Far Away Chapter Six-Sweet N' Sour

It was 3:00am in the morning when Dick Grayson woke up. He found himself back in his office, staring down at an old family photo he had taken with his parents back at the circus.

"Master Richard?"

Dick's head jerked up at the sound resonating from the intercom on his desk and frowned. He placed the family photo down, reached towards the small box and flipped the furthest switch.

"Yes? Is something wrong Harriet?"

"Oh Master Richard-I just keep thinking about that boy and…you. I mean, it was only a few hours ago and yesterday was also…"

The maid trailed off, not knowing what more she could say. Dick smiled at the worry he could hear in his aunt's voice. Kind of unusual, Harriet Cooper was his maid/aunt and here he was her master/nephew. Their relationship would forever be quite an awkward one-but it had worked for 13 years since the death of his parents…

So, if it ain't broke, don't fix it!

"It's OK Aunt Harriet. I'll meet you in the kitchen. We can make snicker-doddles!"

"Oh you!" a laugh followed the friendly jab and in no time at all-both members of the
miniscule family were tucked away in their warm kitchen, baking the treats to perfection.
It helped them take their mind off of the night that had just recently thrown the two for a loop; a loop that took them back to a red and white circus tent.


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Bruce threw himself under the nearest piece of furniture he could lay his eyes on. Clamping the remnants of his thin jacket about his shoulders, he stuffed a free hand over his mouth to keep from whimpering when Dr. Mallory's footsteps began echoing down the hallway. The boy had finally gotten the door open and ran from the study as quickly as his small feet could carry him. Mentally, he was screaming for his parents to come find him and take him home.

-But they couldn't.

Because they were both dead, long gone. Were they in heaven? He hoped so.

Another loud stomping resounded through the floor and Bruce Wayne curled up in the shadows underneath the bed he had slid his small body beneath it the fear of the chase. His long , white collared shirt was long gone and the shredded jacket he had wrapped around his shoulders provided only so much warmth against the shining, lemon-scented hardwood floor. He had to keep himself from crying out or that mean doctor would find him again and-what would he do next?

The boy had only made an escape with his jacket because he had used the remnants of cloth as a makeshift whip so the man would let him go. Of course, the doctor had already been gripping the boy's shirt-so it had come off with a loud rip.

So now here he was-curled up underneath a big fancy bed with minimal dust bunnies for company, in a stranger's home with a loud voice that frightened him.

He was scared. Like many kids, he hated admitting it but-HE WAS SCARED!

Perhaps fate finally saw pity on him though, for when the footsteps stopped at the door
to the bedroom a feminine voice called out, "Dr. Mallory, Mr. Thompson is here about that 'toy' shipment!"

"Oh yes! I'll be right down!"

Silence filled the air in the hallway and adjourning bedrooms for a long minute before a soft voice whispered fiercely, "I'll find you boy!"

Bruce's body jerked, he held his breath in with a quick gasp and a floorboard beneath him squeaked. He lay perfectly still and only breathed again when he heard the footsteps descending down the hallway and away from the room.

He had to get out of here! He had to escape! This doctor was a mad doctor! A mean doctor! He had to get away! He had to go…home.

Except, he didn't have a home any longer. His parents were dead. His world was shattered. What would happen to his home, Wayne Manor? What about all his toys, his mom's jewelry, his father's books? The library, the den? What about the kitchen, where one of his father's maids had left a cake for them to sample upon their return from the movie?

That cake would never be eaten.

And somehow-that made the pounding in his chest a lot more painful than the pain that was to come.