Batman and Catwoman: Family Mystery

Part 9: Red

John chose a single booth near the entrance, in case he had to jump out with a second's notice. As he waited for his burger meal, he thought of his next life plans. He had no job, which he was planning on leaving anyway, but now he had no money.

He didn't want to be that bum boyfriend who crashed out in his girlfriend's pad, especially since his girlfriend worked at the same office as him.

He could make a point to tell Bruce Wayne how he'd lost his job over Catwoman, Bruce would've owed him. But for all the things Bruce had done for him without asking, even protecting Selina didn't balance the scales. John sighed a stressed breath and reclined in the silence of the diner...

...which was broken by clashes of overturned furniture and angry voices of the cooks and waiters. John sat up with another sigh and swung an arm behind him, grabbing the thief's sleeve and used the momentum to push himself out of the booth. The angry voices were now directed at him.

"What do you think you're doin harborin a thief?!"

"Det. Blake. GCPD." John flashed his jacket back fast enough for the waiter to register his belt buckle as a police badge.

"I'm taking care of it," he emphasized his point by slamming the kid into the seat he just got out of.

"That kid stole $8 worth of stuff," the waiter was edgy, eager to get his hands on the kid.

John took out the change he'd gotten back from his own meal and shoved it in the waiter's apron pocket.

"Keep the change," he smiled and went around to the other side of the booth, not letting the waiter talk back.

John found the kid digging into the fries on his tray.

"Sure please. Help yourself." He said sarcastically and folded his arms as he sat back. It was an inherited move from spending too much time in the Bat cave.

"What's your name?"

"Ain't tellin you."

"I'm a police detective."

"No you're not," the kid spoke with a mouth full.

"How do you know?"

"You didn't have a badge on your belt. Ain't none in your wallet either." The kid tossed John's wallet across the table.

"What else you got under that hood of yours?" John asked as he carefully pocketed his wallet back in his jacket.

"Stuff," he gave a short reply and took a sip of the drink John had ordered.

"You a pick pocket?"

"I'm whatever I need to be to survive Gotham."

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Mom's drunk, dad's out on the docks."

John sighed and leaned over the table.

"You need help. I can take you to a good place."

"I don't trust you worth shit."

"Well how about I tell you my real name, nobody else knows. Not even my girlfriend."

"Whatever." The kid said with more interest in the remaining fries.

"My name's Richard Grayson. Friends call me Dick."

The kid snorted. "Some friends."

"What do yours call you?"

"Ain't got none."

"No name?"

"No friends, detective." The kid retorted.

"Great. I'm gonna take you somewhere you can make some."

"You can't kidnap me!"

"I'm not. Look, I'm gonna take you to the foster home I grew up in. I know some people there still. They'll take care of you. And you'll find some friends too."

"I don't need no friends."

"Let me tell you something about Gotham city. Lone, you got the chances of a circus goldfish, believe me, I know plenty how long they live. But with at least one friend, you can double those odds. So finish that food, and we're going on a bike ride."

"Your girlfriend not waiting up on you?"

"She's still at work. I'll leave her a voicemail."

"If I don't like that place, I'm gone."

"Deal. But you're staying a week,"

"Whatever. I'm done." The kid pushed the tray over to John and the ex detective took it over to the trash, ignoring the dead gazes from the diner workers.

The kid was waiting leaning on the bike when John got out, and he shook his head at the boy's impatience. He'd gotten used to impatient people.

"You get the helmet," John shoved the gear to the kid and swung the bike.

"Blue's not my style."

"Got that loud and clear, Red. You're not gettin on without the helmet."

Red made a credit to his 12 year old age by a groan and rolled eyes, but slammed the blue helmet on and jumped on the bike.

"You're a Detective you said, right?" Red screamed over the wind as they travelled.

"Yeah..."

"You ever meet him?"

Red didn't say the name, but John knew exactly who he meant. He smirked against the wind, knowing just exactly how he was going to keep the kid in check.

🏍

Yes, Red is exactly who you think he is.