The Collector

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dick could feel his body humming with impatience. It had been three days since they'd decoded the information on Mike's flash drive. The drive contained the location of two of Mike's drop-off points. One for storing his current supply of Sleeper as well as his regular supply of cocaine, and the other where Joker made the drop for the latest batch of Sleeper. A shipment was arranged for a few days before the new year, which gave them a week and a half to devise a plan. With some convincing, they agreed that Bruce would go to the active drop-off point, where Joker would be waiting, while the boys went to the storage facility to lock it down. The facilities were on opposite sides of the city; if they all went after Joker, there was a high chance the evidence from the storage facility would be removed. Likewise, if they went after the storage facility too early, the drop with Joker could be cancelled. They had the element of surprise; they couldn't risk the drop not occurring. Their only option was to hit both locations simultaneously. But Dick hated waiting.

'Dude, you look like you're going to explode.' Jason said from the doorway. Dick flinched; he hadn't heard him enter his room.

'I'm a little on edge.' Dick said from his place on the floor. He placed the shoe polish he had been using on the ground in front of him, next to the sneakers he had been cleaning.

'No kidding, I can practically see the shine coming off those things from here.' Jason grinned. The grin softened when he saw a slight blush creep over Dick's cheeks. 'Why are you cleaning your shoes anyway?'

'I ran out of things to clean in here.' Dick shrugged. For the first time, Jason noticed the rest of the room. It was spotless.

'I think Alf has competition.' He said, blowing out a low whistle. 'Can I ask why?'

'I clean when I'm stressed.' Dick admitted.

'Why?'

'I...' Dick faltered. 'My mother always said a clean space is a clear mind. When I was on the street, everything was always so filthy, and I was completely out of control.' He took a breath; he'd never told anyone this before. 'I know it sounds stupid, but a part of me thinks if I can just get things clean enough, then I'll be back in control, and everything will become clear again.'

'That makes sense,' Jason agreed. 'But I think you've exhausted your cleaning options for this room.' He walked over to him and extended his hand. 'Why don't we find something else to distract you.'

'Bruce banned me from the gym until tomorrow.' Dick said, taking the offered hand. Jason was aware of the ban; after finally getting back into hand-to-hand combat, Dick had spent hours practising with punching bags when there was no one around to spar with. After two days of Dick pushing himself to exhaustion, Bruce finally realised that Dick was substituting his usual vices for the endorphins produced by exercise. Dick hadn't put up too much of a fight when the older man had given him restricted hours to use the gym. After so many years of dealing with his addictive personality, he knew he had a blind spot when it came to moderation. But he had haggled with Bruce on how many hours he was allowed; they had a fight coming after all, and he needed to be ready.

'We're not going to the gym. Training is only part of how to prepare for a mission.' Jason led Dick down the hall to a room Dick hadn't entered before. They went inside, and Dick gapped; each wall was covered from floor to ceiling in books.

'Wow.'

'The other part of preparation is to relax and regain strength.' Jason went over to the wall on the far side of the room and quickly selected a book from the third shelf from the top. It was black with white letters and red detailing. 'I think you'll enjoy this one.'