I'm repeating this A/N from the previous chapter for the sake of everyone who had already read it before I posted this little tidbit. Whoops! Sorry . . .
Okay, my fault . . . I should have double-checked my facts about the rabies treatment. I was going by memory (faulty one, at that). I thought you had a little time before the rabies treatment would become necessary. You know, like a few days to a week, BUT turns out that treatment should begin ASAP (i.e., the first day), and with shots given intramuscularly (with some infusion of the human rabies immune globulin at the site of the bite - think in the bite wound! - and then the rest of it in the muscle close to it (this would equal 3 shots in Dick's case). Then also a shot of the actual rabies vaccine (plus 1 more).) on the first day - You're probably looking at 3 to 4 shots the first day. Then a shot of the vaccine on day 3, day 7, and day 14.
Warning: Some Language and Disturbing Scene . . .
It was nearly nightfall the next day when Bruce entered the house through the mudroom beyond the kitchen. He stomped the snow from his boots, and shook it from his coat and toboggan and hung them up to dry. Alfred was waiting with a cup of hot coffee. He took it gratefully and sat beside Dick at the kitchen counter.
The boy was nursing a cup of hot cocoa. He was looking anxious as he awaited the verdict, but kept silent. According to Alfred, when Bruce had checked in with him throughout the course of the day, Dick had been quiet for most of the day; spending it in either the library or in his room. Other than a low grade fever and soreness in his arm left over from his treatment during Leslie's visit, Alfred had assured him that Dick was doing fine.
The visit had been unpleasant. Leslie had insisted that Dick start the rabies treatment immediately. The boy had been relatively stoic throughout, but the shots had been painful; particularly when she had found it necessary to inject some of the HRIG into each of the bite sites. Fingers are especially sensitive. The boy's eyes had teared up, but none had fallen despite the fact that he had received four shots in all today with the promise of more to come.
Despite that his exposure to the wolf had been the cause of his miserable day, Dick was concerned over the fate of the animal. Taking a long drink of the hot beverage in an effort to warm himself up from the inside out, Bruce didn't keep him waiting long.
"I've been all over the grounds with Animal Control," he stated simply. "There is no sign of the wolf anywhere. They are convinced that it fled the property."
Alfred's face was unreadable as he asked, "And what do you think, sir?"
Bruce shook his head. "I don't know, Alfred. I can't imagine him fleeing the area when it had been so good at providing for him." He glanced meaningfully at the boy next to him. "But we can't even locate where he's been sheltering."
"Odd," Alfred said; placing a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup in front of the younger man.
"And how was your day," Bruce inquired. Alfred had been busy, he knew, with his own project in between caring for the boy.
"The perimeter breach was exactly where you said it was," the older man stated. "It looked as though a car had plowed into the wall there, but I found little evidence of a wrecked vehicle left behind what with the snow; just a few shards of fiberglass. It was exactly as you had described despite further investigation. Neither was I able to locate any information pertaining to an accident in the last three weeks occurring in that vicinity. Perhaps you will have better luck."
Bruce's eyes narrowed. He didn't like the sound of that. It was rather suspicious.
He turned to the child next to him and ruffled the dark hair. A smile eased his mouth when the messy locks looked neater for it than they had beforehand. Alfred had lamented numerous occasions on the difficulty found in trying to tame the unruly mane. Bruce's hand had more luck apparently than did a comb or brush. He made a note to take the boy to his barber later this week, once he was feeling better.
"And your day," Bruce asked the boy. "Was it terrible being confined to the house?"
He suspected it was; especially with several inches of freshly fallen snow tempting him through every window. But then again, he hadn't exactly been feeling up to par. Tomorrow would be better. The wolf was gone. Dick would be allowed to go out and play.
Dick shrugged. "It was okay."
In truth, the boy looked relieved to Bruce. He had been worried when Animal Control had come to track the wolf. Bruce had attempted to ease his mind by explaining that they weren't coming to hurt the animal, but merely capture and relocate him to an area that was both safer for him and provide him ample hunting, but Dick hadn't appeared especially convinced.
"What else did Dr. Leslie have to say about your fingers?" Bruce asked this lightly. "Are they in danger of falling off?" He already knew the answer, of course. He had refused to leave until after Dick's course of shots were given and he knew the boy would be okay.
Dick wiggled said fingers in a show that they were still firmly attached to the rest of him. "No. She said I would have some cool scars from it, but that they would fade in time."
The worried look was back on his face, and Bruce silently cursed at his inability so far to produce the animal.
"I'm sorry, Dick," he apologized. "It looks as if the wolf left the grounds. Animal Control will begin searching the surrounding areas tomorrow, but unless they find something, you'll have to continue the shots to prevent rabies."
"It's okay, really, Bruce," Dick told him. "I only get one shot each of those days. It won't be as bad as today."
Dick patted his arm in an attempt to make his guardian feel better, and Bruce marveled at the boy's resilience and attitude. He turned back to Alfred.
"Have you made arrangements for repairing the wall?"
"Indeed, I have. The company had already sent a representative out to assess the damage. They will be out tomorrow at eight o'clock to begin cleanup and repair." Alfred informed him.
"Good," Bruce nodded.
"Look!" Dick's voice drew his attention. "It's snowing again."
Sure enough, it was. Big, fluffy flakes were drifting down in the fading light beyond the kitchen window. The boy scrambled over to the table in the corner and onto a chair so he could see the phenomenon better.
Bruce moved over to the window with him. Until the wall was repaired, he didn't like the boy near any of the windows. He had a feeling that sleep would elude him in the meantime.
"Tell you what," he said to Dick. "I'll be staying home to supervise the wall tomorrow." And check the area for clues as to what caused the damage in the first place. "But after lunch I'll be free. What say you and I go out and make that snowman we were talking about?"
The first big smile of the day appeared on the boy's face. Bruce felt his mouth upturn in response to it. He grabbed the boy off of the chair and swung him onto his shoulders.
"Now, how about you and I watch a movie before bed? Alfred can make some popcorn."
"Yay," Dick replied, happily.
"What movie do you want to watch?" Bruce asked him as they exited the kitchen. Dick had to duck low so as to not hit his head as they passed through the door.
"'An American Werewolf in London'!"
Bruce blinked up at the boy. "Are you kidding?"
Dick tilted his head. "'The Howling'?"
"Isn't that one about werewolves, too?"
Dick nodded, smiling.
"Might I suggest," Alfred interrupted from the doorway of the kitchen, "Hotel Transylvania'? I hear it has werewolves in it, and might be more suitable for a boy of Master Richard's age."
Bruce smiled in appreciation. "That one sounds more like it."
Dick scowled. "Isn't that a kid's movie?"
"You wouldn't want to have nightmares after watching scary movies now, would you?" Bruce asked him.
Dick bent over Bruce's head to stare at the man. He had faced down a wolf just last night in real life. "You're just saying that, aren't you? To make me feel better about watching some dumb cartoon."
"Is it working?" Bruce asked.
Dick giggled. "Yeah, I guess so. But it better be a scary cartoon!"
As it turned out, the movie was funny, and Dick had laughed all the way through it while Bruce had laughed at him. The two had teased one another all the way to Dick's bedroom saying "Bleh, bleh, bleh!' and pretending to bite each other's neck. The boy squealed, proving he was ticklish around his neck; knowledge that Bruce wasn't above using against the child in play. By the time, Bruce dumped Dick onto his bed, the boy had been laughing too hard to settle down to sleep right away, so Bruce had read to him another chapter of 'Alice in Wonderland'.
Once convinced that the boy was asleep and would stay that way, Bruce headed for the Batcave. He wanted to search the security system once more for any anomalies. Already he had plans to overhaul his system and add extra measures to the outer walls. He didn't want another breach to occur without being notified of it immediately.
The next day dawned bright and sunny.
Dick threw on clothes; layering them as Alfred had suggested. He ran downstairs, eager to explore the snow for the first time. He was only slightly annoyed when the butler stopped him by insisting that Master Richard eat breakfast first.
Bruce had already gone out to investigate the site once more before the workers arrived. Alfred would be replacing him to oversee the progress shortly afterwards. When Dick couldn't be convinced to wait on Bruce before going outside, he was pressed to remain within the vicinity . . . Or shouting distance, as Dick put it.
"Gentlemen do not shout," Alfred corrected, but agreed that the analogy was a sufficient description to what was allowed.
Dick was startled by the how sharp the cold was to his face and lungs, but thought the air smelled better than it had before the storms had swept through the area. The pollution had been stripped from the air, leaving it crisp and clear and fresh. He liked the way his boots crunched in the snow and how silent the world was in general.
He had a couple of hours before Bruce would be free to help him build a snowman, so Dick decided now was a great time to explore the maze. He figured that if he got lost, he could follow his footprints back to the maze entrance.
He entered it hesitantly. The hedges that made up the walls of the maze were tall; well over six feet. It felt a little creepy to him, so of course, Dick was fascinated. Immediately he was faced with a decision of which way to go. Dick went left.
He hadn't gone very far before he noticed a sound of a crunch. Dick halted.
Silence.
He shrugged and moved on, this time choosing right, but after a few feet, he heard the sound again. He froze, and this time another crunch was heard before it, too, stopped. Was someone following him?
"Bruce? Is that you?" Dick called out.
Silence answered him, but then came the sounds of someone walking; apparently no longer concerned about being heard. Dick waited. It could only be Bruce or Alfred, but why didn't they answer him? Then it hit him, and he smiled. Bruce and the butler were aware of his interest in all things scary. Bruce was trying to freak him out a little bit. He would learn that Dick didn't scare all that easily.
The footsteps could be heard moving just on the other side of the hedgerow. Dick grinned. He would surprise Bruce first. Dick began retracing his steps; careful to step in the same rhythm as his pursuer so that he wouldn't hear the boy's movements.
The corner loomed large and Dick pressed himself close to the hedge. He had to work hard to suppress his giggle. He didn't want to give away his presence too soon and spoil his surprise. As the person stepped around the edge, Dick jumped up and yelled.
"Boo! Gotcha! . . . What?" Dick stepped back, as startled as the stranger in front of him. He blinked. "Who are you?"
The man seemed to recover quickly. He smiled at the boy, but it wasn't a reassuring smile, nor even one of amusement. Dick's heart started pounding as his instincts went into overdrive. He began backing up.
"You are a hard person to find, Richard Grayson," the man said in a gruff, smoker's voice. "But for the amount of money I'm going to be paid, the work was worth it."
"P-Paid? What are you talking about?" Dick asked.
"Anthony Zucco. Ring any bells, kid? He's paying some mighty big bucks to anyone who can bring him proof positive that you are dead." The guy grinned. "Guess today's my lucky day."
Dick's eyes widened. He glanced behind him to see how close he was to the next corner. The man's hand shot out and grabbed Dick's arm.
How had he moved so quickly?
Dick lifted his legs suddenly, one of them wrapping around the man's elbow and the boy's weight sent him staggering forward. Dick used his free leg to kick the man in the stomach. He lurched and stumbled to his knees. He released his grip on the boy in order to catch himself and Dick rolled away; coming up onto his feet in one smooth motion.
This time there was no indecision; no hesitation. He ran. The gunshot rang out loud in the confines of the maze.
Holy smokes! That guy was shooting at him!
Dick didn't think, he just dodged and darted around corners; going first one way and then the other. A few minutes later, he stumbled to a halt at a dead end; struggling to catch his breath in the frigid air and to control his panic. Dick could hear the man running after him. He would catch up to the boy in just another minute or two. How easy this must be for that guy as all he had to do to find him would be to follow Dick's footprints!
He glanced around him and saw a thin branch jutting out; something the gardeners' missed the last time they trimmed the hedges apparently. Dick pulled at it, and noticed a small hole. With a little squirming, he thought he could squeeze through it and into the next corridor over. He twisted the branch; breaking it off to make room for him.
Dick climbed through the hole. Twigs scraped at his face and hands. Ignoring the stinging, Dick shoved his way through to the other side. Immediately, he turned and pushed back through, using his branch to erase the evidence of his passage in the snow. Just before the man rounded the corner, Dick pulled back through the hedge and left his branch in place; cloaking the hole he had uncovered. To his pursuer, it should look like Dick just disappeared into thin air!
It should buy him some time, he hoped. Dick scrambled to his feet and ran. Seconds later, he could hear the man cursing loudly.
"Damn you, kid! You can run, but I'm going to find you and then you're dead meat!"
Even if he could evade the guy, Dick was hopelessly lost now. His only hope would be to find one of the other entrances and run back to the house or maybe hide in the surrounding woods. He saw another turn and burst through it and into a clearing.
It took a second before he realized he had found his way to the center of the maze. There was a fountain and a couple of small trees and a bench decorating it. Dick thought it might be pleasant in the spring or summer. He saw another opening in the hedge across the way. Four ways into the maze, but only two led to the center itself, he discovered.
He had taken only a few steps across when a low, menacing growl rent the air. Dick froze and turned his head. He had to blink to register what he was seeing.
It was another wolf . . . A white one this time, and female by the looks of it. Dick counted five pups huddling around her. She was big, but not the size of 'Bruce'. Not that it mattered. She was baring her teeth at him; her head low and her ears laid back. She looked as if she was but one heartbeat from leaping on him.
Dick licked his lips; his eyes darting around, looking for some way of escape. He had no treats with him this time. Animal Control had declared that 'Bruce' had left the area, so Dick had no reason to bring any food with him this time. Had no one thought to check the maze? Or perhaps they did, but couldn't find the center.
He could hear the man's footsteps crunching as he barreled closer and closer to Dick location. What could he do? If he tried to run, the female would pounce on him! If he stayed put, the hitman would catch up to him and shoot him!
He needed help! He needed Bruce! His Bruce!
Bruce climbed over the breach in the wall; searching for signs of any recent passage. Despite getting another two inches of snow last night, he could see where Alfred had combed over the area. He hadn't been here since yesterday afternoon, and honestly, he didn't expect to find anything this time around either. The workers Alfred had hired had begun arriving at the site about the same time Bruce had, and too many people were tracking up the area for him to make any viable headway. He stepped through the breach to survey his property from this angle.
He moved out from the wall several yards to just inside of the wooded area that abutted the wall. Then he saw it.
A fresh bootprint . . .
Bruce glanced behind him. None of the men working to clear the loose stones had ventured this far. His gaze returned to the snow that lay between the opening in the wall and where he stood. It looked untouched at first glance, but here and there Bruce could see a scrape or two in the fresh powder that looked suspiciously like someone had covered his tracks with a branch.
It took only another minute and a few more steps for him to find it. The broken tree branch, now discarded. From here he could see more bootprints in the snow . . . heading off in the direction of the house!
Bruce spun around and ran toward the hole in the wall and where his Range Rover sat parked along the road. He knew he startled the workers, but the only thing Bruce cared about at that moment was reaching the manor before the owner of those boots could.
"Alfred! Where's Dick?" Bruce barked into the phone.
"He was playing in the snow in the backyard, sir," Alfred answered promptly. "May I ask why you are inquiring? Has something happened?"
"I found fresh tracks, Alfred. Just inside the wall breach." Bruce turned the steering wheel hard into the driveway. Even the four-wheel drive having trouble making the sharp turn at thirty-five miles an hour.
The gate had, thankfully, already opened enough for him to drive through without slowing. He hit the remote a second time to close it behind him as his foot pressed the gas once more. He shot forward up the driveway at forty-five mph. Not bothering to pull up to the front entrance, Bruce steered the vehicle over the lawn and around to the back of the house. He skidded to a halt just outside of the kitchen. Alfred was coming out of the door; his coat open and his shotgun in his hands.
"Where is he? Have you seen him?" Bruce leapt out of the SUV while it rocked a bit from the sudden hard stop.
"He didn't answer me when I called to him," Alfred told him.
At that moment, a gunshot rang out.
"The garden," Bruce yelled, and tore off in that direction; his butler not far behind.
A male voice could be heard shouting.
"They're in the maze," he yelled back at Alfred as he dove through the entrance. "Call 911!"
How far ahead of him were they? Had the bastard just shot Dick? The fact that the man was now shouting gave him hope that the boy had gotten away from him . . . But for how long? Bruce followed the two sets of footprints; knowing the intruder would be doing the same thing in order to track the boy. He ran as fast as he could, barely slowing while taking the corners; praying he would find the owner of the boots before this guy could find Dick.
When a second shot rang out, Bruce's heart skipped a beat and then lodged in his throat. He couldn't be too late. He refused let Dickie down . . .
When the man burst into the center of the maze, the volume and tone of the white wolf's growl changed as did her position. She turned to the larger intruder with front legs splayed as she snapped.
The man's facial expressions would have been comical if the situation wasn't so dire. His gun jerked in the wolf's direction and he was seconds away from shooting her. It was no longer just about Dick's survival.
Dick ran at him; grabbing the arm with the gun just as the second shot rang out. The shot went high, and the bullet went over the wolf's head. He had to get the guy to drop the gun. Dick knew if he let go now, he was dead for sure. Last night Dick had been missing his parents enough to wish to join them, but in the morning light, his desire to survive was strong.
He bit down on the man's hand.
"Gah! You little shit," the man screamed.
He jerked the kid off of him and then used the gun to backhand the boy. The crack of metal against Dick's cheekbone was surprisingly loud. He flung the boy into the snow.
"That's it! No more second chances for you," the man growled at him. "No more angels sitting on your shoulder. No more Flying Graysons!"
He raised the pistol. One shot should do it, he was thinking, when a huge weight slammed into him; knocking him completely off of his feet. The gun flew from his fingers into the hedgerow.
Dick lifted his head. The man was talking, but Dick's ears were ringing so he couldn't quite tell what he was saying. Bright crimson blood dripped onto the snow beneath him. He turned his head to face his would-be murderer when something black plowed into the back of him.
Startled, Dick scrambled backward a bit, but vertigo prevented him from regaining his feet. It took a moment to recognize the black shape that was mauling the man as Bruce! Not his guardian, Bruce, but 'Bruce', his wolf.
The giant black wolf crunched down on the man's arm, and his scream was high and shrill enough to reach Dick through the ringing of his ears. The man's other hand scrabbled in the snow in search of his weapon, but before he could reach it, the wolf's jaws clamped onto the back of the killer's neck. His yell, this time, was halted mid-wail when the wolf shook the man like a rag doll; snapping the guy's neck.
It dropped him and stepped back; moving to the female and snuffling her. Its tongue licked her face when it seemed satisfied she was unharmed and the pups ran out to greet their sire. The black wolf held its nose down as each pup came over to jump at him.
Dick's attention was riveted on the man at his feet. His breathing was harsh and loud; his eyes wide as he waited for the guy to get up. He wasn't moving, however, and Dick was beginning to understand that he wouldn't be moving ever again. Steam rose from the ever-widening stain of blood that soaked the snow around the body. He must have made a sound because the black wolf turned to face him.
He felt real fear of the black wolf for the first time. It didn't seem to care one way or the other as it padded over to Dick. It sniffed at him, and Dick flinched away from the powerful jaws. The man's blood still dripped from its muzzle. It didn't try to bite him, however. In fact, it turned away from the boy and was moving back toward its mate when its head snapped up again.
The growl was menacing as it stared hard at the entrance that Dick had come through only minutes before. Bruce rounded the corner and stumbled to a halt at the scene splayed out in front of him. Dick was suddenly terrified that the wolf would attack Bruce like it did the man chasing him. He sat up, wondering if he was about to watch a repeat of the wolf mauling someone; his guardian this time!
Bruce nearly toppled to his knees in a bid to stop. The black wolf stood in the center of the maze next to a white female and a passel of pups. It was growling at him much as it had the other night, but if Bruce felt threatened then, it was nothing compared to the danger he was facing now.
His eyes moved to the left and he found Dick struggling to sit up. The boy's eyes were round saucers in his face, and he noted the darkening bruise on his right cheekbone surrounding a cut that still bled. He looked down at the owner of the boots and recognized a corpse. The black wolf muzzle was wet with the killer's blood.
He swallowed.
"Are you alright, Dick?" His voice remained calm despite the panic happening inside of him. "I heard shots."
Dick nodded. "Bruce saved me," he whispered.
Bruce blinked and then remembered that Dick had called the black wolf 'Bruce' when he had still been convinced that his guardian had been a werewolf. He stared at his namesake now, hoping he didn't have to fight the beast in order to get to the boy. He slid a foot to the left. He would keep to the sides of the hedgerow, bypassing the hitman to reach the boy.
This was why Animal Control didn't find the wolf yesterday. They had said they had checked the maze, but obviously they hadn't found its center. It had also been decided that the maze had stood too close to the house. The team determined that it was likely that the wolf wouldn't consider it safe to shelter so close to a human habitation. Instead, they had searched the woods surrounding it to no avail.
Bruce saw Dick start to move in his peripheral vision, and waved the boy still with one hand. "Don't move," he said to the boy gently. "Wait for me to get to you."
"It didn't hurt me," Dick told him. "The black wolf, I mean. I think it remembered me. It sniffed at me and then moved away."
"Hm, that's good," Bruce murmured.
Personally, Bruce didn't think he would get so lucky if the wolf suddenly took exception to his presence. It turned with him, keeping itself between Bruce and its mate and pups.
"Too bad we don't have any pork loin with us," he said, in an attempt to keep it light.
"I-Is . . . Is that guy . . . Is he d-dead?" Dick was staring at the body that was now at Bruce's feet.
"Don't look it him," Bruce ordered. "Look at me."
"B-But . . ."
"Do as I say," Bruce snapped. The wolf growled in response to the change of inflection in his voice.
Running footsteps could be heard coming near. Alfred!
"Alfred, stop! Don't come any closer," Bruce shouted.
The wolf had turned toward the opening; its hackles raised. The footsteps halted.
"Is everything all right, Master Bruce," Alfred's shouted back.
"So far, so good, Alfred. We found the wolf," he told him. "It and its mate are using the maze as a den. There are pups involved."
"Ah, I see," Alfred called out. "Wise to not exasperate the situation any further, then."
Although it might make Bruce feel more secure to have Alfred's shotgun leveled at the potential threat; he didn't want to have to kill the beast. He didn't believe the wolf to be a man-killer despite it having done just that. It obviously sensed the Dick's attacker as a threat and attacked him in order to protect its family.
It didn't seem to consider Dick a threat, luckily, and while it hadn't decided one way or the other about Bruce himself, it seemed content to allow him to reach for the boy. Bruce knelt beside Dick in the snow slowly.
The wolf backed further away; keeping both him and the opening of the hedgerow in view. Its hackles had lowered somewhat and its ears were no longer flat. The growling had ceased.
Bruce didn't entertain the thought that they were out of the woods yet. Anything could still set the animal off. The fact that it had pups and a mate kept the threat of another attack alive and fresh in his mind. He felt safe enough to turn his attention to the boy, though.
"Are you hurt," he asked, "other than the obvious?" He touched a finger to the child's swollen cheek gently.
"I-I don't think so," Dick told him quietly; wincing even at the light touch.
"Do you think you can walk?"
Bruce preferred to keep his hands free until they were well away from the wolves' makeshift den. He would keep the boy in front of him, however, in case they did need to run; that way Bruce could snatch him up in a heartbeat if necessary.
"Yeah, I can walk," Dick climbed to his feet with a little help from Bruce. "My knees feel wobbly," he complained.
"That's to be expected," Bruce told him; keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder. He chose to keep the state of his own knees to himself. That knowledge wouldn't help the situation by sharing it anyway.
They edged back along the side of the maze wall. When Dick moved to look down on the dead man, Bruce slid a hand under his chin and physically turned his face away.
"Don't look," he warned.
"But . . ."
"You don't need to see that," Bruce interrupted any argument. The boy's morbid curiosity would only haunt him come nightfall.
When Dick huffed in annoyance, Bruce felt his lips twitch upwards in spite of their current dilemma. There was that amazing resilience again. That the boy wasn't hysterical was impressive. That he regained his calm so quickly and able to follow commands in light of what had happened to him and after what he had witnessed was frankly astounding; particularly when one considered his youth. Bruce knew of grown men who would be naught but a blubbering mess were they in Dick's sneakers right now.
Dick waved to the wolf just before Bruce urged him through the opening that led back to the maze entrance nearest the house.
"What's going to happen to them," Dick asked.
"They cannot remain ensconced in my maze, Dick," Bruce answered him as they moved quickly now through the green corridor. "I'll have to call Animal Control to come back out today."
The boy's mouth turned down sadly. Bruce picked him up.
Dick looked startled by the move. "I'm okay, Bruce," he declared. "I can walk out on my own."
The wolf had turned away from them just as they disappeared around the corner, so Bruce felt reasonably confident that it wouldn't follow them out.
"I know you can, chum, but . . . just . . . humor me, okay? Carrying you will make me feel better," Bruce murmured to him.
"Did I scare you," Dick asked curiously.
"Yeah, Dickie, you did," Bruce admitted.
Dick met his gaze for a moment and then settled against him; sliding his arms around Bruce's neck. He laid his head down on the man's shoulder as Bruce moved into a trot. Another corner, and they met Alfred. The butler stood at the ready with his shotgun angled across his body.
"The boy?" The elder man asked with concern.
" . . . Is fine, Alfred," Bruce assured him.
"I took the liberty of calling Dr. Thompkins," Alfred informed them.
At this, Dick's head came up and he looked at Bruce seriously. "I won't have to get more shots, will I?"
That the child had just been chased through a maze by a killer and witnessed the man's violent death by a wild wolf, he seemed to have escaped relatively unscathed and appeared emotionally stable. His fear of shots abruptly struck Bruce as funny. He struggled to contain his chuckles, knowing the boy wouldn't appreciate them, but a few slipped out in spite of his efforts. Dick frowned at him.
"I'm sorry, chum," Bruce apologized, although the smile remained. "I think you won't have to worry about any shots today. And once the wolves are in custody, they'll be checked for rabies. If they are cleared, you won't have to get any more shots for that either."
Dick's expression brightened at that bit of news. His head dropped back down onto Bruce's shoulder for a couple of minutes more before popping back up as another random thought struck him.
"Are we still going to get to make a snowman this afternoon?"
Bruce's smile widened into a grin. "Sure thing, Dickie. We'll make time for it even if we have to turn on the spotlights and make him after dark. You will get to build a snowman today!"
Amazing blue eyes sparkled at him as they exited the shadows of the maze and walked into the bright, late-morning sunlight. Bruce imagined years of snowmen building in front of them, and thought that forever was actually sounding rather nice.
Alfred moved off to greet the army of police that they could hear entering the rounds with sirens wailing as Bruce took Dick into the house. He would see the child settled and then go out and explain the situation more thoroughly. No one would be retrieving the man's body until after Animal Control got there anyway.
Suddenly, a howl rose up out of the cacophony. It was followed by another howl and soon by several more. Dick turned his head up and added his own howl to the chorus. He paused and looked at Bruce.
"Howl, Bruce," he commanded. "Come on, like this!"
Batman might not deign to howl at sirens, but for a minute or two that day, for the sake of the child in his arms, Bruce Wayne did.
REACTIONS?
A short epilogue will be next to wrap things up.