun running down the alley. Dick turned around, looking down at the fallen man who was being attacked. He wore a red hoodie. His hood was over his head. He laid still for a few moments, then his finger twitched. He began to groan.

Dick kneeled down next to the body. Dick shook the shoulder softly. "Hey, you okay?" Dick whispered.

The man's head nodded, face still planted into the ground. He extended his arm out. Dick took his arm and wrapped it around his neck, helping the man up.

"I can stand," mumbled the man. He struggled, but managed to get on his two feet. He removed his hood, revealing his brown hair and brown eyes. He had a clean shaven jaw, making him look young. In fact, he came off to look younger than Dick thought he was. He was only a boy, like Dick.

"Thanks," the boy said. "Really, thanks so much. That bastard was trying to get his hands on my wallet, but I put up a fight."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "That was you putting up a fight?" he asked rhetorically. "I'd hate to see you actually lose, then."

The boy let out a sarcastic laugh. He stuck his hand out. "Roy Harper."

Dick looked down at his hand. He shook it. "Dick Grayson."

Roy smiled, shaking firmly back. He looked over Dick's shoulder, noticing a very stern Bruce Wayne standing behind him. Roy's smile faded, and he removed his hand. "I think your dad is staring," he whispered to Dick.

Dick turned around to face Bruce. He gestured behind him with his thumb. "I just saved this guy," he said. "Have I made up for the arrest?"

Bruce shook his head. "Dick, do you honestly think beating up a guy justifies your reckless behavior?"

Dick shook his head, grinning. "No, but I just saved him from being mugged. I feel better about myself, and that's good enough for me." He turned back to Roy. "Alright dude, I have to go attend to my house arrest duties. You stay safe, and have a good night!"

Roy slowly waved at Dick and Bruce as the two walked back down the alley to the car. Bruce smacked Dick once again in the back of the head before getting in the car.