“Catcher”
Chapter One: Short Pants
Goes Long
Bleeep!
Quicksilver slapped his silver and black hand over his eyes. “Dick, dude. Please tell me that’s from the hot new Batgirl.”
Deflating with a sigh, Captain
“Is—Is that what I think it is?” Deadpool stuttered, seeing the object closely for the first time. He inched even closer to gawk at the sleek, fire red phone with camera and video capabilities, and so, so much more.
Captain
“The first model?” Quicksilver swooned. “It hasn’t even hit the market yet!”
“Bruce promised me a better one when it finally does.”
Side-by-side, Deadpool and Quicksilver glared bitterly at each other, turned on their heels, and showed the Captain their backs—or ahem, slightly lower.
Prince Namor thumbed toward the three. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
Elektra shook her head. “None whatsoever.”
“So, what’d he text you this time?” Deadpool finally asked, leaning his fake gun against his shoulder. “ ‘Out of zingers. Bring some home.’ ”
“Jellyfish.”
Namor wrapped an arm around Captain
Elektra shared a commiserating
smile and caressed the boy’s cheek sympathetically before turning to Captain
Annoyed. “ ‘2-feet from B4.’ You know, he said I could trick-or-treat with you guys, but I’m totally surprised he didn’t send Martian Manhunter to follow us.”
“At least he cares.”
“Controlling is more like it,” Deadpool snapped. “Who escaped from that insane home this time? At least make it someone sweet. Poison Ivy? Even that Harley clown…”
“No one is sweet in Arkham, Roy.”
Namor backed up a step. “Uh, yeah…why?”
“Because you just touched me and
I’m not even damp.” Letting out a soft sigh,
“I still don’t understand why you
let him walk all over you,”
Pulling back his cowl, Dick checked the candy to make sure it wasn’t pierced before popping it in his mouth. “What? Doesn’t Ollie make sure you’re okay?”
“You’re fourteen. He lets you drive the Arrow Car?”
“Let’s is a stretch…”
Wally shrugged and kicked a stone with the toe of his boot. “If I don’t come home, my parents think I’m just crashing with Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry.”
“Diana worries, but she believes I am in good hands,” Donna said as she took the swing next to Dick’s and rocked back and forth. “Apparently, Bruce does not feel the same way.”
“Nah, he trusts me and you guys. It’s just…” Dick shrugged helplessly. “Bruce has been more protective since that whole fiasco with Two-Face and Shrike, and he’s my catcher, y’know? So he worries.”
“Catcher?” Garth repeated, dripping upon the rocks as he emerged from the lake. “Looks like Donna and I aren’t the only ones who speak another language.”
A hint of a reminiscent smile edged onto Dick’s lips. “In order to fly—trapeze work—you always need someone you can trust explicitly, that you know no matter what, they will always be there to catch you. You guys are my safety net, and Bruce—He’s my catcher.”
“And totally overprotective,” Wally interjected.
Bleep!
“Of course this is a difference between ‘overprotective’ and ‘obsessive.’” Dick threw his head back and let out a growling sigh. “Bruce, what do you want now—” His head snapped up, and he dropped his open phone to grab Donna and throw her to the ground as a dart zipped overhead. It sunk into Wally’s thigh.
“Hey!” the redheaded teen protested. “You save her, but you let me—”
Before he finished his sentence, the speedster’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed to the ground.
Dick whirled and looked back at the opening of the park, where black-clad ninjas stood, their swords glimmering the moon’s light. Though he couldn’t tell the numbers since many took refuge in the shadows, he saw enough to gulp.
As the ninjas pounced and darts flew toward the Titans, Dick’s phone under the rocking swing buzzed, and a simple text message appeared, “Where r u? Curfew in 10 mins.”
Three Years Later:
The swing set creaked with age and rust, but it still held Donna’s slim body. The top bar held Speedy as he sat, feet dangling off the front, while Garth dripped next to the jungle gym. Wally stood before the empty swing Dick had occupied that day. The young speedster’s glove fidgeted with a small plastic wrap from a Three Musketeer bar.
She had chosen red for her new costume, Donna remembered, for Dick. Even Speedy, who originally wore a red suit with yellow accents added a green undershirt to honor their fallen member. Wally’s uniform, which had mimicked Flash’s, had changed not much later to a yellow torso and red leggings uniform, and to top it off, Garth added bands of green upon his gloves.
But nothing took the hurt away.
If Donna closed her eyes, she could still feel Dick’s hands clutching her shoulders before the ninjas parted them.
“I don’t know why we come here
every year,”
Things changed. People moved on.
Except the Teen Titans.
“
“Yeah, and Uncle Barry thinks I’m still in the Central City police department’s waiting area,” added Wally with a sigh.
“Aquaman doesn’t know I’m topside,” Garth shrugged, his purple eyes filled with melancholy. “I guess it’s just good to see you guys, even if it is today. When else do we?”
“You know,
this is all the Bat’s fault,”
“And maybe he was right,
“Yeah, and how many times were the JLA down and out, and they never disbanded?”
Garth rolled his eyes and headed toward the lake. “Yeah, but when has any of the JLA gone missing and never been found?”
“Still, that doesn’t mean—”
Donna
squeezed shut her eyes. “We messed up,
Donna’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t lose another friend.
“Dude!” Wally yelled. “Have you completely lost your—”
The arrow flew, but Wally didn’t duck. The sharp point of the red arrow didn’t even graze his skin as it flew past his cheek and deflected a dagger that had been aimed at the back of the speedster’s head. The dagger veered off course to sink into the rotted wooden supports of the slide.
Hardly a creak sounded from the rusted jungle gym as a new figure stood upon the top. Golden manacles clamped over his forearms just below the elbows to hold up his black gloves, much like the cuffs holding his calves to steady his black boots. Green stripes ran up from his calves and met in the center of his black tunic, where his black cape with golden inseams clasped with a golden insignia of a demon’s head. His raven hair blended into the shadows of the moon, which blanketed his naked face and kept his identity secret. In each hand, a sword glimmered dangerously in the soft light of the moon.
“Okay,
clown,” Speedy baited with a vicious smirk. “You want a rematch? Let’s rumble.
Titans—
Wonder Girl
flew in front of
“Because my father wishes your passing,” the figure answered in a rough voice that scraped his throat.
Wonder Girl blinked. That couldn’t be real. It sounded too much like Bruce when he became Batman but lighter, like a boy trying to be a man.
Raising a fist, Kid Flash snorted. “Well, we’re just going to have to disappoint your—”
The figure leapt off the jungle gym then and descended toward Wally. Despite the figure’s quickness, he was no match for Kid Flash, who zipped to the left of the figure’s landing spot. However, the moment the figure’s feet touched the gravel, he kicked backwards, knocking Kid Flash to the ground before launching himself at Aqualad. The prince ducked a slash of the figure’s swords but wasn’t quick enough to escape without any damage, his costume torn across the chest. Aqualad dove into the water, and though the figure wasn’t careless enough to turn his back to Garth, he still couldn’t avoid the water spout that sprayed him. The figure tumbled head over tail, and he only stopped once his back slammed into the swing set frame, his cape over his head.
“Alright, gillhead!” Speedy cheered as he came to stand before the fallen enemy, his quiver pulled with an arrow ready to fire. “Titans Together, Titans—”
The figure sprung forward and crossed his blades once to slice Speedy’s quiver in half.
“You bast—”
The figure cut Speedy off with a kick, connecting with the young bowman’s chin and rendering him unconscious.
“Oh, no you—”
Dropping to the ground, the figure kicked Kid Flash in the knee, knocking it out of joint. The yellow crackle of lightning let out a cry of pain, tumbled forward, and slammed into the gravel.
Wonder Girl stood directly behind the figure, her pleading blue eyes glistening with innocence. “Why are you doing this? We’ve never done anything to you or your father, whoever he is.”
The figure didn’t wait for her to lunge and dove for Wonder Girl. The boy—she could tell now—attacked with a fierceness that rivaled Ares, the God of War, but she met him slash for slash against her bracelets. A kick took the wind out of her body and sent her falling backwards, and as she did so, he followed her momentum. His swords crossed to chop off her head as she landed, and as her breath caught in her throat, as the swords closed about her throat, she saw the brilliant azure eyes.
“Dick!”
The swords buried in the dirt on either side of her neck, barely touching her.
Still standing, he straddled her hips with his legs and glared down at her. His eyes were hardened, his face stern and unrelenting in its hatred—toward her, toward the Titans, toward his friends.
Everything about him—from his stance, to his facial expressions, to his clothing—told her this wasn’t Dick—except it was.
“Dick…?” Kid Flash groaned as he rubbed his rapidly repairing knee. “Dick, is that—”
“No, Kid Flash! It can’t be! Dick wouldn’t attack us.”
Aqualad, Donna realized. She tried to crane her neck to see her friend, but the swords were so close to her skin that it would have torn her flesh to do so.
She did, however, hear the JLA comm. alert sound. Garth must have signaled his comm., each former Titan having been given one for an emergency such as this.
Dick’s eyes never wavered from their intense glare, though he drew a second dagger from his belt as a golden tiara scraped across his cheek, dragging him away from Donna’s body.
“Get off my sister—NOW!”
Wonder Girl let out the breath she’d been holding. If this truly was Dick, then the Justice League would fix whatever was wrong.
Diana would fix whatever was wrong.
Blood flowed freely from the boy’s cheek, and when Dick’s now callous eyes refocused upon her, not once in his gaze did she see the first friend she’d made in the Man’s World.
Instead of throwing the dagger, he simply turned and took off toward the woods at the verge edge of the park.
“G.L.!” Black Canary ordered, and a blaze of green fire burned in the night sky.
“No!” Wonder Girl cried, and she failed to keep the tears from her cheeks, even as Wonder Woman’s worried face filled her sight. Her sister tore the two swords from the ground and bent down to help Donna up.
“Thank Hera that you’re alright,” Diana comforted, sweeping into her a strangling hug. “If I would have lost you, today of all—”
Wonder Girl wiggled out of her sister’s grip. “Dick, Diana! It was Dick!”
Wonder Woman met her sister’s anxious gaze. “What?”
“You have to stop him, Diana! Please! That was Dick!”
*^*^*
The boy was good, Batman observed. Better than Black Canary or any other member of the Justice League gave him credit, except Batman and Superman of course.
Perched in a tree in the forest, Batman watched as the boy fled from the fight, and as if he’d practiced, he turned his black cape inside out, granting him the protection of his yellow inseam. No matter how much Green Lantern would try, he just wouldn’t be able to apprehend the attacker.
With the members going to the aid of their respective partners and Green Lantern’s weakness, that left only Martian Manhunter, Superman, and Batman to stop the boy. It shouldn’t have been too hard, or so Batman thought before a spark flew from the boy’s black glove, proving he could light a fire if need be.
The boy was too good.
Once the boy disappeared from his sight, Batman dropped into the foliage to cut the boy off, but he needn’t have. As soon as he swung on a lower tree branch, about ten feet from the forest floor, he saw the boy’s tunic held tightly by a red and blue figure. The proverbial demand of why the boy attacked the Justice League’s protégés today of all days waned as Superman’s eyes grew with shock, and his muscles eased their tension.
“…Dick?”
Batman halted.
The boy didn’t. He dipped into a pouch about his gloves, and a bright, green glow lightened the area. Almost instantly, a weary moan tore through Superman’s lips, and his arms quivered, allowing the boy to thrust his feet into Superman’s chest and vault out of the man’s grip. As the younger man landed, however, so did Batman, and mentor and protégé stood face-to-face, even if one refused to lift his.
“Who are you?” Batman demanded, his eyes scrutinizing the boy’s build. He couldn’t believe, refused to believe, that this was Dick. His partner wouldn’t have attacked his best friends, neutralized half the Justice League—many whom he thought to be aunts and uncles—and now stood before him, cloak closed, head hanging.
Was it in shame? Was it in anger?
Batman stepped forward when the silence persisted. “I asked you a question.”
“And you won’t like the answer,” the boy finally growled before launching forward.
It was then Batman confirmed the face, the round cheeks, the tanned skin, and the ethereal blue eyes, but they were pained now and hauntingly tainted with self-loathing, even if they still shimmered like sapphires.
This was his protégé.
Robin.
Dick Grayson.
As the relief flooded through Batman, so did the guilt. He should’ve found the boy, should’ve saved him from whatever hell he endured to receive that glare. Instead, he found himself marveling that the boy had actually become faster as Dick pivoted on his heel to deliver a slashing kick. The attack almost hit its mark—Batman’s abdomen—and the Dark Knight realized with a heavy heart the boy had trained himself to lose the head tilt.
Or someone had trained it out of Dick.
No matter how good Dick fought—a punch to the shoulder, a kick to the knee, a head butt—Batman was still infinitely better—a snatch of the wrist, a foot to the shin, a hand to the forehead. The imprint was still there. Dick had trained harder, under whom the Dark Knight could only guess, but he still fought with the fundamental moves Batman taught him.
“No matter what you do, you can’t defeat me,” Batman rasped, the truth echoing in the boy’s eyes. “You’re not that good, and I know you too well.”
Dick knew it, too, which was why the boy used his momentum to flip himself back onto a tree and fly over Batman’s head, granting himself distance. The boy still had yet to meet Bruce’s eyes, and instead of doing so, he fled.
Batman wouldn’t lose his protégé again, and on instinct, he threw a Bat-line. It coiled about Dick’s legs, slamming the boy callously into the hard ground. As the pain and momentary shock fueled Dick’s shaky hands to try to tear the D-cell lines, Batman knew nothing short of Superman’s strength could achieve such a feat.
Still, not wanting to risk losing the boy, Batman hurried to the fallen figure. Dick tried to backhand Batman as he knelt, but the attack was feeble and futile. With one arm about the boy’s torso, Batman clamped his opposite hand about Dick’s mouth and nose, releasing a fast-acting gas. Dick clawed at the Dark Knight’s glove and arm, attempting to pull it from his face and free his orifices. Even though the few years granted him slightly more strength than he had at thirteen, he still had no chance in hell of escaping Batman’s grip.
Slowly, the fight bled from the boy, and he sunk backwards against the Dark Knight’s chest, unconscious. As Batman lessened his hold, he slowly extracted one of his gloves to physically touch the boy’s cheek. The warmth, unlike his sight, convinced Batman he had truly found his lost protégé, and the boy wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He raised Dick’s head to see the once angelic and now bloodied face and knew the next few months would not be easy. Whatever trauma Dick had suffered had pushed the boy to his limits and turned him against his family and friends.
A soft groan sounded from not too far away, and Batman’s eyes spied Superman flipping himself onto his back. Less than twenty feet from the Man of the Steel was the only light in the dark foliage—a small slither of green rock.
Careful not to take any chances, Batman reinforced the D-cell line about Dick’s ankles and shins before tying the boy’s wrists together with cable wire. As he did so, his eyes drifted down to the golden emblem he’d seen but never caught a good glimpse of until now. With pointed edges on the top of the head, two slits for eyes, and a jagged bottom like a beard, the insignia was more than just a message. It was a brand in some ways, a marking of ownership.
He’d seen the insignia once before—on Talia al Ghul.
*^*^*
There were some images parents were never supposed to see.
Behind the two-sided wall, Batman clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched his protégé’s movements inside the small cell. Originally when Dick awoke on the small bed, he’d done inventory, seeing what had been taken and what he still had. His boots, cape, gloves, and belt were gone, leaving him barefooted and unprepared. The only part of his attire that remained was his suit, which cut at his elbows and his calves, and the only object he obtained was a band-aid on his cheek. After that, he surveyed the room for any possible escapes, even found the door where no seams indicated its presence.
This prompted Green Lantern to whisper, “Can he really get out of there?”
Batman’s eyes never turned from the cell. “Yes.”
He’d chosen to bring Dick to the watchtower rather than the Batcave for no other reason than fear. Ra’s al Ghul influence couldn’t reach beyond Earth. That much Batman knew.
“Perhaps he doesn’t know us, y’know?” Green Arrow offered as he crossed his arms. “Maybe Darkseid wiped his memory or something.”
Batman narrowed his eyes as the boy circumnavigated the room. “He knows us.”
“Don’t you have a rogue who likes to control people?” Superman asked, his voice still weak from his battle with the kryptonite.
“This isn’t the Mad Hatter’s work,” Batman grated.
“Then whose is it?” Black Canary questioned.
Batman only wished he didn’t know.
Fighting against the ache in his chest, he watched his protégé sink onto the small cot in the corner, draw his knees against his chest, and simply wait. He looked so lost, so broken like he had all those years ago when they first met, and Bruce promised himself those years ago the boy would never have to feel that way again.
Taking a deep breath, Batman started toward the door, but a lithe hand upon his shoulder stopped him. “Would you like assistance?”
“Thank you, Diana, but I need to do this alone.”
As alone as he could be with the entire Justice League watching from the two-way wall.
Bracing himself for what he would discover, Batman treaded to the cell’s door and put his hand flat against the control panel. Less than a moment later, the door slid open, and the boy’s head snapped upward. His brilliant eyes focused upon Batman’s before he averted them toward the metal tiles upon the floor.
Batman entered the room tentatively but stopped ten feet from the makeshift bed. “Dick.”
The boy kept his eyes trained on the floor, which stabbed Batman even worse than the words he knew would eventually follow. This wasn’t the boy he knew, the boy who was stolen from him.
“What happened to you?” Batman murmured.
Dick’s lips barely moved, and the words never made it to Batman’s ears.
“What?”
“I said,” Dick said evenly but bitterly, “‘Why do you care?’ You haven’t in three years.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?” Dick’s blazing eyes rose, and his hands uncoiled from his legs. “You expect me to believe that the World’s Greatest Detective couldn’t find his own protégé for three years?”
“Dick—”
“What? No type of hemp to follow?
No obscure piece of evidence that no one but you would see, which would lead
you to some destitute neighborhood outside of
Batman took a step closer. “Is that
where you were?
Dick pushed his back against the wall. “It was a hypothetical situation; however, feel more than free to follow your instincts, Bruce, and see where they lead you.”
Maybe the silence was better than this. “You can’t honestly believe I didn’t want to find you.”
Dick snorted. “You have a contingency plan for everything, yet you couldn’t have one for this? Did you truly believe no one would ever attack me?” He shook his head and once more clasped his arms about his legs. “What do you want, Bruce? Why am I here?”
“Why did you attack your friends?”
“Former friends.”
The flippant statement grated on Batman. “You could have killed them.”
“If I wanted them dead, they would be dead.”
A fist pounded against the left wall of the cell, but Dick didn’t even glance toward it. “Green Arrow or Black Canary?”
“Green Arrow,” Batman clarified. “If Dinah was angry enough to hit the wall, then you would have been thrown against it.” He stepped forward but didn’t enter the boy’s personal space. Still, his shadow cast upon Dick, who once more looked away. “Who did this to you, Dick? How did they make you attack the Teen Titans?”
“If I didn’t attack them, then someone would have died.”
“You?”
“My father’s orders are unquestionable. He commands; everyone obeys, including me.”
Batman wasn’t sure what disturbed him more: Dick calling someone else ‘Father’ or the boy’s lack of resilience. If there was one thing Dick Grayson was, it was inquisitive. He questioned everything, which was evidence of his intelligence.
Batman’s silence must have spoken his misgivings, and a wicked smirk edged up the side of Dick’s lips.
“Does it bother you that I call someone else ‘Father’?” the boy demanded. “It shouldn’t. You told me once that you would be my friend, my mentor, but never my father.”
“And so the man who kidnapped you and forced you to fight your friends you accept as such?”
A shrug. “What does it matter to you, Bruce? What did you expect to happen? A tearful reunion and I fly next to you once more? I’m not the person who left.”
“Was taken.”
“You couldn’t stop my father from taking me the first time around, Bruce. You might as well just let me go.”
Batman crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Or what?”
“Or you’ll lose. My father will see to that.”
Turning on his heel, Batman stalked toward the door before stopping short. “Dick, you’ve been gone for three years. Do you really think I haven’t already lost?”
A loud sigh blew through Dick’s lips. “There’s nothing you can do to fix this. You can’t keep me here forever. You have to know at least that.”
Batman opened the door. “I haven’t let go of my parents yet. What makes you believe I’d let go of my son so easily?”
“I’m not your son.”
Batman didn’t protest. “When I asked you who you were, you said I wouldn’t like the answer. It’s because you don’t go by ‘Grayson,’ do you? You now go by ‘al Ghul.’ That’s who took you. Talia’s father.”
This time, Dick didn’t answer, and Batman didn’t think he would. He exited the room, leaving the boy alone to his own devices. As he came about the corridor and turned to see the Justice League, Green Arrow stalked up to Batman and pointed a hand into his face. “If your kid goes after Speedy one more time—”
“He won’t,” Batman said factually as he looked once more into the cell. “He’s going to try to escape.”
“How do you know?” Flash asked, leaning against the window.
Batman glared into the room. “It’s what I taught him to do.”
Sure enough, two hours later and when only Wonder Woman, Superman, and Batman remained, Dick crept off his bed. The boy hunched over on the floor, and dry heaves wracked his timid body.
“What’s he doing?” Superman asked.
Batman fought to keep the pride from his face. “Trying to escape.”
Finally, a small, lighter-like device sloshed onto the floor in a pool of saliva, and Dick threw the machine up fast to blow the single light in the middle of the cell. Without lights, any number of activities could occur, all of them resulting in an empty cell and a boy missing for another three years.
Not this time, Batman vowed as he dashed about the corner and toward the entrance of the cell. Never again.
Just before he reached it, the cell door blew off its hinges, and Dick dove through the smoke, lunging at Bruce. The older man leaned to the side and brought his knee up to keep the boy back, but Dick flipped over the appendage, his lithe hand swiping a few items from Batman’s belt as he passed. Batman realized what they were a second before Dick broke them against the floor at Superman and Wonder Woman’s feet.
Smoke bombs.
As the smoke consumed Dick’s body, parental panic at once seized the Dark Knight, and he dashed after the boy, dissipating the smoke with a few flaps of his cape. Dick didn’t get too far. Less than twenty feet away the boy halted, shock paralyzing his escape. Before him stood Black Canary and Green Arrow, each holding a hand upon a younger female’s shoulders. Dressed in a sleek black suit, the tanned woman with long, brown hair granted the boy a tiny smile, and she opened her arms.
“Hello, brother,” Talia al Ghul greeted.
“Sister!” Dick lunged himself into her warm embrace and clamped his arms about her slender torso. “You came!”
“Of course I came. I was concerned when you did not return.”
Talia al Ghul? Sister? Enough of this, Batman decided. He strode forward to glare at the slightly younger female.
“What is the meaning of this, Talia?” he demanded.
The Daughter of the Demon refused to return his request and instead, curled her arms about the boy tighter and planted a gentle kiss on raven mop.
“Father and I feared for your safety, Richard. Thankfully, you are unharmed.”
“Bruce won’t let me leave, though.”
Now, her arms loosened, but she kept a hand cradling his cheek. “My Beloved is very stubborn. You know this better than I.” She scrutinized Batman with her dark eyes, which perked her lips into a smirk. “It is good to see you again, Bruce. It would be best if we spoke privately.”
Dick raised his chin in a royal motion. “Whatever you have to say, Sister, I wish to hear.”
A bright grin warmed her face. “Perhaps, but allow me to enjoy your innocence a while longer.”
A look, one Batman couldn’t decipher, flashed through the boy’s expression before he averted his eyes and wouldn’t meet Batman’s again.
*^*^*^
“My father is Ra’s al Ghul,” Talia began, standing before the small table in the monitor womb of the watchtower. Batman stood to her right, his arms crossed, his face impassive. Superman and Wonder Woman sat at the computer console just behind him, while Flash, Green Arrow, and Black Canary listened attentively from the left. Martian Manhunter and Aquaman volunteered to stay with Dick, who now occupied the Justice League conference room. As telepaths, they would be able to ascertain the boy’s plans and potential actions before the others.
“ ‘The Demon’s Head,’ ” Bruce translated from Arabic. “I thought he was only a legend.”
“He is as real as you or me, Beloved.”
“Reports say he has been alive for hundreds of years.”
“By using the powers of the Lazarus Pits, my father has been able to cheat death for more than four hundred years. However, the Lazarus Pits have their limitations and cannot be used indefinitely.”
Batman’s face grew grimmer with every passing word she spoke. Everything she said agreed with what he had heard, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He wasn’t the only one. Superman crossed his arms over his shield. “What is your father’s connection to Dick Grayson?”
Talia met the question forthwith, “You must understand, my father originally wanted you, Beloved, for his heir. After my meeting with you in the Nanda Parabet, he and I knew that could not come to pass.”
“Have you even met this Ra’s al Ghul?” Flash asked Batman.
“Never,” Batman growled.
Talia held her hands behind her back and shifted her weight from one heel to another. “But he knows you. He knows you better than you know yourself, and thus, he knew you would not take his offer to become his heir. Yet Father had studied Richard in conjunction with you and saw the boy’s potential. He also knew Richard’s age would allow us some…assurances.”
Green Arrow snorted. “Lady, what you really mean is—he’s still young enough to be controlled.”
“My father believed his heir would be—shall we say—better equipped for the future and loyal to my father’s mission if he were to be raised by my father and me rather than acquired from outside our world.”
“Why did he have to take my ‘heir’? Why aren’t you his ‘heir’?” Batman demanded.
“My father does not recognize me as such. He seeks a man to run his empire and eventually the world. He originally hoped for my lover to be that person, but that was not to come to pass. And you seem to keep forgetting Richard,” Talia murmured, entering Batman’s personal space. “We gave him a family, one he desperately craved.”
“He already had a family,” Flash seethed through clenched teeth.
“Did he?” Talia kept her stare trained on the Dark Knight and reached upward to cup his cheek. “You gave him a room in your house, a place in your personal crusade, but can you tell me this, Beloved? Just what is a ‘ward’? Young Richard asked me the same question less than a year ago.”
He snatched her hand fast and twisted it until pain seared through her arm. “What did you do to him, Talia? Dick wouldn’t have joined you willingly.”
“No, that is true.” With one thrust, she freed her hand and took a step back, rubbing the appendage absently. “However, my father does not take ‘no’ lightly, and everyone, Detective, everyone has a breaking point. It is just a matter of when rather than what.”
Batman pushed the realization away. He knew Dick would have fought. He knew for Dick to have joined Ra’s’s own crusade, torture would have been administered, but actually knowing it and knowing he was responsible for the boy being in that situation stabbed his heart with a pain he hadn’t felt since he saw the boy’s parents fall at the circus.
Never again, he promised himself. Never again would he allow that to happen to his boy.
“You will not take him again, Talia,” he proclaimed and knew with the power in the room, he could make such a declaration.
“I knew the outcome before I ever came here, Beloved. You may keep Richard for as long as you are able, but I must talk to him.”
Superman stood. “No.”
Talia ignored the alien. “It is your choice as always, Bruce, but Richard will not stay unless I command him to. He will believe himself in defiance of my father, and he is in enough danger from the League of Assassins as it is.”
“What for?” demanded Black Canary.
Talia glanced over her shoulder as she headed toward the door. “Richard was supposed to kill those called the Teen Titans. Call it a training session if you wish. By not doing so, he has failed my father, and Beloved, Father will not tolerate failure.”
“Your father will never get the chance for retribution,” Batman promised.
“But you do not see what now is. Be forewarned.” Talia met Bruce’s eyes, her own glimmering with a twinge of pity. “Richard is not your little Robin anymore.”
*^*^*
It hurt more than Batman wanted to admit that Dick sat in Superman’s chair when they reentered the Round Table room. Still without boots, gloves, and cape, he hitched his bare feet onto the chair between Martian Manhunter and Aquaman. Both left their seats as Talia came forward, and Batman watched closely as she fell to her knees and grabbed the boy’s feet warmly. Dick protested when his “sister” explained the situation, and though no tears actually trickled down his cheeks, his eyes glistened in the light. He averted them, but Talia quickly focused them back on hers with a hand upon his chin. Beckoning him into her arms, she held him tightly for what seemed like an eternity before they broke, and he watched her leave through haunted and melancholy eyes.
It was then that Batman, as Dick avoided his gaze and held his legs a little tighter, recognized the look in the boy’s eyes. Dick was afraid—of him.
To Be Continued…