Chapter Twelve

A raging tempest pounded the ancient windows of the Gotham City Family Courtroom.

Today was Monday--court day.

Today a total stranger would decide his future. Dick wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. He'd wished so long and hard to be allowed to return to the circus, but now he didn't know what he wanted. The short time he'd spent with Mr. Wayne and Alfred had been the best. Alfred had even fixed Elinore for him. She'd been waiting for him on his pillow, newly patched and freshly laundered, the morning he woke up.

Mr. Wayne had scared him a little bit at first, but not anymore. Mr. Wayne understood. He'd lost his parents a long time ago, too.

Dick sat at a large table with a nice lady who'd introduced herself as Mary Margaret. Across from them sat Dr. Cunningham and a bespectacled man in a gray suit. Mr. Wayne, Alfred, Mr. Fox, and Pop Haly all sat directly behind Dick. Several members of his circus family also sat in the audience.

Trixie and Bitsy Donner smiled and waved at him. They kept looking over where McEwan and his friends were sitting and would occasionally burst into giggles. Dick wasn't sure, but he thought that they seemed to like Montana and Ghoul. Margie the Tattooed Lady sat quietly with her knitting. Occasionally she'd nod to herself as if she'd just thought of something profound. Uncle Carl sat alone, looking supremely elegant. Dick wasn't sure who looked more dignified, Uncle Carl or Alfred.

The world outside suddenly exploded in a brilliant flash of lightning; an earsplitting thunderclap answered almost instantaneously. The courtroom's dim lights flickered, threatening to go out at any moment.

"God forbid that the wheels of justice might come to a grinding halt," Dick said sardonically. Mary Margaret looked down at him and smiled from behind her glasses. Dick looked away. He was still bitter that he'd been forced return to the JDC. Wayne had done everything legally possible to stop it, but Wednesday morning Dr. Cunningham appeared at Wayne Manor and took him away . . .

****

The following morning a stern JDC aide came in to wake Dick at 5:30 a.m. Dick recognized him as Jenkins, the aide whom he'd *attacked* that day seemingly so long ago. To Jenkins' surprise, Dick was already awake. The aide silently escorted him to the JDC Director's office, told him to sit, and followed suit by throwing himself casually into one of the stuffed chairs in the lounge. Neither said a word while they waited. Eventually Dick began to make out murmured voices coming from within the Director's office. A couple of times he could tell that the voices were raised in anger.

Dr. Cunningham stuck her head out. She frowned sternly at Dick, then dismissed the JDC aide.

"That'll be all, Jenkins." Jenkins nodded and left. Cunningham addressed Dick. "Wait here, Richard. It'll be a few more minutes."

Dick nodded his head mutely. The wheels in his head started spinning. The door from the Director's office led to a short entryway, which led directly to the outside. From there one only had a relatively short walkway to the outer gates and freedom! Maybe he could *blitz* it!

As he began to mentally map out his route, Dick suddenly heard a deep voice shout out in anger from behind the Director's closed door. Dick's eyes widened momentarily. That sounded like Mr. Wayne! What was going on? The door suddenly opened and a dignified African-American man, whom Dick had never seen before, stepped out. He nodded and smiled at Dick.

"Son, would you please step in here for a moment?" Dick swallowed nervously, his escape plans temporarily set aside. Head down, Dick followed the gentleman into Cunningham's office.

Dick hadn't known what to expect, but he wasn't prepared for what awaited him in the room. Bruce Wayne, looking possibly like the sternest man he had ever seen in his life, was seated across the desk from Dr. Cunningham. His black hair and dark blue eyes gave him an aura of immense power, and Dick could see that Dr. Cunningham, despite her best efforts, was intimidated.

Dragon Lady Cunningham scared? No way!

Dick swallowed again.

Facing Mikey and Tommy had been a snap compared to this. Dick took a calming breath and met Wayne's eyes unwaveringly. He was a Flying Grayson after all; defying death was a family trait. To his surprise he saw the big man's eyes give him a surreptitious wink.

Wayne rose to his feet. To Dick he seemed to just keep on going up . . . up . . . and up. Raised in a family of aerialists, Dick was actually used to much smaller adult males. The smaller the aerialist, the easier he was to catch. Dick noticed that his mouth was open and closed it immediately, remembering his manners.

Wayne raised a meaningful eyebrow at Cunningham. She quickly made the necessary introductions. "Richard, you already know Mister Bruce Wayne, one of Gotham City's foremost businessmen." Dick nodded yes. "This is his associate, Mister Lucius Fox."

Wayne solemnly held his hand out to Dick. "I'm pleased to see you again, Dick," he said as they shook hands. Dick nodded, unsure about an appropriate response. He then shook hands with Fox.

What was going on? Why was Mr. Wayne here?

"Okay, now that that's out of the way," Cunningham said without preamble, "let's get down to business. Richard, please take a seat. Mister Wayne here has some questions for you."

Dick sat down in the only vacant seat. He felt uncomfortable in the presence of the three adults. The fact that his feet couldn't reach the floor also left him at a psychological disadvantage. Dick became aware that Wayne was studying him intently, then noticed that Wayne was trying to give him some kind of secret message. Dick watched him uncomprehendingly.

"Dick, do you know why you're here in these facilities?" Wayne's voice was gentle, but Dick detected a subtle edge to it.

Shrugging his shoulders, Dick shook his head, no. "I guess I'm being punished." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cunningham close her eyes involuntarily as if a sudden headache was coming on.

"I see . . . and just why do you believe you're *being* punished?" Dick thought he saw a sudden hard glint flit across Wayne's dark eyes.

Dick dropped his eyes and shrugged. "I don't know, sir . . . I guess I must've done something bad." The three adults could barely hear the boy's whispered response.

"Doctor Cunningham?" Wayne's voice held an underlying cold fury. "Just why do you suppose Dick believes he's being punished?"

"I assure you, Mister Wayne, we've never given the boy cause to believe that his stay is anything other than temporary until we can find him a foster home. I admit that he *did* get into an altercation with one of our juvenile inmates once and he *did* run away; however--" Cunningham gestured helplessly. "You must understand. We've always had only the best of intentions for Richard."

"So your best intentions mean keeping him here at the JDC instead of releasing him to the custody of Mister Haly, the boy's godfather, a man who's known Dick since the day he was born." Wayne's tone could have frozen Gotham Harbor.

Cunningham nodded mutely. She was beginning to feel like one of Wayne's employees on the receiving end of a severe reprimand.

"Mister Fox, would you please . . . ?" Wayne deferred to his right hand business partner. Fox opened his briefcase and took out several papers.

"Doctor Cunningham . . . Dick . . . we have here a court order remanding custody of Richard John Grayson, to the custody of Mister Bruce Wayne until such a time as appropriate foster care facilities may be found. I'm sure you'll find the documents in order, Doctor Cunningham. As you can see, they've been signed by Family Court Judge Marie DuBois."

Fox handed the documents to Cunningham. She quickly scanned them. Everything seemed in order . . . yet it didn't feel right. What would Bruce Wayne, a billionaire bachelor . . . and one with quite a reputation with the ladies . . . want with one small boy? 

"Okay, Mister Wayne, Mister Fox . . . I agree that all the paperwork is in order; however, it doesn't answer the question, 'Why'? I mean why are you interested in taking Richard in? You're not a blood relative . . . you never even met the boy prior to two days ago. I'm afraid that I don't understand."

"I don't believe that you have to understand, Doctor Cunningham," Wayne said arrogantly. "As you said, the papers are in order . . . signed by a sitting Family Court judge. I believe that that is all of the authorization we require."

"Then you have been grossly misinformed, Mister Wayne," Cunningham said. Her voice was dripping ice; she was in *her* element now.

"Gotham State Child Welfare Services has the last say in the placement of any minor children. Should we feel that the placement would not be in the best interests of the child we are obligated under law to file a protest and immediately stop the placement. I happen to know Judge DuBois. She has a certain infatuation with . . . let's just say . . . big money and the power that comes with it. I can call my own judge and have my own court order countermanding yours in less than an hour. Now, why don't we play nice, Mister Wayne? Tell me exactly why you want custody of Richard?" 

Wayne looked at Cunningham, and held her eyes, assessing any weaknesses. He found none. He raised his eyebrow in mock salute, steepled his fingers and nodded slightly.

"Richard, will you please wait outside? This shouldn't take much longer," Cunningham said. Dick nodded his head and walked out of the office. He was beginning to feel like a door prize.

Dick had been frightened by Wayne's anger. He seemed like a completely different person than the one he'd met the other night. Dick had felt like cowering in his chair in the Director's office and making himself as small as possible. He'd been too terrified about the prospect of going to live with Mr. Wayne to say anything in protest to the adults. He'd felt the tears in the back of his eyes threatening to spill.

Cut it out! Dick said to himself. Remember you're almost ten. You're not a baby anymore. Why did that rat Zucco have to kill Mom and Dad anyway? They never *did* anything to him.

"Good morning, Master Dick." Alfred was sitting quietly in the outer office. Dick looked at him wordlessly. "You mustn't be frightened of Mister Wayne. I've known him since he was a little boy. I assure you, his bark is much worse than his bite."

The older gentleman smiled encouragingly.

"Why is he so mad?" Dick whispered. His dark blue eyes, red-rimmed as if from crying, stared beseechingly at the impeccably dressed gentleman.

"Because he doesn't believe that a little boy who's just lost his parents deserves to be sent to a place such as this, and he would like to do something about it." Dick stared uncomprehendingly at Alfred.

"I don't understand, sir," Dick said.

"Mister Wayne would like very much for you to come live with us in his house," Alfred explained.

"How come?" Dick asked.

Alfred smiled. "Because he has a very large house that needs a little boy just like you to turn it into a real home."

"I don't understand," Dick said shaking his head. "Why doesn't he get married so he can get a little boy of his own? He's awfully old . . . just like Dad was, before . . . " Dick stopped unable to go on.

Alfred smiled inwardly at the boy's description of his youthful employer as "awfully old."

"I'm afraid that currently Mister Wayne has no plans for matrimony, and except for myself, he has no one."

"That's too bad . . . he must be awfully lonesome. We always had lotsa family in the circus: Pop Haly, Uncle Carl, Harry the Clown, Margie the Tattooed Lady, the Donner twins . . . the real Elinore . . . and just about everybody else. I miss them a lot."

Dick turned anguished eyes to Alfred.

"Why can't I stay with them, Alfred? Why can't I go home?"

"I'm sure I don't know the answer to that one, Master Dick." Alfred looked profoundly sad when he answered. The boy's heartbreak and brave front reminded him so much of another small boy from long ago.

Dick suddenly felt the tears begin to spill. Alfred and Wayne had been the first adults who had shown him the slightest compassion since his parents' death. It only served to remind him just how much he missed the love that had surrounded him since birth. Dick had tried so hard not to think about that, but now he was finding it almost impossible to think of anything else . . . 

Mr. Wayne apparently wanted to take Dick home with him, and Dick wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that. He didn't really know Mr. Wayne, and his Mom had always warned him about getting in cars with strangers, and after meeting Mikey and Tommy, Dick thought he finally understood why. Now, here was Mr. Wayne wanting him to come stay at his *house*. Dick wasn't sure what his Mom would've said.

Dick studied Alfred's kindly demeanor; he seemed nice. Maybe everything would be okay. Anyway, he'd be out of this place, and it would make finding Zucco much easier, he added to himself. Batman might have stopped the Vigils, but Zucco was still at large.

Dick could overhear the conversation going on behind the closed doors. At first, Dr. Cunningham said "No," but then Mr. Fox reminded her that the judge had said "Yes." Dr. Cunningham finally said, "Well okay, but it says only until more suitable accommodations can be found."

"Fine," Mr. Wayne said coldly, opening the door, "but at least he won't be in the same place as the most violent juvenile offenders in the system. The boy's parents were murdered in front of him, for God's sake. He needs compassion, not jail!"

"I assure you, Mister Wayne, our boys receive only the best care available in the juvenile system."

"Doctor Cunningham, if your comment wasn't so ludicrous, I'd cry!"

Fox followed Wayne out the door. Wayne turned to him and shook his hand.

"Thanks, Lucius. That'll be all for now. Our session in Family Court is for ten a.m. Monday morning. I'll see you and Mary Margaret then."

Fox nodded and left.

Dick stood as Wayne turned his attention to him. He felt his neck keep going farther and farther back the closer Wayne approached. Dick couldn't remember ever having met anyone this huge before, except perhaps Jacques, the circus strong man. Or Batman, he amended. Wayne smiled gently, then lowered himself to one knee. He held Dick's eyes intently.

"Dick, I'm sorry that you were brought back here after Batman promised that you wouldn't be. But most of all, I'm terribly sorry about your parents. I know that there isn't anything anyone can say that will ever make you feel better, so I won't try. Dick, I want you to know that the judge has said that you may come and stay with Alfred and me until they can find you a more permanent home. You don't have to agree, though. There is absolutely no pressure here. What do you say? You ready to break outta this joint, kid?"

To Dick's amazement, Wayne's somber voice took on a playful tone, punctuated with a poor imitation of James Cagney. Despite everything, Dick found himself nodding and smiling in response . . .

****

That was then; this is now, Dick thought. What if the Judge says I *have* to stay in the JDC after all? What if I have to go a foster home with people I don't even *know*? What if I never see Pop Haly or Mr. Wayne or Alfred ever again? Dick felt a little surprised that the thought of never seeing Bruce Wayne or Alfred again made him feel so sad. He'd been so scared and lonely for so long, and the few days he'd spent with them had seemed so comforting, almost as if he'd arrived home.

It had made his return to the JDC all the more painful. Dick turned and looked over his shoulder. Alfred gave him an encouraging smile; Pop looked sadly at him, but managed a smile nevertheless. Wayne just looked at him intently, then suddenly his mouth quirked unexpectedly in his half-smile. That suddenly seemed to fill Dick with the courage to face whatever fate had in store for him.

Why did Mr. Wayne just seem to inspire him so? Why was it Mr. Wayne to whom he kept turning to for approval? He didn't really know, but there was something about him. He just seemed to radiate strength . . . just like his Dad used to.

That was it! Even though Mr. Wayne and his Dad were almost nothing alike on the surface, underneath they were both exceptionally strong men, able to exude confidence. That's why Dick had never been afraid on the trapeze; his Dad's confidence just blazed outwards and enveloped him in its web. He was never afraid because he knew that his Dad would always be there to catch him. Mr. Wayne had the same aura surrounding him. Instinctively, Dick knew that if he went to live with Mr. Wayne, his new guardian would always be there for him.

Dick looked towards McEwan and the others. They were all dressed neatly for court; the boys were all wearing ties and Kat was wearing a lovely sweater and matching skirt. Ghoul looked like he was going to burst out of his sport jacket. His tie looked ridiculous on his huge neck. Montana and Jay Dee looked like themselves only cleaner. Jay Dee had even tied back his hair into a ponytail. McEwan wore his signature Gotham Knights leather jacket in lieu of something dressier. He still looked better than the other guys, thought Dick.

McEwan's warm brown eyes broke into a rakish smile, and he gave the younger boy a thumbs-up. Dick noticed that McEwan's arm was no longer in a cast. As if reading his mind, McEwan suddenly stretched and bent his formerly broken arm. Dick smiled back at him. He was really glad to see that his friends were all safe. He'd felt guilty that he'd caused them to jeopardize their lives when they went looking for him, but McEwan had laughed it off . . .

" . . . Hey, Dick, we got so used to lookin' after you, that we wouldn'ta a known what to do without you! Besides, that's what friends do, remember? We take care of each other . . . "

Dick suddenly felt warm and happy. No matter what happened, he had friends and family, people who loved him and cared what happened to him. What more could a kid ask for?

Judge DuBois' pronouncement almost came as a denouement. "Having considered all of the petitioners' arguments, this Court must take into consideration first and foremost what is best for the child in question. Therefore, this Court awards custody of Richard John Grayson to Mister Bruce Wayne of Gotham City. Mister Wayne, you are being afforded one of the most challenging duties that is the privilege of this Court to give . . . that of a parent. This means that the needs, both physically and emotionally, of this child are now your responsibility. I do not award this privilege lightly. Dick's testimony of his treatment and his personal feelings based on his brief stay at Wayne Manor decided it for me." She paused then addressed Pop Haly.

"Mister Haly, I can only commiserate with what you may deem to be a second loss; however, it is not the Court's desire to be either cruel or unfeeling in the handling of your petition. Mister Haly, as the child's godfather, you are awarded visitation privileges, the terms to be determined later." Judge DuBois gave a dramatic pause. "This Court is adjourned!"

"All rise!" As soon as the Judge exited the chambers, Alfred and Bruce reached across the railing and shook hands with Mary Margaret.

Pop Haly sat still a little longer, looking resigned and disappointed. Dr. Cunningham might not have been happy about Bruce Wayne's petition, but she knew she couldn't win against his vast resources; however, she fought like a wildcat in her determination to keep Dick away from the so-called *evil* clutches of the circus. She accused Haly of only wanting the boy for monetary gain. He looked up at Dick and reached across the railing to hug him closely.

"Dicky," Pop Haly said fiercely, "you know that no matter what, we'll *always* be family. If you *ever* need me, just call or write, and I'll be on the first plane to Gotham City. Promise me that you'll call me if you're unhappy . . . promise me."

"I will, Pop. I promise," Dick said, hugging the man he thought of as a grandfather, fearing that it could be for the last time.

Soon Dick was surrounded by well wishers. His circus family had been subdued by the fact that he wouldn't be coming home with them, but they were nevertheless happy for him that he'd become the ward of one of the world's wealthiest men. The Network came over and also wished him well. Kat hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Dick blushed furiously and looked down at his feet in embarrassment.

"Well, Dick, I guess this it . . . you've got a new home, and we . . . well, we have to return to our *old* one!" McEwan said sardonically.

"The JDC! But Fingers, you helped me! You helped the police! Why do you have to go back? Mister Wayne can't you help them?" Dick looked at Wayne beseechingly.

"As a matter of fact, Mary Margaret here is *already* doing just that, aren't you, Mary Margaret?"

Mary Margaret smiled at her young client. "I most certainly am, Dick. Mister Wayne has decided that Wayne Enterprises has enough corporate lawyers on the payroll, so he's setting up a special division of the Wayne Foundation to serve as pro bono legal aide to the community." At Dick's uncomprehending look, she explained, "Free legal help." Dick's eyes shined with pride.

"That's great! Did you hear that, Fingers? Mary Margaret is gonna be your lawyer . . . and she's *really* good!" McEwan grinned at Dick's eager endorsement.

"I heard that all right, Dick, and believe me, the guys and I will take whatever help we can get to get out of JDC. Oh, one more thing. Mister Wayne is also going to offer us positions with Wayne Enterprises when we're all finally released." Wayne raised his eyebrow silently. McEwan cleared his throat. "Well, maybe not exactly with Wayne Enterprises, but we're gonna be setting up a youth center in the old neighborhood, to give kids an alternative to gangs."

He smiled at Dick. "And because you're the guy who's largely responsible for it, I want you to have this to remember me by."

McEwan removed his Gotham Knights jacket and put it around Dick's shoulders. Dick's small frame looked lost inside it. Dick looked at McEwan horrified.

"Fingers, I can't take your jacket! It wouldn't be right!"

"I *want* you to have it, Dick . . . Please, it would make me real proud to know that you were wearing it. And don't worry, little Acrobat . . . you'll grow into it!" Dick threw his arms around McEwan's neck and held him tightly.

"I'm gonna *miss* you!"

"Hey, who says I'm going anywhere? Like I said . . . me and the guys are gonna be running a youth center in our old neighborhood. Who's to say you can't come visit us now and then?"

"Can I? Mister Wayne?" At Wayne's nod, Dick gave him a smile that lit up the gloomy courtroom. Everything was going to be all right after all.

Epilogue

As they drove up the long, winding road to Wayne Manor, Dick reflected on everything that had happened to him in the past few weeks. Despite the pain and tears, there had been moments of laughter and happiness, because there were people who loved him. Dick knew now that he wasn't alone.

Alfred pulled the limo up to the front door. He stepped out and opened the rear passenger door. Wayne emerged first. He was closely followed by the newest addition to Wayne Manor. Alfred quickly closed the limo doors then hurried up the front portico to the Manor. He reached the door before his employer was even halfway there.

As Wayne and Dick stepped through the front door, Alfred cleared his throat, then quite formally announced, "Welcome home, Master Dick!"

The End

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