What the Pictures Show

Chapter 10

Dick fought the tight-chest panic that was moments away from taking control of his body and stared deeply and deliberately into the out-of-focus and blurred eyes of himself ten-some years in the past. The photo was clearly amateur but it did its job. There was no mistaking that it showed a young Dick Grayson with blood along his hairline and clutching a likely broken right hand in his left.

"It was an acrobatic accident," he repeated to the officer again for what was probably the eighth time. "If you can't tell by now, I have a lot of experience with acrobatic stunts and that kind of experience doesn't come without injuries and mishaps."

The police officer sighed and rubbed his eyes. "And you're claiming that Bruce Wayne played no part in these injuries? Despite all the evidence otherwise, you're going to keep with that story?"

"Yes! That's what happened!" Dick exclaimed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to not become visibly agitated in front of the people interrogating him. "I know it might seem unlikely to you, but you need to remember that I grew up in a circus. I didn't do typical kid things. Doing risky adrenaline rush type activities is what I do! It was then and still is! Bruce tried to keep me safe and from doing such risky things, but I was still a wild child. He tried his best to keep me healthy and happy! He never hurt me in any way. I promise."

Dick knew how bad the pictures looked. There were so many of them too. Nothing he could say would convince the police to drop the charges against Bruce. Still, he would try his best, advocating for his father as loudly as he could, and, if nothing else, help build a case for Bruce's defense with the various cover stories Alfred and he had come up with late into the night.

The man across from him looked at him pityingly for a moment before throwing up his hands in defeat and standing up. "Alright. If that's all you have to say, you're free to go. We'll be in contact."

Dick smiled and wasted no time in leaving the building and finding Alfred parked out front, ready to pick him up and take him to the Manor. Looking through the front window, Dick could see a familiar face in the passenger's seat.

"Wait, Clark?"

The two men noticed Dick walking towards them and stepped out of the car.

"Hi, Dick," said Clark, smiling sadly. "How are you holding up?"

Dick sighed. "Not great, but we're going to figure this stuff out. Bruce won't be in there long."

"I—the rest of the League too—are at your disposal. We'll help however we can. How did things go in there?"

"They didn't like my story, but it doesn't matter what they think. We'll get our evidence together and the courts will have to agree that Bruce is innocent. I don't mean to be rude but what are you doing here?"

Clark shared a glance with Alfred who answered. "You have requested at the Justice League Headquarters."

"Headquarters?" Dick questioned.

"The League wants to have a discussion with you," said Alfred.

"Oh, okay." It made sense that the League would be at least a bit concerned about one of their most important members being arrested.

"We've been very impressed with how you've been able to handle Gotham and Bludhaven in Bruce's absence," commented Clark.

Dick shrugged. "We've done it before. It won't be a problem. We have crime in both cities under control right now."

"I noticed. You've also done a fabulous job working with Robin and Red Robin and keeping them safe."

"Um...thanks." Dick was aware that he'd had to keep a better eye on his brothers while patrolling without Bruce around. They were stressed and had been acting more rashly than usual, so Dick had made a more conscious effort to up his big brother role. He wasn't sure why Clark would be paying attention to that though. "Is that relevant to what the JL needs me for?"