Cementing the line

Disclaimer: not mine

Summary: Sequel to 'where is the line', because there was this review today and it got me writing^^

Dick sighed, " this isn't about me having a metal break down, this is about disliking the colour orange. Officer Grayson killed someone in the line of duty and makes a call...

"It is simple", says the oily voice, "either you kill me or I leave, take the money and blow this whole fucking building up anyway."
Twisted amusement shines from dirty brown of an equally dirty man. A robber playing the old game of informing the cop how useless he and his moral principles are, just to get his own superiority as an outlaw acknowledged.

The people inside the bank cower in fear, making it all the more exhilarating for their captor.
And this in broad daylight in Gotham on his way to a fund-raising event he was told to attend. Dick feels his mood worsen. He was, as always, expected to behave perfectly so the behaviour of his brothers could be excused as teenage rebellion and not the resultant of Wayne's skills as a parent.

"You will kill us either way?", he asks calmly with a neutral smile on his lips and warm yet calculating eyes. He knows the answer and what he will do as a consequence, it should bother him but it doesn't. It is all Slade's fault.

"Yes I think I will", the robber mocks, his voice high as if drugged by the fear he is causing and he breaks down into a fit of giggles.

There is a pause, the sound of a gun fired and Officer Grayson goes to the fresh corpse to receive the trigger.

The people stare at the corpse and the still smiling cop, that the threat is gone doesn't feel comforting, if anything they feel more fear and they don't understand why...

Sirens howl as the police arrives, the young cop gives them the trigger and enters the back seat of one of their cars, the place for criminals.

The daylight makes it hard to see the shadow of the Batsymbol in the sky.

There a things Officer Gordon never thought to see. Dick Grayson smiling after having killed someone didn't even enter his mind.
The child, no matter how old the young man might be he is still younger than his Barbara so for him he will always be a child, looks sane, it isn't a comforting realisation.
They listen to the story from different witnesses, it comes down to this:

A robber takes a bank and it's customers hostage with bombs and a trigger, Officer Grayson, who had been inside the bank in uniform, killed the robber.

"May I make my call?", speak of the devil. Dick stands behind him, when did the boy move and learned to do it so silently? It is a polite question and he nods, unable to form words.

He takes a special mobile-phone from the office, it might not be legal but with this they can track the number and listen to the whole conversation. There is just something horrible wrong with the situation.

Dick tips a number, they don't have it registered as Wayne's.

"I think I need a lawyer", says Dick easily, no greeting, is this a normal occurrence?

Officer Gordon goes back to the office to give the illusion of privacy and listens.

"Did you cross the traffic light by red?", comes the amused reply of an older man.

"Actually I killed someone", answers their captive in the same tone as before.

"If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco", starts the other in an authoritative voice but gets interrupted by the younger man.

"If your parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, would you blame them? Demand they die as innocents and leave their son as an orphan behind? Would you blame them for saving their life? Would they blame you for saving you own?" His voice gets a slight sing-song quality, like a child being remained for the Xth time to be back at home at 10pm.

"I know", Dick sighes"this isn't about me having a metal break down, this is about disliking the colour orange."

There is a pause and than a deep chuckle," you have no taste in colours", mocks the voice not unkindly."I will handle everything", is added in a soft parental tone. "Don't speak unless you need to and get some rest."

"I know", no thank you for the help, as if Dick is simply acknowledging a fact, and ends the conversation.

"Thank you", for a moment Officer Gordon is startled, the boy stands at the door of his office and gives him the mobile-phone back.

He can't help himself, he has to ask.

"Are you all-right?"

"If my parents could have saved their lives through killing Tony Zucco, I wouldn't blame them. They wouldn't blame me for saving my own."

The words are occupied by a sad smile and a far away look in his eyes.

A rewording of the older man's words and if he knows anything, than that this whole mess is all his fault, figures the old cop.