Flyboy.com
Part 2
Seven years ago. Dick is
sixteen.
“Hi D, U on?”
“Yes. ‘Sup?”
“Nothing. U?”
“Busy. Homework. B has stuff or me 2 do.”
“He always has stuff for you to do. Y don’t U just say no?”
“U sounds like a bad anti-drug ad.”
“U use?”
“Drugs? Me no. A friend does. Sucks.”
“Pot?”
“H”
“Bad. U going 2 do anything? His ‘rents?”
“Oblivious.”
“So?”
“So I’m going 2 intervene. Prob 2nite.”
“shit. B careful.”
* * *
“How’d it go with u’r friend?”
“Long. Hard. OK.”
“really ok?”
“mostly ok. L8r—stuf 2 do.’
“he ok?”
“Maybe. L8R”
* * *
Bruce looked at the IM copied to his computer down in the cave. He’d suspected
that there was more going on with Dick and the Titans than the boy would admit,
but one of them was a heroin addict? A Titan? It had to be Roy—Donna was under
the watch of Diana, Wally was too hyper to be affected by the drug—with his
metabolism it would go through him too fast to negate any point in the high.
Garth? Garth was a possibility and was the first of Dick’s friends Bruce thought
of. After Tula was killed it was feasible he’d be looking for an escape but a
short conversation with Arthur last week put paid to that. Arthur had their
doctors checking the kid to make sure something like this didn’t happen.
There was a fleeting millisecond when Bruce wondered if the pressure was getting
to Dick and he might be the one…then he came to his senses. Ridiculous.
Impossible.
So it had to be Roy. Ollie wouldn’t notice and the kid didn’t have anyone else
to look after him. The Titans were close, so it stood to reason.
But, dammit, Dick knew better than to get personally involved with this sort of
thing. They had resources, they knew who to call, which facilities to access—he
didn’t have to do this and the potential of becoming sucked in…
Dammit. The kid knew better.
He did.
But if he said anything then Dick would know his computer and communications
with his friends weren’t secure and Bruce would lose a valuable tool.
Hell. Roy was expendable.
He’d keep his silence and keep a close watch.
A month later
“S’up?”
“nada. U?”
“School. BF is N ass. Same old. How’s u’r friend?”
“better, still messed up.”
“He mad at U?”
“He was, not so much now.”
“He a good friend?”
“He’s a brother. Good friend, yes.”
“What about U? U ok?”
“…”
“D? U ok?”
“I should have noticed he was having probs. My fault. There were hints and I
missed them.”
“BS. Not U’r fault. His fault.”
“…”
“D—HIS fault. U helped.”
“2 late”
“BS—does B know? What did he say?”
“U kidding? He doesn’t know. He’d be pissed, tell me 2 back off, drop him. No
way.”
“U going 2 drop it?”
“BS 2 that—friends/family. U don’t walk out.”
* * *
Bruce read the latest exchange. So that was why Dick was relatively quiet the
last few weeks; he blamed himself for Roy’s problem? That was absurd—that kid
was a mess from day one and everyone knew it. Ollie was as bad a father figure
as Arthur—maybe worse and for Dick to blame himself that the kid turned to
drugs…well, it was stupid.
So what to do? He couldn’t say anything without Dick knowing he’d been
eavesdropping.
Well, fine. Their caseload could increase enough that Robin would have to back
off from the Titans for a while, that might help things a bit. A few months of
that, then maybe send him to Europe on some kind of Grand Tour followed by an
out of state college and by then either Roy would be clean or dead.
And who the hell was this kid he kept IMing?
* * *
“Europe? Why?” Alfred stood behind Dick in the dining room so the boy couldn’t
see.
“Because I thought that you might enjoy it, obviously.”
“Uh-huh. What’s your real reason, Bruce?”
Bruce looked intently at the boy, wondering just how much he knew about his
reasons for wanting to get him away from bad influences for a while. “I thought
I was doing something you’d enjoy, but clearly I was mistaken. Pray, forgive
me.” The best defense always was a good offense. Usually.
“Oh please. You never do anything without having an agenda—you want me out of
the area for some reason and you’re going to some trouble to make sure it
happens.” Nothing from Bruce. Finally Dick nodded once. “This is about Roy,
isn’t it? Ollie’s been talking up in the satellite, right? Talking about how his
sidekick is a screw up, got hooked on drugs and all that BS, didn’t he? And I’m
assuming he refused to take any of the responsibility, like he had nothing to do
with it—he never ignored Roy so he could spend a week with Dinah or how he never
once asked why Roy wasn’t going to school for like six months.” Dick threw his
napkin on the table and stood up. “Just tell me one thing, Bruce—how come the
JLA puts up with him? Answer that one for me.”
“This has nothing to do with our trip, Dick. You’re flying off the handle and
jumping to conclusions; if you’d sit back down we can discuss this rationally
and I’ll explain why…”
“Don’t bother, I get it. And forget about the stupid trip, Bruce—I’ve been to
Europe, remember? I used to work there with my parents.”
“Master Dick, please…”
“I have homework.”
* * *
“Cripes. He thinks I’m N idiot. Thought I’d buy that BS about seeing the
world.”
“Maybe he means it.”
“No.”
“But he might just want 2 get you away from u’r H friend.”
“No shit.”
“D, knock it off.”
“Sorry. N even if that were true, he’s still my friend N I’m not walking out—or
flying 2 stupid Europe on some pointless trip.”
“Maybe u’r friend could go with?”
There was a pause. “Maybe.”
“Ask.”
“Screw ask. I’d rather surprise B N see his face.”
“D, c’mon—don’t B N ass. He’s like u’r father.”
“NO—he’s NOT like my father. He’s nothing like my father.”
“OK but don’t take him just 2 get a reaction—that’s high school N HS sucks.
Do what’s right 4 U N U’r friend.”
“What’s right is being there 4 a sick friend.”
“OK. N U R a good friend. 4 me, U R.”
“U 4 me, 2. L8R.”
* * *
“Really, Master Bruce, one can hardly fault the lad for his loyalty to his
friends. It’s an admirable quality, in fact.”
“If I have to spend a month with Roy Harper travelling through Europe, I’ll slit
my throat.”
“I rather doubt that, sir.” Alfred left to begin the packing. He knew Master
Bruce would require his usual four large suitcases filled with everything from
bathing suits to his usual Saville Row suits to his new tux. They would augment
the supply of clothing he kept in the London flat in Knightsbridge. Master Dick
would make due with one medium sized case filled with jeans, tee-shirts and one
semi-decent outfit for things he knew the lad would be required to attend.
Anything forgotten could be purchased overseas.
It promised to be a long summer for everyone involved.
TBC
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