"On your left Batman!" The childish voice of a small Robin shouted. The colorful ten year old swung elegantly down from the roof he was previously on, his small yellow half-cape flapping behind him and a giant grin on his face.

He struck the gross beast in the face with his (bare) legs, letting go of the wire to bounce off the alley wall to again smack the creature. The beast gargled in some type of growl of annoyance, swinging a hefty green arm after the little vigilante, taking it's attention away from the larger and more tired Dark Knight.

Batman took an explosive from his belt and tossed it at the gnarly thing while he jumped aside to dodge the other flailing limb. The bombs lodged into the creature's back, sinking into the frog-like skin before flashing a violent shade of red and began beeping. Robin rolled to the side to avoid a stomp of a heavy elephant-like foot, now on the opposite side of the beast compared to his mentor. Robin shielded his face with his cape as the detonator exploded, the smoke billowing up and a whale-like cry adding to the Gotham ambiance.

When the smoke cleared the creature was frozen in a standing position, two black soulless eyes staring upwards as the fish-like face gaped brokenly.

"Ha ha! We did it!" Robin celebrated, puffing out his chest and showing off the R that christened him a hero. He sent his mentor another giggle, finding Batman scrutinizing the beast.

"There's still things to be done Robin." He reminded the child, his dark voice telling the boy to tone down the excitement. When the boy became stone faced the Dark Knight relented a praise, "But yes, good job."

Robin practically beamed, humming in place for a moment before rushing forward as Batman took a closer look at the thing.

"This is the third beast like this in a month." Batman said, examining the tough green skin and the goopy, slimy substance that coated its back. It had thick hairy arms and practically no neck, its mouth frozen open and eyes without eyelids. "Still no leads to where they are coming from, so far all of their blood tests have been different."

"Maybe they're created?" Robin offered, staring at the odd creature. It was kinda scary once he got a good look at it, it was a lot easier to fight something when they're being mean.

Batman took a few samples, swabbing skin and eventually taking out a syringe to draw blood (or whatever this creature's equivalent was). Robin hopped up on a trash bin close by, trying to get a better look at the creature's face. The last one looked more animalistic, this one was more amphibian-like.

The Dark Knight grunted, taking a step back. "They don't seem cognitive enough to plan anything, I think you're right Robin. The only link between them all is their mixed animalistic traits and their desire for destruction. The only problem is that no one we know has the scientific capabilities to do this, and we don't know how."

"So it can't be one of the usuals." Robin decued, folding one arm and tapping his chin with a finger like he'd seen Batman do sometimes.

"Which leads us back to square one." Batman growled.

The little acrobat scowled, scrunching his face as he thought. "What if M.A.Z.E. has som- GAH!" Robin was cut off as a giant winged creature tackled him.

"ROBIN!" He heard Batman yell, but it got lost in the wind as the little vigilante realized he was airborne.

Robin huffed as he felt some type of pincher feet clamp on him, digging into his skin and one even punctured his leg. He grit his teeth to keep from crying out in pain, his left thigh was NOT feeling the aster. The acrobat's arms tugged fruitlessly where they were trapped and he looked down to see the ground very far away. Fear gnawed at his stomach, turning to look up at the interestingly Pterodactyl-like beast chugging them upwards, squawking loudly into the clouds.

Robin was just getting his bearings when the beast nosedived, sending the boy's stomach into his throat. He felt the creature's wings buffet them before he was slammed into the ground, some roof somewhere.

He felt the claws release him and he took the chance to escape. The street-light colored vigilante rolled to the side, grabbing for some bat-a-rangs in a crouch. He was taken off guard as he was smacked with a giant leathery wing, his body tumbling to the ground with a grunt and scattering his weapons. Robin rolled onto his back as the creature descended upon him, claws coming up and out to attack.

He didn't have time to dodge or shield himself, he only had time for his masked eyes to widen as the beast's claws closed around his throat.

Robin was near panicking, he kicked and writhed but it was futile with the other claw heavily placed on his torso. He tugged with his hands on the clamp around his neck, his eyesight getting steadily more blurry as he struggled for air.

The beasts' giant maw sped down, looking to plunge into the trapped ten year old's face. Luckily, Robin saw it coming through blurred eyes and yanked his head to the side. His cry of pain was cut off by his lack of air, but thankfully only his cheek and ear retained any injury from the strike.

Robin's efforts to escape redoubled as the beast reared it's head again, but it was short lived. His movements were getting slower and harder to control, his chest burned and his mind whirled with pain and fear. The darkness was about to claim him when an explosion broke around the Pterodactyl's head.

The creature screeched in outrage, flapping the roof dust around and releasing the child to attack this new target.

Robin's half-lidded eyes saw the dark from of his mentor, his adopted father, his Bruce. His eyelids sunk closed and the world around him dissolved.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

"Hey Alfred?!" Dick asked excitedly, nearly bouncing in his seat with his red backpack leaning heavily on his right thigh.

"Yes Master Dick?" The old butler responded, turning on the clicker as he waited for a break in traffic.

The child behind him could barely contain his glee, his face stretched in a giant grin as his sapphire eyes glittered with mischief. His cheeks were that of a chipmunks, but along his right cheek was a nasty streak still in the process of healing, adding some degree of pain to the joyful display. "Why can't you hear a Pterodactyl go to the bathroom?" He asked while shifting his legs again, slightly agitating the stitching and bandages underneath.

Alfred drove forward, smoothly getting into the right lane and indulging the ten-year old's jest. "Why can't I hear a Pterodactyl go to the bathroom Master Dick?"

Dick was all too eager. "Because the P is silent!" The child erupted into giggles, falling back into the seat and laughing. His head angled slightly up, and around his throat was a ring of dark purple bruises that had been covered with some makeup.

Dick told Alfred Pterodactyl related jokes all the way to school, the butler calmly accepting each joke and even telling one himself.

Alfred paused at the gate of the school, parking before turning in his seat to look the child in the eyes, making sure Dick knew this was a serious matter he was about to discuss.

"Now Master Dick, if you feel even the slightest bit dizzy you go straight to the nurse to call me, alright? It is entirely too early for you to be going back to school after that encounter a few days ago." Alfred stressed, unable to keep his tone even when he felt so passionate about the boy's safety. Dick had insisted he go to school, he even tried convincing his superiors to let him go earlier but Bruce wouldn't have it. And if Bruce had let him go Alfred would have grounded them both.

The little acrobat nodded, a stern and responsible frown on his face as he did so. "I want to do this Alfred." He said, grabbing his backpack nervously. If Alfred really wanted to he could just turn around and go home right then, but Dick wanted to see his friends!

The old butler sighed, nodding along and turning back in his seat. "Then I'll see you after school Master Dick."

Dick lit up like a christmas tree, "Thanks Alfie! Love you!" He yanked the car door open and slid out, ignoring the grimace his wounded leg caused and promptly slammed the door shut behind him.

He met up with a girl named Barbara. ("Whoa, Dick how'd you get that scratch!?") ("Fell off the counter helping Alfred put away the dishes. I had a plate and it broke, a big chunk sliced my cheek and ear!") ("That's kinda lame... Do you think it'll scar?") ("I hope so! I could make up so many stories! No one would ever know how I REALLY got it!") ("Except me! I know all of your secrets Dick!") ("Heh, yeah Babs.") She was fun and her dad was commissioner Gordon, a friend to Batman and Robin! He felt so sneaky, he loved it. But he really wanted to tell Barbra, but Bruce said no.

After a few minutes of chatting they headed to their classes, to the duo's annoyance they didn't have the same first class, but they had the second half of the day together!

Dick got into his chair in Mrs. Pearson's class, the older woman had glanced at him when he walked in but now she was staring at him. He didn't think anything of it, and certainly didn't think anything of it when he was called to the Principal's office.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

"Gotham's White Knight Bruce Wayne savagely accused of abusing his 10 year old ward Richard 'Dick' Grayson after some alarming unexplained wounds were found by his teacher yesterday." Vicki Vale's warped voice said from the TV.

Dick stared at the screen in shock, the rest of the report dying away as his eyes got big and his heart started thudding loudly in his chest.

"Bruce?" He called, standing up quickly as the implications of the accusations started flying through his head, not even caring about the pain that emanated from his leg at the action. "Bruce?!"

"You alright Dick?" Bruce said as he came into the room, he paused when he saw the headline of the news spouting from the TV. They stood in silence as they both listened.

"Mr. Wayne promises no harm from him has come to the boy, but social services are riding up his tail asking 'where exactly did these wounds come from?' In which Wayne has yet to answer for, causing many people on both fronts to start backing the child protective program. As pointed out many times, Dick Grayson was never fully adopted by Bruce Wayne, he is still acting as a Ward. With suspicion up in the air the school disclosed several accounts of lacerations causing the young Grayson to miss school, reports of fellow students seeing him sporting bruises and other various lesions accompanying this disclosure. If Mr. Wayne doesn't do something fast he's going to have to say goodbye to his ward he's had for a little under two years, but will it be a grateful parting? Details are coming up and this is a hot topic for Gothamites as their White Knight might have a few red stains on his hands. Back to you David."

The room was stifling with emotion, each person seemingly trying to convey their anguish without words because they knew they couldn't find the right ones.

Bruce didn't really know what to say, he didn't want Dick to find out like this...

Dick was horrified. Everyone thought Bruce was hurting him, they wanted to take him away!

"Bruce...?" Dick's small voice asked, finally turning from the TV and staring up at his not-quite-adopted father with big teary eyes. "...What's going to happen...?"

The billionaire stepped forward, his soft gaze turning into a hard scowl, tugging his ward into his arms for a hug. Dick buried himself in the man's chest, wide eyes trying to blink away the tears before they could fall. "Nothing Dick," Bruce murmured as a hand went up to ruffled his raven hair. "You're staying right here with me."

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Bruce sighed as he rubbed his tired face. This was getting complicated, everyone seemed to find holes in all his stories, and granted half of them were fabricated they had never been questioned before. These people were latching onto everything they possibly could, but why? Couldn't they see Dick was happy with him? And he was happy with Dick. When all of this blew over maybe it was time to hang up the yellow cape, if only for a little while to make sure Dick could handle himself.

That was the thing though, he knew Dick could handle himself, it was those blasted giant creatures that just started terrorizing the city that had pushed Dick past his limit. But he couldn't just say that, and he had been saved a few times by blaming kidnappers for the more abusive-type wounds (i.e. throat wounds, head wounds, sometimes even slash wounds), but apparently so far they'd only been lucky.

"Master Bruce, it seems someone is at the door asking for you." Alfred interrupted his thoughts, standing neatly at the office door.

The billionaire got up slowly, he seemed to get more achy when he got stressed like this. It made him feel old, and he honestly was at times like these. Having a ten year old wasn't supposed to make you feel 50 when you're 27 right? "Alright, do we know who it is?"

"A Miss Clerval, here from child services."

Bruce's gut sank. "Right. Do you know where Dick is?"

"Hiding in his room I suppose, he saw her come in and fled up the stairs." Alfred said, concern shifting in his eyes. "Perhaps spending some time with the boy would be more beneficial rather than brooding by yourself and letting the child's imagination run with him?"

Bruce brushed past his butler with a scowl, in no mood to meet the woman who represented everyone who wanted to take his ward away. "This isn't going to solve itself Alfred."

"But I'm sure it would work wonders for the boy who is convinced there is a person behind every rock and stone who wants to take him from you." Alfred said, trailing after him and adding dryly, "He might have grown attached to you in the past two years if you hadn't noticed Sir."

"I'll take care of it." Bruce huffed, straightening his jacket as he traveled through the many hallways of the Manor. Before he entered the large entryway he turned to his faithful butler, "Keep an eye on the Watchtower's progress will you? If anything important comes up notify me, if these past two days have anything to say about it I'm going to be pretty busy."

The butler's head dipped, "Yes I'm sure a young handsome billionaire such as yourself need not concern over the pet project orbiting the planet in favor of handling abuse accusations to your ward." Alfred deadpanned, not only pointing out the ridiculousness of the situation but his own displeasure at the man's plan to help the Metas by ejecting them into space.

"It'll work Alfred." Bruce stressed, well aware that the sarcasm in the elder's voice was the butler's way of disagreeing with his methods. "I'm not doing enough as Bruce Wayne, funding the Justice League under the radar is hard when there's nothing they can do without public support- support I can't give unless I want to be ransacked and-"

"Treated like a Metahuman conspirator?" The butler interrupted smoothly.

"Giving them a place to go where the humans can't find them is the best bet to at least save the survivors." Bruce continued steadily.

"You bite off more than you can chew Master Bruce," Alfred pointed out, "What happens when the children born grow up and gain more families?"

"The station can be built bigger." He replied haltingly.

"And when the nations of the world fire their nuclear warheads as they most certainly will once they're aware of its presence?"

"There is a defense system, and I'm sure some Metas wouldn't mind helping out."

"You sure put a lot of faith in these Metahumans." Alfred said warily. He was not against Bruce's ideology of helping the Metas, quite the opposite in fact, but he was on his own with no help and trying to fix too many problems. He just wanted peace for his pseudo son, for his little family that made itself around fixing the plight of injustice.

Bruce was a man too good for his time, Dick too jubilant for all his sorrows.

"If not in people, what am I supposed to have faith in?" Bruce asked, ending the conversation with a brilliant playboy smile and a swift walk into the hallway.

Ms. Clerval was an older woman, frail looking and wrinkly, but she stood like a jagged rock, ready to pierce his hull and sink his battleship. Her light gray hair was in short curls in true old woman fashion, a floral shirt accenting her long magenta business skirt. She held a dark blue folder and a clipboard was over it, her red lips were forged in a frown, like they were made to be in a permanent scowl.

"Mr. Wayne." She said stiffly as the billionaire approached, her tone sounding like she was scolding a child. A fact in which Bruce did not appreciate.

"Miss Clerval, I hear you're here to check up on me?" He reached out a hand to shake, a fake smile plastered on his face, but his courtesy ended there, he couldn't help the underlying aversion in his tone.

She didn't take his hand, her eyes like burning coals on him. "I'm here for mister Richard Grayson, I don't need you to influence his actions any more than you already have."

Dick came down the stairs at that moment, scuttling up behind Bruce and taking his hand, peaking around to watch the old lady.

Her scowl disappeared, her focus now on the ten year old behind the billionaire. She leaned down a bit to be on his level, ignoring the scowl from Bruce and the obvious trepidation in the child's mannerisms. "Hello Richard, I hear you like to be called Dick. Do you want to go someplace comfy to talk?"

Dick shook his head and retreated farther behind the man, his father figure's big hand almost shielding him and herding him away from the woman.

"You're here to talk to me, not him, he's just a minor." Bruce said, pulling her attention away from his frightened ward.

Miss Clerval stood up, her frown returning like a flea to a turd. "Mr. Wayne, if I am to get any read on how he is being treated I certainly won't be talking to you."

"Then talk to him here, he can say whatever he wants while I'm here." Bruce argued, he knew it looked bad, but Dick was holding onto him in such a way he had only felt during nightmare episodes. Dick didn't want him to leave, Dick didn't want to be alone with this woman, and Bruce sure as heck wasn't about to let either of those things happen.

"It would be easier on everyone if you just complied Mr. Wayne. The truth will reveal itself no matter how many lies you spin to cover it up." She said sweetly, her eyes sending her venom to the man rather than her voice, but both detectives clearly heard the hateful tone lying underneath.

Bruce pulled Dick from behind him, settling another hand on his shoulder to help the poor kid. "Then ask."

Miss Clerval seemed to take the action as a personal offense, she inhaled through her nose and pointed a boney finger at the billionaire. "I won't let you lay another hand on him Mr. Wayne, I'm getting that boy away from you." She hissed, glowering like a harpy.

Bruce felt his own anger flare, she perceived his action of comfort as an action of abuse and control. He gently squeezed the boy's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. "Over my dead body."

Once the words left his mouth he knew he messed up.

Her wrinkly lips twitched into a smirk, her hand returning to her tablet and a frightening sense of victory glinted in her soulless eyes. "That will be all Mr. Wayne, resisting is just as bad as being proved guilty. I'll take the boy, now."

"No!" Dick cried out, twisting around and hugging Bruce with all his might, too sacred to start crying as he was desperate to stay. This wasn't right! Wasn't there a process or something? He couldn't be taken now! He shouldn't be taken ever! Bruce was nice! Bruce was Batman!

"Wait- I-" Bruce fumbled, placing his hands on the child's back to alleviate some of the stress on the poor ten year old. "Dick doesn't want to leave. If you don't trust me then please, trust him. I've never hurt Dick-"

"That's quite enough Mr. Wayne," she snapped, "A nice family in Central City has already offered up their home to him. He'll be in good, safe care until the truth comes out, but he cannot stay here any longer."

"No!" Dick cried again, muffled by Bruce's shirt.

"Please, he's in distress, can you at least give us some time to pack his things?" Bruce asked. He felt Dick hug him tighter, nearly falling apart at the thought of leaving, but Bruce was just asking for time at this point, he just needed time.

Miss Clerval scrutinized the duo. "Five minutes." She said coldly.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Dick numbly slid out of the car, pulling his backpack over his shoulder and mindlessly grabbing at his suitcase.

The case hit the ground with a 'thunk' before it rolled with the slowly walking child. He stepped up the curb and tugged the suitcase along, eyes cast down to the pavement and mind drifting.

Someone named Mr. Allen had offered to take care of him for now so he wouldn't have to be at an orphanage. That was nice. That was the only nice thing about his situation.

He had a wife and a nephew who lived with him. His nephew was only two years older than Dick, apparently Mr. Allen and the rest of the people who hated Bruce thought they might become friends.

He didn't want new friends.

He wanted Bruce.

His eyes still stung from all the crying, he had cried the entire drive, Bruce had to push him away for Dick to get in the car. He-

Dick couldn't think about that right now, just focus on the present. The past hurt too much, and the future couldn't be more dim.

"Hey there champ, I'm Barry Allen." The man had a kind smile, blonde hair, and a runner's build. Barry gestured to the woman next to him, "This is Iris Allen." She was a bit shorter than him, red hair, another pity smile. "And this little squirt is my nephew Wally West." He ruffled the spiky red hair of a lanky boy, he was freckled and had green eyes. He seemed almost as apprehensive as Dick was.

Dick wanted to say hi, to at least thank them for taking him in, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. So he just kept quiet, staring at the ground.

After a second of an award silence Mr. Allen ushered Dick inside, waving off the harpy in the drivers seat of the car. Dick barely even tried to take a look at the small house, he was trying not to cry. Mr. Allen was talking to him, he knew, but he couldn't seem to hear what he was saying. Dick was then led upstairs, into a nice guest bedroom next to Wally's room. It was a simple room, like how Dick's used to be in the manor, but he had stripped it to come here. He felt his gut fire up at the thought of these walls carrying his family's poster, of the few newspaper clippings about Batman and Robin he cherished. These walls weren't home, they didn't deserve the sacred duty of displaying his soul.

He was so busy thinking that he didn't register Mr. Allen telling him "If you need anything don't be afraid to ask." Just like Bruce and Alfred had when he first arrived at the manor.

He just sat on the bed, boring a hole into the wall as his mind perceived nothing.

Ok I have to admit, that last line was created by ninjanerd1001 originally for something else but I sorta stole it cuz it literally fit so perfectly there.

Anyway.

SURPRISE ITS A NEW BOOK HAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHHA

And unlike all the others, this one is mostly done already. It's a short story though, so far it only has 29,309 words all together, while the others are only about half way and have wAYYYY more than that. Oh dudes I should really find out how many words all of my stories are have, haha, which story really is longest?

(I'm thinking Blood Ties, but AMOC has more chapters that are longer. Then again ACTT was practically finished with around 30 chapters but each chapter prolly only had 4,000 words)

Speaking of which, Ima try to keep this one pretty even as well, in the 4,000 range.

This chapter is 4,419 words.

Anyone like the story so far? Anyone think it would start out like a fic where Dick gets taken from Bruce cuz of abuse (aka Robin related injuries)? I betcha didn't, and if ya did, good on ya.

But this is just the beginning. 

Keep your sanity close, or perhaps far away. Keep an eye on your friends, for they might hold your hand to more easily stab your back. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. 

In any case, you can't possibly hope to know what's around the corner.

Welcome. To the Labyrinth.