Exclusive Interview

Dick tried for the umpteenth time to slip away from the party that was being thrown at Wayne Manor. If he had to talk to one more reporter, he was going to lose it. They asked too many questions about his life at the circus, how his parents had been killed and how Bruce had taken him in. It wasn't any of their business what had happened to his parents, how he felt about it or how he felt about being adopted by one of the richest men in the world. He couldn't stand how the reporters talked. The world could be falling apart and all they cared about was the stupid story. Sure, some of them were good. Clark Kent and Iris Allen, for example, but they were just two people in a heartless mob.

"Richard Grayson," a woman's voice said suddenly over the noise of the party.

Dick turned and found himself looking up at Summer Gleeson. She was a reporter for Gotham Insider and she had a habit of getting stories no one else could.

"Yes," Dick answered shortly. He quickly glanced around the large ballroom, looking for some kind of escape that didn't involve outright walking away from Gleeson. Unfortunately there was none. Bruce understandably didn't like him talking to reporters. They twisted every word that came out until it sounded as if Bruce hated having Dick around and Dick wanted to run away to the circus. Both of these ideas were absolutely ridiculous and completely unfounded.

"I would like to ask you some questions," Summer said in that sickening sweet and overbearing voice that all the reporters used when they were talking to someone who they wanted a story from and who wasn't over the age of eighteen.

Dick was about to pretend to have a phone call when his cell really did start ringing. "I'm sorry. I need to take this," he said without even looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, R." It was Wally. He didn't sound right. Something was definitely wrong. Plus he was calling on Dick's private phone, which was a big no, no in the Bat Rule Book. Wallace West was just some kid from Central City. No one knew who he was and no one cared. Dick had no connection to Central, so being friends with Wally was not allowed in public. Someone with a camera and half a brain would see that Richard looked like Robin and Wallace looked like Kidflash. Being friends with people on the Team or the Justice League when they were not in costume was not safe.

For example, how would it look if Bruce Wayne was friends with John Jones, a detective from Denver, aka Martian Manhunter. What was the connection? How could they have met? It was smarter, safer and just plain easier to act like they had never heard of one another.

"Hi, Dude," Dick answered, taking a few steps away from Gleeson who was breathing down his neck at the moment, trying to hear at least a scrap of the conversation. "Is every- thing okay?" Dick asked. He hoped Wally could hear the party in the background and not say anything stupid, like "Robin, want to go catch some goons?" or "Let's go up to the Justice League's secret base in outer space." That would be a disaster, heavy on the dis.

"Not really," Wally answered. His voice was surprisingly sober and lacked the joking quality that was almost always there. "I got in a fight." There was a short pause. "My mom and dad aren't at home. Aunt Iris is at work and Uncle Barry is 'unavailable'," meaning he was on League business. "Can I come there?" Wally was starting to sound like he'd been in a fight. Part of the job was walking off a few hits and the occasional wounds that needed to be sewn or bandaged up.

"Sure," Dick said casually. He didn't know how bad Wally was hurt and he couldn't even ask with Summer right there. She was like a leech. She sat there and waited for someone else's troubles to become her payday. It was sickening.

"Thanks. I'll be by the back wall," Wally said and hung up.

"So who has Richard Grayson's personal cell number?" Summer asked with nothing, but curiosity in her voice. What did she do with herself when she wasn't working? Probably stalked people she wanted to interview, that was Dick's guess.

He turned around to face the reporter. Dick hated having to look up at everyone. Couldn't he grow two inches at least? He was just about to say something smart-mouthed, when he got a better idea.

"Oh. Hi, Bruce," he said looking past Summer.

The reporter instantly turned around to see the billionaire. She found nothing but a snack table. When Summer turned back to get some kind of explanation from Dick, he was already gone.

"Brat," Summer muttered under her breath. Who had Richard been talking to? Whoever it was sounded serious, yet the thirteen year old had been calm and nonchalant. She hadn't been able to make out words just a voice. This could be a good story, if she could find Richard again. It had been hard enough the first time.

YJYJYJYJ

Dick walked quickly out the French doors that led to the back of the Wayne property. It took him a few seconds to spot Wally's hair, which was visible through part of the long hedge that ran around the back of Wayne Manor.

"Wally," Dick said coming over to where his 'brother' was hiding. Wally wasn't in his costume. Thankfully he hadn't come to the Manor as Kidflash. If anyone saw him that would make things harder to explain, plus it's next to impossible to miss a bright red and yellow superhero at a party.

"Hi, Dick," Wally said and got to his feet slowly. His steps were unsteady. Dick went to Wally's side to try and support him. Wally gasped in pain when Dick's arm bushed against his back.

"Sorry," Dick said and glanced at Wally's back. He couldn't see much, just that the back of Wally's t-shirt had blood seeping through it.

He hoped that whatever Wally's injuries were they weren't bad enough to need Alfred's help. The first time he had to deal with the injuries of the job had been when Bruce had been stabbed, and Dick had to sew up the wound. It had been terrifying, but Bruce had talked him through it, and he had had more practice since then.

"What happened?" Dick asked as the two of them walked slowly to the Manor. He was trying to support Wally as much as he could without hurting the other boy more than he already was. The last thing Dick wanted was to add complications to Wally's injuries.

"Mirror Master. I found him holding a bunch of people in a fun house. He kept telling them to get out if they could," Wally said. "I got him." A hint of a smile appeared on the fifteen year old's face.

"You can't pass up a chance to gloat, can you?" Dick asked sarcastically. Wally and he both had their ways of dealing with the stress of the job. They both joked at bad times, though Dick tended to be sarcastic, like when they were on their first mission as a team. They hadn't been able to decide on who was going to lead them and Bane, the drug dealing assassin, had almost blown them all up. The whole thing ended with them crashing a helicopter into a drug factory and the leader of a dangerous cult escaping. Dick was glad that he didn't have to take the blame for that little fiasco. That was just one example out of many mission that hadn't gone as planned.

They got into the house without anyone seeing them. Dick led Wally to an out of the way guest room on the second floor of the old, beautiful house.

"Wait here. I have to get some stuff," Dick said going over to the door.

Wally had laid face down on the bed. His super speed would help him to heal somewhat, but he would need to be bandaged up.

"Thanks for the help, Dick. You're the best little brother," Wally said into a pillow.

"You're welcome," Dick said and quickly left the room.

YJYJYJYJ

Summer was walking around the Manor, looking for Wayne's brat. Trying to interview Richard was hard enough with Wayne looking over the boy's shoulder all the time, but the kid didn't want to talk to reporters, making it ten times worse. What was so bad about reporters anyway? After all, she was just trying to keep the people informed.

Grayson would talk to some writer from the Daily Planet, Clark Kent. What was so great about him? His writing was good, but so what? Almost no one knew about him. She was Summer Gleeson for crying out loud. She was the face of Gotham Insider. Everyone talked to her. The Dark Knight had talked to her once, when she was first starting out. He had said something about hoping she didn't get dragged down with the rest of the media. Summer had made sure she hadn't. She had made her place in the news world.

After she did a piece on one of Gotham's most influential couples, who had been robbed, Batman wouldn't talk to her anymore. She couldn't figure out why. She had been a little pushy when she was trying to get a statement from the couple's fourteen year old daughter at her school, but so what? It was her job to get the story. It didn't matter that she would occasionally go looking through the skeletons in people's closets and blackmail them into giving her interviews. That was her business.

Summer was just about to give up trying to find the little brat, when she saw caught sight of Richard though a half opened door. She opened the door all the way. It led into a hall. The reporter was going to call out to him, but she stopped herself when she saw that Richard had a first aid kit under one arm.

Summer's curiosity was piqued. She stepped out of sight back through the doorway. She watched Richard to see which way he went, and then she followed after him.

YJYJYJYJY

Dick found the first aid kit and got back to the room where he had left Wally. He shut the door behind him. Wally had taken his bloody shirt off while Dick was gone.

"What happened?" Dick asked when he saw the speedster's back. He went over to the bed to get a better look at what he had to do to help Wally. It was bad and going to hurt worse when Dick started to take the shards of glass out.

"Mirror Master may have thrown me into a mirror or two," Wally answered without looking up. Every move he made moved the skin which moved the glass. It was a cycle that ended in pain for Wally.

Suddenly the door was opened and Summer Gleeson stuck her head in. Dick gasped in surprise and pushed Wally's head into the pillow. The first thing Summer would do after she left the party, would be to find some sketch artist and describe Wally to the artist. Then she wouldn't stop until she got a lead as to who he was.

The reporter stepped all the way into the room and closed the door behind her. She went over to a chair opposite the bed and sat down calmly as if someone wasn't bleeding in front of her.

"Well, this would make for an interesting story. 'Richard Grayson hides injured teenager in Wayne Manor during charity party to fund clinics in Gotham'. How ironic? Don't you think so too?" Summer asked, clearly happy. She finally had something on Richard. She could see that the red headed teenager had glass in his back and she could also see some bruises that looked like he'd been in a fist fight. A bullet wound would have been better. Those were supposed to be reported to the police, but she could work with an injured teen in Wayne's house, in the middle of a party no less. It wouldn't look good for anyone involved, and that was just how she liked it.

"Please, Gleeson," Dick started to plead. Of all the things that could have happened this was the furthest from his mind. Gleeson was the worst person at the whole party and that was saying something, because Roland Daggett was there. He had been part of a plot to blow up some buildings on Park Row. Batman had stopped that from happening, but there was nothing tying Daggett to the attempted arson and murder.

"Please what?" Summer asked as if she was the most innocent thing on earth. Her smile got bigger if that was even possible.

"Please, don't tell anyone about him," Dick begged glancing at Wally. What had he been thinking? He should have told Wally to go to the cave, and he could have met him there.

"Fisrt of all, who is he?" Summer asked.

"His name is Jeremy," Dick lied. "He's a friend of mine and he's hurt." Like that wasn't obvious, but he needed to get through this as fast as possible. So if he had to play Summer's stupid game he would. Wally wasn't going to end up on that messed up show of hers.

"Why doesn't he just go to a hospital?" Summer asked pointedly.

Dick had to think fast and he said the first thing that popped into his head. "Because he's in a gang and he'll get in trouble if he goes to a hospital." For something off the top of his head, it wasn't too bad. It was believable and this being Gotham it was just that much more believable.

Wally let out a sight horrified cry of protest. The idea of him being in a gang was insane. Sure he had to come up with excuses for his injuires, but he didn't like that one. Some people at his school and in his neighborhood probably thought he was in a gang, but it wasn't like they were going to put that on TV if he told them that.

The room was silent for a moment. "Well," Summer said drawing out the word. "I won't say anything about this if you agree to an exclusive interview." She needed this. Her ratings had been down a little lately and this was just the break she was looking for.

"Deal," Dick answered. "But I'll have to patch him up while we talk."

"Good," Summer said as she pulled a digital recorder out of her purse along with a note pad. She turner on the recorder. Summer held the notepad in one hand, ready to write down anything the recorder wouldn't get. Facial expressions, hand gestures, things of that kind. "Alright, let's get started.

Her questioning went on for what felt like hours. The whole time Dick was digging the glass out that was embedded in Wally's back. It would heal okay, he hoped. The speedster would have some ugly scars, and he would have to come up with a pretty good story the next time he went to the pool. A car accident would be the easiest lie, but those were reported and someone was bound to look into that.

"How do you feel about all of Bruce's failed relationships?" Summer asked.

"Bruce's social life is his own. It's none of my business whom he dates," Dick answered emotionlessly. He really hated this. Who cared about this stuff anyway? Were peoples' lives really so boring they had to poke their noses into some else's life to get some messed up form of entertainment? Dick knew for a fact that there were more interesting things going on than the fact that Bruce Wayne was currently dating an Italian model.

"But surely this has to have given you a misrepresented idea of women," Summer said leaning forward.

If Dick gritted his teeth any harder he was going to break a few. Why hadn't Bruce picked a diffent persona to adopt when he became Batman? Dick couldn't thing of anything at the moment that was as convincing as a forgetful billionaire that went around jumping into hotel fountains. There had to be something though that was better than this.

"Bruce never introduces me to any of his girlfriends unless he knows that they are nice, unlike some people I can't seem to get away from today." Dick probably shouldn't have added that last comment, but he knew Summer wouldn't put it in her story since it was clearly directed at her.

Summer gave him a nasty look. She was going to make him pay for that. "How long has it taken you to get over your parents' deaths?"

Dick almost jumped. He stopped cleaning a deep cut and looked over at the reporter. Did she seriously just ask him that? What was wrong with her? He would never 'get over' his parents' deaths! Dick would carry that around with him for the rest of his life.

"I haven't," was all Dick said.

"So you don't like living at Wayne Manor as Bruce's son?" Summer asked, more like pushed. She had this annoying way of putting words in peoples' mouths.

"No," Dick said. He was going to have to be careful how he worded everything he said. "I like living here. Bruce is a great foster father, but that doesn't take the place of the family I lost."

"If you had to pick between Bruce and your parents, which would you choose?" Summer asked. She said as if she was asking what color he preferred.

Dick was too dumbfounded to speak for a moment. How could she even ask that? He'd never even thought about that. Bruce was a father to him, just the same as his birth father had been. They each held their own place in his heart.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really sick?" Wally snapped angrily. He had lost his respect for reporters. He wondered if his Aunt Iris did this to people she interviewed. He hoped she didn't, because this was messed up.

"I don't waste time thinking about it. I can't pick, and I can't change what happened," Dick said.

Summer continued with the questions. She didn't ask any more about Dick's parents, which he was thankful for. She must have figured she had gotten back at him enough for what he had said. Most of them were about Bruce and his charities, one of those charities being Dick.

Wally hissed in pain suddenly. He had been trying to be quiet, but Dick had just dabbed disinfectant on his back and it stung.

"Sorry," Dick said sympathetically. That was the last of Wally's injuries. They were all clean and bandaged.

Summer turned off her recorder and put it back in her purse along with her notepad.

"Are you done interrogating me?" Dick asked with venom in his voice.

"Yes," Summer said with a smile on her face. She had gotten the interview, which was the only thing she cared about at the moment. Tomorrow it would be someone else that she would pester/blackmail into talking.

"And what's going to stop you from blackmailing me into another interview?" Dick said shortly. He didn't want to go through that again if he could avoid it.

"Nothing," Summer said and with a smirk, she left the room.

Wally sat up slowly. "I'm really sorry I got you into that mess," he said.

Dick shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You would have let some psycho reporter interview you for me."

He was silent for a few minutes. He didn't want to hear what he had said on the news. He hadn't said anything wrong. It was just that Gleeson had asked some personal questions that Dick wasn't okay with the whole world hearing. Why couldn't people just leave him along?

He hated how the media world made him felt like a charity case. Dick had asked Bruce once if that was why he had adopted him. He had heard some people talking at a play he and Bruce had gone to. The whole evening had been burnt into his mind.

They had gone to a play, The Wizard of OZ. He had had so much fun. It was his tenth birthday, and Bruce had wanted to get his mind off the fact that that had been his first birthday without his parents. He had gone out of the auditorium during the intermission to get some water. He had seen some women who worked at Wayne Enterprices. Dick had said hi and went to get his drink. On the way back to his seat, Dick had passed the two ladies again. They hadn't seen him otherwise they wouldn't have said that Bruce was a terrible person for adopting that 'poor boy' just so he would look good.

It had bothered Dick. He didn't want to think Bruce had given him a home just so people would like him, but that's what had happened. Everyone thought Bruce was a hero, which he was, but not for that. He was a hero in Dick's eyes for catching his parents' killer and for protecting people he didn't even know.

He hadn't said anything to Bruce, but the Dark Knight had known something was off. He had demanded an explanation when they gone home after they had gotten supper at Dick's favorite pizza place. Dick had told him what the women had said. Bruce had been hurt, not because some people thought that was the reason that he had taken Dick. He was upset that after a year Dick didn't trust him. Bruce had explained that good press had had nothing to do with him taking Dick in.

He had felt bad for thinking what those women had said had any foundation. Dick had tried to forget the whole thing, but it's a fact of life the harder you try to forget something the stronger and the clearer the memory becomes.

"Bruce will understand when he hears the interview, right?" Wally asked.

Dick nooded. "He'll understand, but he won't be happy. We don't need people looking at us any closer than they already are."

Wally sent him a look. "We both the know the reason he'll be upset is because he knows how you feel and that interview will hurt you," the speedster said shortly. Batman didn't like to admit it, but he was an overprotective parent that had a habit of hunting down people who hurt his son. Wally was already feeling better, now that there was no glass cutting into him.

"I'll go tell him what happened," Dick said and turned to go. "Why don't you head up to the game room and set up a video game?"

"Super Mash?" Wally asked. They had started a game a few days ago and hadn't had a chance to finish the round.

"Sure," Dick said and went to find Bruce.

YJYJYJYJYJ

Summer sat in her office, later that night after the party ended. She couldn't contain her smile. She had gotten an interview from the son of Bruce Wayne. This was sure to get her ratings up like nothing else.

Suddenly a breezed chilled the room. She turned to find Batman and Robin standing in the shadows by the window.

"Oh!" Summer cried in surprise. The reporter quietly recovered from the shock. "To what do I owe this unexpected visit?" she asked leaning back in her chair.

"You were at a party this afternoon at Bruce Wayne's house. Did you see a boy with red hair? He was most likely hurt." Batman growled.

Summer was again surprised, but she didn't show it this time. "Yes, I did. What do you know about him?"

"He's the son of the head of the Anarchist gang," Batman explained shortly.

Summer's heart jumped into her throat. She was a reporter and she would go where the story was most of the time, but she wouldn't go anywhere near the Anarchist gang. They were insane and to think she had been in the same room as the head of gang leader's son. She was lucky to be alive! A few thoughts struck her all at once. She had seen him. She hadn't seen his face, but did the teenager know that? What if the gang came after her to keep her quiet about the knowledge that Bruce Wayne had gang ties? The Anarchist took care of their friends and Wayne was one of their friends. They wouldn't want that little piece of information getting out. The billionaire probably helped ship their drugs into Gotham for them. That must be why Wayne was one the richest men in the world. That answered the question of how his family made all of their money, but it was an answer she suddenly wished she didn't know. She could wind up dead on the street. No, they would send a professional, and a professional would get her at her apartment or in her office. There was little incentive to go home that night. What if someone was there waiting for her right now? She shuddered at the idea.

"You don't say?" was all she could manage to get out.

"If I were you I wouldn't run that story. Questions might come up as to how you got an interview with Grayson and the truth wouldn't look good," Batman continued.

"Wouldn't look good?" Summer cried in horror. "They'll kill me!" She opened one of the drawers and pulled out the recording and all of the notes she had made. Summer shoved them into Batman's hands. "You know the head of the Anarchists. Tell him that's everything. If I had known for one second that was his son, I wouldn't have blackmailed Grayson. I won't say anything to anyone I swear. No one will hear a word that Wayne's involved from me."

Robin glanced up at Batman. "We'll tell him," the Boy Wonder answered. With the mood Batman was in he doubted the Dark Knight would give the reporter that small comfort. He wasn't too happy with Summer either, but when Batman was mad at someone he preferred to see them sweat for a while.

Batman turned to leave the reporter's office. "You might want to stop blackmailing people. Before you know it, you'll find yourself in over your head in a situation you can't control."

The dynamic duo went back to the window and disappeared into the cold Gotham sky, without a sound or a trace that they had ever been there.

The End