Post by Charlie Brown on Aug 30, 2011 15:40:35 GMT -5
“Dick, I want to speak with your parents by tomorrow.” Dick grabbed his books glancing towards his case worker not unsure how to answer but he had to check himself before he said something that would probably get him held after and today wasn’t one of the days that he wanted to get held over. He got himself out of the situation he was in by playing nice, by “cooperating” and now he had a good thing if one could call it that.
Running his tongue along the bottom of his teeth he nodded towards him unsure what the man wanted to talk about. Perhaps it was about his future as he was about to roll out of the system next year. How were things. Perhaps he wasn’t pleased with the fact that they were nowhere to be found again. Last time they were out visiting with Sharon’s sister in Metropolis. Before that they were off in Star City. They just never seemed to be about when they needed them to be. Not that there was a problem. Dick wasn’t getting into any type of trouble. He didn’t show up in the police station waiting for someone to bail him out. It wasn’t that type of party. If anything he was the model foster kid.
However Sharon and Ronnie just weren’t around on the weekends. During the week they were working and they were around then and then Dick wasn’t around. He was running around the streets right? No he was working as far as they were concerned. He was learning a trade because what else was he going to do with his life? He offered the case worker a smile and knew they were all going to have to put in an appearance together.
Dick wouldn’t say that he had it good with the Martins, but he had better with them than anyone else. He didn’t want to get pulled back into Juvenile Services again. He had had his fill of it and the fact that he was actually working within Social Services it was better. No more group homes. Those were the worse, but at least here he had better control of the situation. He pegged Ronnie and Sharon from the start and didn’t look back, but they were willing to work with him. He did his thing they did theirs and they stayed out of each other’s way.
Social services while it had its perks was stretched beyond capacity they had fewer and fewer people that were willing to work within the system. Fewer people that were willing to brave the streets or even take up for the kids in the system. Most if not all slipped through the cracks and those that did have someone fighting for them usually found themselves resenting it in one way or another because it got them unwanted attention by one person or another. Gotham was drowning in so many problems that its youth was just another burden in a system that was ready to break. Dick survived three years in it actually close to four, but it wouldn’t be four for another two months, but he could pretty much call it four.
In for another interview to make sure that everything was ok he was allowed to come in rather than a home visit though there were always surprise ones if you could call it that. He had to admit that he hated coming in to the offices. The offices were far from warm, definitely not inspiring, gray walls with the washed out fluorescent lighting that had the buzz or hum. They flickered as if they meant to hypnotize. He wanted to be free of the place.
“Of course. Busy schedules and all,” he offered and stepped out into the hall making his way towards the exit. Walking out of the building Dick started on his way “home”. If he was lucky Ray would already be gone and they wouldn’t have to talk. There was nothing to talk about. He did what Ray needed and pretty much let him crash there. He needed a mechanic and Dick did the work. He got money, but what he needed was a place to crash, because he couldn’t back to Sharon and Ronnie’s.
The last time they spoke he knew that it might be the last time. At any point they were just going to disappear. He wanted them out. They weren’t bad people. They weren’t too good either. They kind of netted out, but they didn’t need the type of trouble that he was about to bring. It could happen any day and the day that Ronnie walked out and found his tires slashed and the windshield caved in. That was pretty much it. He didn’t say anything not at first, because he thought it best just to let them think vandals, but then he told them that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t give them details, but he told them all he felt they needed to know. Just enough to give them reason to leave.
The walk wouldn’t be a long one, but by the time he was hoping the fence and coming into garage from behind the thought of trying to figure out what to say or do with the case worker faded.
Instead it was replaced with other thoughts. Thoughts that took him out of the garage and down towards the diner. Stomach was growling and he needed grub, but that was stopped short, by what he saw outside of the diner that he grabbed dinner from some days.
His eyes narrowed a bit and he moved a little faster as he saw her. Trina Dixon, a couple years older than him doing what she does best, getting in trouble. He didn’t say anything he grabbed her arm and the man she was talking to started to get upset. Of course the man she was talking to was in a black sedan and looked like he had a wife to get home too. Didn’t’ stop him from getting out of the car to start yelling. He wasn’t the only one either. Trina started to curse up a storm.
Dick yanked her on.
“She’s got the clap!” He called out to the man. Must to be a first time customer because he shut his mouth and got back into the car. If Trina wasn’t ready to kill before she was now. Dick turned back to her catching her hand before it struck his face.
“I don’t need this shit, Dick!” She didn’t need a hero.
Dick said nothing he pulled her on until she yanked herself free.
“You’re not helping.” He told her grimly.
“I don’t want your help,” she snapped her lips curled up in a sneer. She looked like an attack dog ready to strike.
“And I don’t want yours. I thought we decided this was over.”
“You did. I didn’t. I do like I like.”
He knew he couldn’t watch her ever second of the day, but he knew that this would get her in that place she didn’t want her to be.
“Right. Course you do. You do like you like until it’s all screwed up and you don’t know what to do.” They’d had this conversation more than once. She always said she wanted out and now that she was she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to pull it together. “This isn’t the way, Trina. This isn’t going to get Hannah back. They’re not going to give her back. You have to earn her back and this isn’t the way.” And he wasn’t going to save her. Not the way she wanted. Not the way she needed and she wasn’t going to help him either.
She could turn tricks anywhere.
The two of the stood there looking back across at one another.
“I heard something.”
“I don’t want to know what you heard. Anything you heard is…” He shook his head. “No.” Simple as that. His appetite was spoiled then and there. He needed night.
“I need to get to work.” He already finished what he needed to do at the garage, but he didn’t want to deal with the bullshit right now and Trina brought mounds of it. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything to one another. That’s the way it was. What happened, happened and they didn’t talk about. They didn’t relive it. They just went on about their business.
“Syracusa’s back in town, Dick.” It was enough to make him stop, enough to make him turn but only for a second.
“He’s got a game tonight. The Pelican Club Heard it’s a big deal, but it’s Tony. So that can mean anything.” Dick said nothing. He knew what she was telling him, but she didn’t know what it meant to him. He turned back and headed back to Ray’s willing for night to come faster more than ever now.
~~~~
Helena was asleep, she'd been that way all day and the sun was sinking behind the pinnacles of Gotham's concrete mountains. Bruce watch it slowly dip casting those last dying rays over the city before night blanketed it and Gotham came to life, its seedy under world that was quickly becoming the norm, the need for a veil of darkness was starting to ebb and would have already if it weren't for Batman. And still he fretted over leaving Helena alone in this condition, Alfred had assured him many times that she would be just fine and that rest would eventually restore her but Bruce was still loathe to leave her until he knew for sure. The antidote he had used was experimental and not always completely effective, logically, he knew that if it were going to go wrong, it would have already. But he could shake the nagging feeling even as he tore his eyes away from Helena's sleeping form, the slow rise and fall of her breathing moving the blankets she was curled underneath.
No, he couldn't shake the nagging feelings, not even as he turned away from Helena and the dying sun to walk towards the Batcave and the black suit that was more him than Bruce Wayne. He ran a hand through his hair and stifled a yawn and as he reached the wall that opened into a winding staircase he saw Alfred from the peripheral, he cleared his throat and Bruce looked to him.
"What's on your mind, Alfred?" he asked, knowing the look all too well.
"Master Bruce" Alfred began ushering him a way from the Batcave and into a sitting room - one of many - Bruce complied and seated himself in a plush leather chair, Alfred chose to stand, posture perfect, shoulders back, he always carried an air of pride. There was no one Bruce respected more. "Master Bruce, you remember some time ago, the Grayson killings..." Alfred began slowly easing Bruce into what Alfred knew would be a somewhat delicate topic with him.
"Of course." Bruce said in a dead pan, how could he forget? The entire family had worked for him, well, those old enough at any rate. The only other commonality was that they had all been killed in what the papers had dubbed the Grayson massacre, which in any other city, would have garnered headlines for months. "It's not an easy memory to forget. what about it?" he added, eyeing the man whom had truly molded him.
"It seems the young Grayson, the sole survivor has... How shall I put this? Run away, for lack of a better word." Bruce could tell Alfred was going to suggest something he wouldn't have considered otherwise and he was bracing himself for the other shoe to drop.
"I offered his foster family better means to support the kid. They made some pretty hefty guarantees in exchange" Bruce said frowning.
"yes, that's true, Master Bruce, as it were, it is from time to time, not as simple as throwing money at it. the problem, I mean."
Bruce sighed, Alfred was always so goddamn right. it cause him no end of irritation, but in the end, he always listened to him.
"get to the point Alfred, it's getting late and I still haven't heard back from Huntress, I'm starting to suspect Punchinello go to her first" or she was sleeping in his bed... One or the other. 'So what is this problem? Social services should be handling it."
"well, as I said Master Bruce, there are times a problem requires more direct attention. I had a call you see, social services won't take the boy back, he's been marked. By those Vercetti gangsters. the ones who killed his mother and father, his two brothers... At any rate it's believed young Richard Grayson has taken to the streets. I took the liberty, sir, of suggesting to social services that they name him your ward.. They agreed readily. It seems they were eager to be rid of the problem.
"Alfred.." Bruce started, not even knowing where to start "Are you out of your mind? My ward? I can't have some pimple face teenager running around, not what we have going on in the "basement". Jesus, Alfred, why didn't you ask me first?" Bruce stared at Alfred incredulously, he was old, but he wasn't senile, nor bereft of logic.
"We have Helena Bertinelli half dead upstairs, half the city looking for her and not to mention every single Italian mobster from here to Central City the Punchinellos could muster. What on earth made you think that here, of all places, would be any safer for Grayson?"
Alfred game him a patient, placid smile taking the seat next to the man he had seen grow from a boy.
"I did think of that Master Bruce, but it also occurred to me that here or there, the danger is no less great. But you have a chance to save a life, not only that Bruce, but ti truly impact it. This was the kind of thing your father did. Not run around roof tops with scantily clad women trying to put your fist through a problem that isn't quite that simple."
Bruce rolled his eyes heavenward.
"alright, you've made your point, where is the Grayson boy staying?"
*******
The Rolls Royce attracted a lot of attention in this part of town, bu tit was still decided more low profile than the Batmobile. It hadn't taken long to track the boy down, and so it was Alfred and Bruce Wayne found themselves on the wrong side of the tracks pulling up to a run down (but well maintained) mechanic's garage. Alfred parked by the curb and Bruce slid from the back seat, Alfred joining him.
A man in a blue jump suit came around the building wiping his oily hands on rag.
"I help you two?" the mechanic asked somewhat skeptically. Bruce's eyes scanned the sign hanging above the door.
"You must be Ray. I'm Bruce Wayne and" Bruce motioned to Alfred "This is Alfred Pennyworth. Social Services contacted me and said I might find Richard Grayson at this address."
~~~~
“Social Services.” Ray rubbed the back of his head for a moment trying to get his story together. “I don’t know what you heard from them. Dick works here.” He was pretty sure Dick wasn’t going to be happy as he was supposed to be living with the Sharon and Ronnie. Seems that someone was checking up on the kid. Ray would say that was a good thing someone gave a damn, but he didn’t know what the Prince of Gotham was doing here. That’s what they called Wayne. He’d shake the man’s hand, but he’s probably dirty it up.
“Let me see if I can go find him. Dick ain’t caused you any trouble has he?” Doubtful, but Ray wanted to know. Walking towards the stairs that lead up to the upper level he cupped a hand around his mouth and called out for Dick.
Dick, who had gotten his work done and was ready to look towards other things. He already began sliding out the things that he was going to need. One could never be too sure but he laid out the dark coveralls and the steel toed boots. He pulled the locked box of things that he would be needing as well. He would have to make sure that Ray was ok. After this was over he would probably need to move. He might even need to leave the city. That’s if it all went bad, but if it went well just move.
He meant to make sure that he talked to Syracusa tonight, but before he could reach for the keys to the bike he would be using tonight he heard voices downstairs. He moved towards the window to see who was out there. If it was someone coming for a job Ray was going to have to work on it himself. Dick wasn’t working the rest of the night. He had other work that needed to be seen to.
Assuming that Ray was able to attend to Dick was about to turn when he saw the man step out of the car he was certain that he had seen him before. It took a moment but he remembered the papers even more he remembered the man. He didn’t know why Wayne was here he was certain that the man could afford for someone to come to him and while he and Ray did good work he didn’t think it was that good.
Regardless Dick turned back to getting his things together when Ray’s voice called out for him from below.
“Damn it.” He muttered on his breath. He moved to his feet slowly and left the room beginning a slow descent into the garage.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs Dick looked towards Ray then towards the new arrivals. “Ray, I was planning to head out in a few. I can’t take another job. I’m sorry, but can you come back tomorrow? We’re about to shut down for the evening. Ray thinks I’m a miracle worker, but I gotta eat. Gotta sleep you know. Summer’s just about gone.” He glanced towards Bruce then towards the driver.
Really? He travels with a butler he thought.
~~~~
"No, nothing like that." Bruce assured him, his hand stuck out but ray chose not to shake it, he looked to Alfred who merely shrugged. "His parents worked for me, and my father before me. I just want to check in.." he continued, but trailed off as Ray bellowed up the stairs and Richard Grayson came down slowly, skeptical eyes regarding the pair with suspicion. Bruce wasn't the smiling type, but Alfred had enough for both of them.
"Richard?" Bruce asked before taking a step forward and holding out his hand. "I'm Bruce Wayne and this Alfred Pennyworth, my -"
"Conscience." Alfred interrupted.
"Right. Social Services called me today. I know you're unaware of this but he's, Alfred, been checking in on your progress from time to time.. Your parents..." Bruce hesitated, not wanting to tear the scab from the wound. "They worked for me and my father before. He always spoke very highly of the flying Graysons.
"But I'm not here to flatter you, Richard. Social Services called and made it known the foster family you were with seems to have abandoned the house they own and they had guessed you took to the streets" Bruce's eyes wandered the building Grayson called home, he'd done well for himself, for his age and situation. Bruce wouldn't know how he would have fared if it weren't for Alfred and the millions left to him. Alfred was right. He should have taken a more direct hand in this and it should have been much sooner.
"I'm also not here to berate you. It looks like you've done really well for yourself, I can admire a self sufficient man. Which is why I came to make you an offer."
Bruce looked to Alfred for support who gave a barely visible, brief nod.
"Alfred thought I should take you on as my ward. I know you've had some... Trouble. And I can put you out of harm's reach. You're the last of your family, Richard. I don't want to see you go the way your parents did, and mine as well."
~~~~
Did he look skeptical? Probably, because there was always something. People didn’t just show up out of the blue like this. He would have seen it come from his case worker, but Wayne and his butler? That was a little odd, ok more than a little odd. It wasn’t something that was normal, at least not from his perspective. However the way they were standing here it seemed that Dick wasn’t completely in the know which meant that there was a little more going on here than meets the eye. He furrowed his brows when Wayne began speaking.
Ray looked from Dick to Wayne and Aflred. He wasn’t sure what to say if he should say anything, so he didn’t. He didn’t want to cause problems and Dick didn’t want him to get in trouble.
“It’s alright Ray. They’re good people.” Or at least that’s what he had been told. Dick found himself focusing on several things at once, but at the moment he was curious as to why the richest man in Gotham was in the garage? The moment he brought up the Flying Graysons Dick thought about turning around and heading upstairs. It did more than sting. It wasn’t something that he discussed with strangers no matter how well they knew his parents. The man was a stranger to him no matter how much the butler beamed at him it wouldn’t change what happened or what happened after it.
“Really. Thanks I guess.” Was he a little insulted? Just a little and he was finding himself heading towards being annoyed. Out of the blue this man comes into the garage because the foster units were gone. Dick wanted them gone. He didn’t want them around for this. “Sharon and Ronnie are visiting Sharon’s sister. I’m pretty sure they’ve had their fill of having a kid around. They did what was good for them.” Simple as that.
Then he got down to the truth of it. He looked at the butler to see if there was anything, because he thought Wayne was out of his mind. “Your what?”
“I don’t know exactly what people have been saying but I’ve been making my appointments with the caseworker. The foster family I was with decided to check out. Not my fault. They didn’t beat me. They didn’t belittle me. They didn’t do anything but put me up and tried to be there. They did what they could. I think it’s good that they got out of Gotham. They got a chance.” Was he putting Gotham down not really he could but he didn’t, but they needed a chance and they weren’t going to get it here.
“What makes you think I need to be someone’s ward?” And where was he four years ago?
“What am I a project?”
~~~~
"No. Maybe I just as a soft spot for hard luck cases. In any event, I'm not going to force you to do anything, you've done just fine on your own. I don't blame you for being skeptical. I would be too in your shoes." He didn't seem dishonest, he had no reason to be. In truth, Bruce Wayne wasn't obligated to his boy, and nobody would have blamed him for doing nothing.
" Richard. I see a promising young man, one with a good head between his shoulders. But one who wasn't afforded the same opportunities as most others. I want to give you those opportunities. Wayne Enterprises needs people like you, people who know what it's like being dealt a truly bad hand."
If he knew anything about Bruce Wayne, he'd know that his family was also killed under similar circumstance. The only difference was that nobody had felt the need to come and finish the job. Perhaps the boy had seen something, a face, knew a name, it didn't matter. But Batman was going to find out.
"No, you're no project of mine."
"if I may?" Alfred interjected, Bruce nodded. "young mister Grayson." Alfred began in that lilting, proper British accent, as though weighing the name.
"I've worked for the Wayne's over three decades of my life. Thirty years and I have never regretted a single day. Do you know why? Because Thomas Wayne saw something in a man down on his luck. He made me an offer too, much like the one Master Bruce is giving to you now. Life could have gone very differently and I don't mind telling you the idea of it can keep me up at night. Once in a great while opportunity comes knocking at your door, don't be afraid to answer it when it does."
Alfred offered a fatherly smile and Bruce added one final thought.
"Look, you don't have to make your mind up right now. Think about it. Take as long as you need. In the mean time if you need help, anything. Don't be afraid to call." Bruce was holding out a card with several numbers on it; One an office, the next Wayne Enterprises front desk and the last his cell number. When he had took it, Bruce would linger a moment as though trying to decide if he was going to say anything else.
"I don't do this because I think you're some charity case who I can guide through life. I do it because, in this city... Acts like these are becoming fewer and fewer. Sometimes we need to make a direct impact on one single person's life. It all starts with one person. Richard, you deserve this."
True to his word, he offered a gloved hand to shake.
~~~~
Running his tongue along the bottom of his teeth he nodded towards him unsure what the man wanted to talk about. Perhaps it was about his future as he was about to roll out of the system next year. How were things. Perhaps he wasn’t pleased with the fact that they were nowhere to be found again. Last time they were out visiting with Sharon’s sister in Metropolis. Before that they were off in Star City. They just never seemed to be about when they needed them to be. Not that there was a problem. Dick wasn’t getting into any type of trouble. He didn’t show up in the police station waiting for someone to bail him out. It wasn’t that type of party. If anything he was the model foster kid.
However Sharon and Ronnie just weren’t around on the weekends. During the week they were working and they were around then and then Dick wasn’t around. He was running around the streets right? No he was working as far as they were concerned. He was learning a trade because what else was he going to do with his life? He offered the case worker a smile and knew they were all going to have to put in an appearance together.
Dick wouldn’t say that he had it good with the Martins, but he had better with them than anyone else. He didn’t want to get pulled back into Juvenile Services again. He had had his fill of it and the fact that he was actually working within Social Services it was better. No more group homes. Those were the worse, but at least here he had better control of the situation. He pegged Ronnie and Sharon from the start and didn’t look back, but they were willing to work with him. He did his thing they did theirs and they stayed out of each other’s way.
Social services while it had its perks was stretched beyond capacity they had fewer and fewer people that were willing to work within the system. Fewer people that were willing to brave the streets or even take up for the kids in the system. Most if not all slipped through the cracks and those that did have someone fighting for them usually found themselves resenting it in one way or another because it got them unwanted attention by one person or another. Gotham was drowning in so many problems that its youth was just another burden in a system that was ready to break. Dick survived three years in it actually close to four, but it wouldn’t be four for another two months, but he could pretty much call it four.
In for another interview to make sure that everything was ok he was allowed to come in rather than a home visit though there were always surprise ones if you could call it that. He had to admit that he hated coming in to the offices. The offices were far from warm, definitely not inspiring, gray walls with the washed out fluorescent lighting that had the buzz or hum. They flickered as if they meant to hypnotize. He wanted to be free of the place.
“Of course. Busy schedules and all,” he offered and stepped out into the hall making his way towards the exit. Walking out of the building Dick started on his way “home”. If he was lucky Ray would already be gone and they wouldn’t have to talk. There was nothing to talk about. He did what Ray needed and pretty much let him crash there. He needed a mechanic and Dick did the work. He got money, but what he needed was a place to crash, because he couldn’t back to Sharon and Ronnie’s.
The last time they spoke he knew that it might be the last time. At any point they were just going to disappear. He wanted them out. They weren’t bad people. They weren’t too good either. They kind of netted out, but they didn’t need the type of trouble that he was about to bring. It could happen any day and the day that Ronnie walked out and found his tires slashed and the windshield caved in. That was pretty much it. He didn’t say anything not at first, because he thought it best just to let them think vandals, but then he told them that it wasn’t safe. He didn’t give them details, but he told them all he felt they needed to know. Just enough to give them reason to leave.
The walk wouldn’t be a long one, but by the time he was hoping the fence and coming into garage from behind the thought of trying to figure out what to say or do with the case worker faded.
Instead it was replaced with other thoughts. Thoughts that took him out of the garage and down towards the diner. Stomach was growling and he needed grub, but that was stopped short, by what he saw outside of the diner that he grabbed dinner from some days.
His eyes narrowed a bit and he moved a little faster as he saw her. Trina Dixon, a couple years older than him doing what she does best, getting in trouble. He didn’t say anything he grabbed her arm and the man she was talking to started to get upset. Of course the man she was talking to was in a black sedan and looked like he had a wife to get home too. Didn’t’ stop him from getting out of the car to start yelling. He wasn’t the only one either. Trina started to curse up a storm.
Dick yanked her on.
“She’s got the clap!” He called out to the man. Must to be a first time customer because he shut his mouth and got back into the car. If Trina wasn’t ready to kill before she was now. Dick turned back to her catching her hand before it struck his face.
“I don’t need this shit, Dick!” She didn’t need a hero.
Dick said nothing he pulled her on until she yanked herself free.
“You’re not helping.” He told her grimly.
“I don’t want your help,” she snapped her lips curled up in a sneer. She looked like an attack dog ready to strike.
“And I don’t want yours. I thought we decided this was over.”
“You did. I didn’t. I do like I like.”
He knew he couldn’t watch her ever second of the day, but he knew that this would get her in that place she didn’t want her to be.
“Right. Course you do. You do like you like until it’s all screwed up and you don’t know what to do.” They’d had this conversation more than once. She always said she wanted out and now that she was she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to pull it together. “This isn’t the way, Trina. This isn’t going to get Hannah back. They’re not going to give her back. You have to earn her back and this isn’t the way.” And he wasn’t going to save her. Not the way she wanted. Not the way she needed and she wasn’t going to help him either.
She could turn tricks anywhere.
The two of the stood there looking back across at one another.
“I heard something.”
“I don’t want to know what you heard. Anything you heard is…” He shook his head. “No.” Simple as that. His appetite was spoiled then and there. He needed night.
“I need to get to work.” He already finished what he needed to do at the garage, but he didn’t want to deal with the bullshit right now and Trina brought mounds of it. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything to one another. That’s the way it was. What happened, happened and they didn’t talk about. They didn’t relive it. They just went on about their business.
“Syracusa’s back in town, Dick.” It was enough to make him stop, enough to make him turn but only for a second.
“He’s got a game tonight. The Pelican Club Heard it’s a big deal, but it’s Tony. So that can mean anything.” Dick said nothing. He knew what she was telling him, but she didn’t know what it meant to him. He turned back and headed back to Ray’s willing for night to come faster more than ever now.
~~~~
Helena was asleep, she'd been that way all day and the sun was sinking behind the pinnacles of Gotham's concrete mountains. Bruce watch it slowly dip casting those last dying rays over the city before night blanketed it and Gotham came to life, its seedy under world that was quickly becoming the norm, the need for a veil of darkness was starting to ebb and would have already if it weren't for Batman. And still he fretted over leaving Helena alone in this condition, Alfred had assured him many times that she would be just fine and that rest would eventually restore her but Bruce was still loathe to leave her until he knew for sure. The antidote he had used was experimental and not always completely effective, logically, he knew that if it were going to go wrong, it would have already. But he could shake the nagging feeling even as he tore his eyes away from Helena's sleeping form, the slow rise and fall of her breathing moving the blankets she was curled underneath.
No, he couldn't shake the nagging feelings, not even as he turned away from Helena and the dying sun to walk towards the Batcave and the black suit that was more him than Bruce Wayne. He ran a hand through his hair and stifled a yawn and as he reached the wall that opened into a winding staircase he saw Alfred from the peripheral, he cleared his throat and Bruce looked to him.
"What's on your mind, Alfred?" he asked, knowing the look all too well.
"Master Bruce" Alfred began ushering him a way from the Batcave and into a sitting room - one of many - Bruce complied and seated himself in a plush leather chair, Alfred chose to stand, posture perfect, shoulders back, he always carried an air of pride. There was no one Bruce respected more. "Master Bruce, you remember some time ago, the Grayson killings..." Alfred began slowly easing Bruce into what Alfred knew would be a somewhat delicate topic with him.
"Of course." Bruce said in a dead pan, how could he forget? The entire family had worked for him, well, those old enough at any rate. The only other commonality was that they had all been killed in what the papers had dubbed the Grayson massacre, which in any other city, would have garnered headlines for months. "It's not an easy memory to forget. what about it?" he added, eyeing the man whom had truly molded him.
"It seems the young Grayson, the sole survivor has... How shall I put this? Run away, for lack of a better word." Bruce could tell Alfred was going to suggest something he wouldn't have considered otherwise and he was bracing himself for the other shoe to drop.
"I offered his foster family better means to support the kid. They made some pretty hefty guarantees in exchange" Bruce said frowning.
"yes, that's true, Master Bruce, as it were, it is from time to time, not as simple as throwing money at it. the problem, I mean."
Bruce sighed, Alfred was always so goddamn right. it cause him no end of irritation, but in the end, he always listened to him.
"get to the point Alfred, it's getting late and I still haven't heard back from Huntress, I'm starting to suspect Punchinello go to her first" or she was sleeping in his bed... One or the other. 'So what is this problem? Social services should be handling it."
"well, as I said Master Bruce, there are times a problem requires more direct attention. I had a call you see, social services won't take the boy back, he's been marked. By those Vercetti gangsters. the ones who killed his mother and father, his two brothers... At any rate it's believed young Richard Grayson has taken to the streets. I took the liberty, sir, of suggesting to social services that they name him your ward.. They agreed readily. It seems they were eager to be rid of the problem.
"Alfred.." Bruce started, not even knowing where to start "Are you out of your mind? My ward? I can't have some pimple face teenager running around, not what we have going on in the "basement". Jesus, Alfred, why didn't you ask me first?" Bruce stared at Alfred incredulously, he was old, but he wasn't senile, nor bereft of logic.
"We have Helena Bertinelli half dead upstairs, half the city looking for her and not to mention every single Italian mobster from here to Central City the Punchinellos could muster. What on earth made you think that here, of all places, would be any safer for Grayson?"
Alfred game him a patient, placid smile taking the seat next to the man he had seen grow from a boy.
"I did think of that Master Bruce, but it also occurred to me that here or there, the danger is no less great. But you have a chance to save a life, not only that Bruce, but ti truly impact it. This was the kind of thing your father did. Not run around roof tops with scantily clad women trying to put your fist through a problem that isn't quite that simple."
Bruce rolled his eyes heavenward.
"alright, you've made your point, where is the Grayson boy staying?"
*******
The Rolls Royce attracted a lot of attention in this part of town, bu tit was still decided more low profile than the Batmobile. It hadn't taken long to track the boy down, and so it was Alfred and Bruce Wayne found themselves on the wrong side of the tracks pulling up to a run down (but well maintained) mechanic's garage. Alfred parked by the curb and Bruce slid from the back seat, Alfred joining him.
A man in a blue jump suit came around the building wiping his oily hands on rag.
"I help you two?" the mechanic asked somewhat skeptically. Bruce's eyes scanned the sign hanging above the door.
"You must be Ray. I'm Bruce Wayne and" Bruce motioned to Alfred "This is Alfred Pennyworth. Social Services contacted me and said I might find Richard Grayson at this address."
~~~~
“Social Services.” Ray rubbed the back of his head for a moment trying to get his story together. “I don’t know what you heard from them. Dick works here.” He was pretty sure Dick wasn’t going to be happy as he was supposed to be living with the Sharon and Ronnie. Seems that someone was checking up on the kid. Ray would say that was a good thing someone gave a damn, but he didn’t know what the Prince of Gotham was doing here. That’s what they called Wayne. He’d shake the man’s hand, but he’s probably dirty it up.
“Let me see if I can go find him. Dick ain’t caused you any trouble has he?” Doubtful, but Ray wanted to know. Walking towards the stairs that lead up to the upper level he cupped a hand around his mouth and called out for Dick.
Dick, who had gotten his work done and was ready to look towards other things. He already began sliding out the things that he was going to need. One could never be too sure but he laid out the dark coveralls and the steel toed boots. He pulled the locked box of things that he would be needing as well. He would have to make sure that Ray was ok. After this was over he would probably need to move. He might even need to leave the city. That’s if it all went bad, but if it went well just move.
He meant to make sure that he talked to Syracusa tonight, but before he could reach for the keys to the bike he would be using tonight he heard voices downstairs. He moved towards the window to see who was out there. If it was someone coming for a job Ray was going to have to work on it himself. Dick wasn’t working the rest of the night. He had other work that needed to be seen to.
Assuming that Ray was able to attend to Dick was about to turn when he saw the man step out of the car he was certain that he had seen him before. It took a moment but he remembered the papers even more he remembered the man. He didn’t know why Wayne was here he was certain that the man could afford for someone to come to him and while he and Ray did good work he didn’t think it was that good.
Regardless Dick turned back to getting his things together when Ray’s voice called out for him from below.
“Damn it.” He muttered on his breath. He moved to his feet slowly and left the room beginning a slow descent into the garage.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs Dick looked towards Ray then towards the new arrivals. “Ray, I was planning to head out in a few. I can’t take another job. I’m sorry, but can you come back tomorrow? We’re about to shut down for the evening. Ray thinks I’m a miracle worker, but I gotta eat. Gotta sleep you know. Summer’s just about gone.” He glanced towards Bruce then towards the driver.
Really? He travels with a butler he thought.
~~~~
"No, nothing like that." Bruce assured him, his hand stuck out but ray chose not to shake it, he looked to Alfred who merely shrugged. "His parents worked for me, and my father before me. I just want to check in.." he continued, but trailed off as Ray bellowed up the stairs and Richard Grayson came down slowly, skeptical eyes regarding the pair with suspicion. Bruce wasn't the smiling type, but Alfred had enough for both of them.
"Richard?" Bruce asked before taking a step forward and holding out his hand. "I'm Bruce Wayne and this Alfred Pennyworth, my -"
"Conscience." Alfred interrupted.
"Right. Social Services called me today. I know you're unaware of this but he's, Alfred, been checking in on your progress from time to time.. Your parents..." Bruce hesitated, not wanting to tear the scab from the wound. "They worked for me and my father before. He always spoke very highly of the flying Graysons.
"But I'm not here to flatter you, Richard. Social Services called and made it known the foster family you were with seems to have abandoned the house they own and they had guessed you took to the streets" Bruce's eyes wandered the building Grayson called home, he'd done well for himself, for his age and situation. Bruce wouldn't know how he would have fared if it weren't for Alfred and the millions left to him. Alfred was right. He should have taken a more direct hand in this and it should have been much sooner.
"I'm also not here to berate you. It looks like you've done really well for yourself, I can admire a self sufficient man. Which is why I came to make you an offer."
Bruce looked to Alfred for support who gave a barely visible, brief nod.
"Alfred thought I should take you on as my ward. I know you've had some... Trouble. And I can put you out of harm's reach. You're the last of your family, Richard. I don't want to see you go the way your parents did, and mine as well."
~~~~
Did he look skeptical? Probably, because there was always something. People didn’t just show up out of the blue like this. He would have seen it come from his case worker, but Wayne and his butler? That was a little odd, ok more than a little odd. It wasn’t something that was normal, at least not from his perspective. However the way they were standing here it seemed that Dick wasn’t completely in the know which meant that there was a little more going on here than meets the eye. He furrowed his brows when Wayne began speaking.
Ray looked from Dick to Wayne and Aflred. He wasn’t sure what to say if he should say anything, so he didn’t. He didn’t want to cause problems and Dick didn’t want him to get in trouble.
“It’s alright Ray. They’re good people.” Or at least that’s what he had been told. Dick found himself focusing on several things at once, but at the moment he was curious as to why the richest man in Gotham was in the garage? The moment he brought up the Flying Graysons Dick thought about turning around and heading upstairs. It did more than sting. It wasn’t something that he discussed with strangers no matter how well they knew his parents. The man was a stranger to him no matter how much the butler beamed at him it wouldn’t change what happened or what happened after it.
“Really. Thanks I guess.” Was he a little insulted? Just a little and he was finding himself heading towards being annoyed. Out of the blue this man comes into the garage because the foster units were gone. Dick wanted them gone. He didn’t want them around for this. “Sharon and Ronnie are visiting Sharon’s sister. I’m pretty sure they’ve had their fill of having a kid around. They did what was good for them.” Simple as that.
Then he got down to the truth of it. He looked at the butler to see if there was anything, because he thought Wayne was out of his mind. “Your what?”
“I don’t know exactly what people have been saying but I’ve been making my appointments with the caseworker. The foster family I was with decided to check out. Not my fault. They didn’t beat me. They didn’t belittle me. They didn’t do anything but put me up and tried to be there. They did what they could. I think it’s good that they got out of Gotham. They got a chance.” Was he putting Gotham down not really he could but he didn’t, but they needed a chance and they weren’t going to get it here.
“What makes you think I need to be someone’s ward?” And where was he four years ago?
“What am I a project?”
~~~~
"No. Maybe I just as a soft spot for hard luck cases. In any event, I'm not going to force you to do anything, you've done just fine on your own. I don't blame you for being skeptical. I would be too in your shoes." He didn't seem dishonest, he had no reason to be. In truth, Bruce Wayne wasn't obligated to his boy, and nobody would have blamed him for doing nothing.
" Richard. I see a promising young man, one with a good head between his shoulders. But one who wasn't afforded the same opportunities as most others. I want to give you those opportunities. Wayne Enterprises needs people like you, people who know what it's like being dealt a truly bad hand."
If he knew anything about Bruce Wayne, he'd know that his family was also killed under similar circumstance. The only difference was that nobody had felt the need to come and finish the job. Perhaps the boy had seen something, a face, knew a name, it didn't matter. But Batman was going to find out.
"No, you're no project of mine."
"if I may?" Alfred interjected, Bruce nodded. "young mister Grayson." Alfred began in that lilting, proper British accent, as though weighing the name.
"I've worked for the Wayne's over three decades of my life. Thirty years and I have never regretted a single day. Do you know why? Because Thomas Wayne saw something in a man down on his luck. He made me an offer too, much like the one Master Bruce is giving to you now. Life could have gone very differently and I don't mind telling you the idea of it can keep me up at night. Once in a great while opportunity comes knocking at your door, don't be afraid to answer it when it does."
Alfred offered a fatherly smile and Bruce added one final thought.
"Look, you don't have to make your mind up right now. Think about it. Take as long as you need. In the mean time if you need help, anything. Don't be afraid to call." Bruce was holding out a card with several numbers on it; One an office, the next Wayne Enterprises front desk and the last his cell number. When he had took it, Bruce would linger a moment as though trying to decide if he was going to say anything else.
"I don't do this because I think you're some charity case who I can guide through life. I do it because, in this city... Acts like these are becoming fewer and fewer. Sometimes we need to make a direct impact on one single person's life. It all starts with one person. Richard, you deserve this."
True to his word, he offered a gloved hand to shake.
~~~~