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Dick Grayson had always loved the spotlight. First he loved it on his parents. Loved seeing them bask in it. Loved knowing that they performed their best under it.
There wasn’t a lot from when he was very young that he remembered, but he had one thing that always came to mind when he found himself in front of cameras and reporters. The night when his parents premiered the Flying Graysons. He could see it like he was there, the lights, cameras, and people. So many people.
People that filled the big top. People that flooded his parents for questions and pictures. And reporters, every one pressing them to give a statement, and tell them what their future plans were.
His father had picked him up from where he’d been clinging to their legs, afraid of the crush of men and women around them, and hoised him onto his shoulders with a grin. “Future plans? Family of course. You just wait, in a few years our show’ll be even bigger with a third addition.”
There were lights now. And cameras. And people. More people than had been there that night. But it wasn’t pride filling Dick’s chest, it was fear. The same fear across the faces of the people huddled around the executive room in the Wayne Enterprises tower.
“I wish they’d go away, their only giving him what he wants.” Tim muttered from beside Dick, he was glaring at one of the televisions above them.
On it played live coverage from outside the building, cut with live footage from the room they were being held in. Tim speculated that it was the gunman who’d hacked the footage as a way to keep the media and police in check. Outside, hundreds of people crowded behind police barriers trying to get a better look at the chaos going on inside. News reporters, police, and anyone with a press badge crowded the area in front of the building, police in front, reporters behind them. Everyone was watching and waiting. Across the bottom of the screen ran a bar detailing out the facts. Hostage situation at Wayne Enterprises. Unknown number of hostages. At least ten injuries. Five confirmed gunmen. One crazy man on a mission.
Maybe it didn’t say crazy man on a mission, but it should. Or maybe it should say desperate. Dick had seen his eyes when he’d taken their phones and told everyone to sit with their backs against the walls. There hadn’t been anger or fear or confidence there, but desperation. As if he were as much a victim of the situation as they were.
“I’m pretty sure what he wants is in here.” Dick whispered back.
“You know what I mean. They’re taking the attention away from what he’s really here for.” Tim hissed back.
Dick watched as one of their guards passed by, gun relaxed in his hands, face covered with a ski mask, confident that he wasn’t going to have any more trouble beyond the first few attempts an hour earlier.
“What are they here for?” Dick asked, when he knew they were out of earshot.
They’d been there long enough to have found whatever they were looking for, and as far as he could tell it wasn’t to ransom the people in the building. At least the news bulletin had never listed it as a reason, so far even the reporters didn’t seem to know what was going on.
Tim shot him a look, a bit surprised. “I keep forgetting you don’t keep up with everything we do. WE’s got a prototype cloaking device brought in for presentation today. We’re lucky B was running late today.”
Bruce. He had to be somewhere down in the crowd. He’d probably forced his way through the police to stand by Gordon and demand something happen. Their positions should have been flipped. Alfred was playing chauffeur for the day, first taking Bruce to his meeting, then Damian and Dick to a movie. Except it didn’t happen that way. They’d stopped at Wayne Enterprises and Dick had gone in instead of Bruce. He’d been stuck on a call, voice rising and falling as he tried to work out whatever problem was big enough it came between him and another meeting.
Dick decided to take the time to visit Tim, already floors above them, getting ready for the same meeting. Damian refused to go, attention locked on the game on his phone Steph had talked him into trying.
Dick had the worst timing. The moment he found his brother everything went crazy. And this is what had come of it.
“So why haven’t they gotten it yet?” Dick asked, eyes following a second guard as he paused near a businessman.
“Security, I’m sure. It’s locked up pretty tight.” Tim replied, eyes also on the guard.
He moved after a moment and both men relaxed a bit. It had been a long hour, and the tension in the room was growing.
Tim frowned. “The problem is, I don’t even know how they found out about it. Only executives were told, and the prototype was moved in under cover and under a different name.”
The double doors leading into the room swung open and the ringleader walked in, turning everyone’s attention to him. He wasn’t as covered as the other men were, a domino the only thing masking his face. And not a very high tech one either, just enough to obscure cheekbones and the finer features on his face.
He strolled over to Tim and Dick, crouching in front of them. “Wayne Brats.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t have to be, their faces were plastered all over the place in Gotham. News stories, magazine articles, and web pages. Especially the gossip columns whose favorite topic was the Wayne family. Everyone knew who they were.
The man looked them over, focused more on Tim than Dick, before nodding and grabbing Tim’s arm to haul him up. Dick opened his mouth to argue to take him too and that he wasn’t letting Tim go anywhere without him. They weren’t amateurs, not to take over the tower and hold it for over an hour, which meant Dick couldn’t treat them as if they were. So far they hadn’t shown a tendency towards much violence, but they’d been happy enough to push people around and wave their guns at any sign of dissent earlier, which left a digging worry in Dick over the safety of anyone taken to go with them, especially if they couldn’t do what was asked.
He needed have worried though, because the man jerked his head at Dick. “You too.”
He scrambled to his feet and stood as close to Tim as possible. The man nodded and pushed them forward without another word.
Dick thought they were going to move to the basement, instead they took the elevator up, almost to the roof. Dick glanced at Tim who shrugged as if to say he had no idea what was going on, but Dick knew him better than that. He was tense, and growing more so the higher they climbed. The elevator stopped and they were shoved out and into a hallway.
A few doors down a guard opened one of the hallway’s doors. The room beyond it was huge, like a massive meeting room, with windows trailing the far wall and long tables laid out, comfortable chairs surrounding them. It didn’t look like the place you’d keep a valuable prototype, but then again sometimes it was safer to keep something in the open rather than try to hide it.
There was a safe in the far wall, and Dick was starting to wonder why they’d taken both him and Tim when a man opened up a panel with two scanners, each with the outline of a hand marked in white. Dick frowned at it, bit Tim elbowed him in the side and jerked his head over. On one of the tables there was a bomb. It’s red display was already counting down from 20.
“Like it?” the ringleader grinned. “We’ve got a few more just like it. One’s being loaded into the room you boys were and one’s already rigged up on the ground floor.”
“You're going to hide what you took, make it look like it blew up. Make this whole thing look like some kind of crazy attack.” Tim said, glaring at him.
“That’s the plan. Now if both you boys want to make sure one more bomb doesn't get dropped outside and on all those worried people I’d suggest you follow orders.”
They were directed to the safe, and Tim muttered an apology at Dick about wrapping him up in things. Something about if they’d made it so it was just Bruce and he who could open it, but Dick cut him off halfway with an It’s fine, it’s probably better this way.
There were only three men with them, two with guns, and the ringleader, he figured they could take them, but that wouldn’t help with disabling the bombs. Dick looked at Tim a moment before they placed their hands on the readers and his brother nodded back. They needed a distraction, and Dick was more than happy to be it.
He remembered begging his parents to let him perform when he was five. Pleading with them that he was ready to go out and prove his skills, hungry to be in the spotlight. One day his mother had relented, promising he could go out with them that night if he managed to perform their set for the night perfectly. He’d made it halfway through before falling in the middle of his test act, caught only by the net.
“There’s no net tonight, Dick. I’m sorry, but you need a little more practice.” His father said, as he good naturedly ruffled his hair and that was that.
The safe snapped open and Dick grabbed the box inside and bolted. Shots started behind him, before he heard a shout of “Don’t, you’ll hit the bomb, chase him!” and he was kicking the door down, flying past the single guard out there and down the hall. Dick knew this building. Not only did he have the floor plan memorized, but he’d spent a good portion of his childhood exploring it when he came with Bruce.
He ran just fast enough to make sure everyone was still following him. Trusting Tim to take care of anyone they’d left behind and start work on the bombs. He led them in a chase around the building, keeping an eye on his watch, letting the time tick down. Finally he made his way up to the roof, almost by necessity, climbing out with five men on his heels.
“End of the road. Hand over the box and we’ll make it easy on you.” the leader said, hand outstretched towards Dick.
He shook his head, backing away from them, box cradled to his chest. His feet brushed the edge of the roof and he glanced down at the hundreds of people below. Camera’s were probably turned upwards to them now, the one’s in the building had surely caught his mad dash. He knew some eyes had to be on him.
Dick glanced at his watch, five minutes left. A flutter went through the men in front of him. One’s hand going to his earpiece, his face darkening. “Lookout says the doors downstairs have opened and he can’t get anything to work, cops area flooding in. Boss we gotta go.”
“Not without what we came for.” the ringleader turned to Dick, stalking forward. “The show’s been nice now hand it over.”
Dick remembered his first performance. He remembered the rush of adrenaline. The butterflies that seemed to take up not just his stomach, but whole chest as he prepared for the biggest night of his life. He could see the pride on his parent’s faces as they gave him the approval he needed to start. He remembered the camera’s and the flashes, the interviews he’d gotten to give after it was all over, and the smile that hadn’t left his face the whole night.
He had no idea if Tim had stopped the bomb or not, yet, but if he’d gotten enough control over the system to get the doors open it meant at least the people had a chance of getting out. Now Dick just had to make sure the prototype stayed safe. He took a deep breath, smiled at the men, and jumped.
Dick knew the building, knew there was this ledge that jutted out a floor below the roof, the same ledge that looked into the room they’d been in. It wasn’t even a far fall, but it wasn’t the easiest to maneuver either, but he’d done it before. Once on accident, and then a few time’s just because he could. He also knew there was this window on the ledge, one he’d made Tim install for him so they could easily sneak in and out if they needed to.
He landed, hard, and shoved his back against the glass, head tilting up to see if any of the men were looking down or not. A hand reached out and yanked him inside. It was Tim, and he was surrounded by police officers.
The next few minutes were a blur, but weren’t they always? The rush of police leading them outside. Questions about the gunmen, and the box, and the bomb. Then cameras, and people shouting when they got outside. The press of people was so thick around Dick and Tim, Dick was afraid they’d be separated. And then they were out, in a sort of clearing. Bruce, Alfred, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian all with fury on their faces. He didn’t even have time to wonder when the other’s had arrived when they set in on him.
“Your an idiot, Grayson. An absolute idiot.” Damian said, clinging to his side.
Jason’s voice was next. “What on earth were you thinking, Dick!”
Even Tim, from next to him. “Why didn’t you just throw the box over the edge?”
“I- I didn’t think of that.” He managed, and he hadn’t. It probably would have been easier that way, then again he might have also gotten shot. Though, no one else seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Of course not, you’ve always got to be dramatic.” Steph said. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear? There won’t always be someone to catch you.”
“Let’s go home.” Alfred’s voice cut through the rest. “We can talk about jumping off buildings and dangerous prototypes there. Away from the cameras.”
And for once, Dick was happy to be moving away from them. All he wanted right now was quiet and his family, even if they were intent on yelling at him.
He fell back behind the group as they pushed through the rest of the crowd to walk by Tim. His younger brother bumped shoulders with him. “Thanks.” he said.
Dick reached out and hugged him, “No problem.”