Forgotten Bonds – Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One
A Matter of Morals

“Ah, Mama! I’m so bored!” complained Dick, slamming the large book in his lap closed. He was dying of boredom. He shouldn’t have learned how to read so fast. Now his mother was expecting more from him. He really needed to stop being so smart like his mother kept telling him all the time. Now she was making him read what had to be the most difficult and boring book – to a six year old, at least – in the world.

“Dick,” chided his mother gently, her voice lilting with her Romanian accent. “You know you’re supposed to read your Bible every day.”

“But it’s sooo boring!” cried Dick, folding his arms grumpily; glaring at the offending black book. “They speak all backwards and they can’t even spell right. What is this, shew or show? Say it right already!” Dick shook his head in exasperation. “Honestly, Mama, don’t they know anything?”

Mary Grayson chuckled lightly. She set the dish she was washing aside, drying her hands on a towel, before coming to sit next to Dick on the couch.

“Come and sit,” said Mary, patting her lap once. Dick happily scrambled into his mother’s lap, leaving the book behind. He settled with a contented smile as Mary wrapped her arms around him. Her warmth and softness was so wonderful. He wiggled happily. Mary grabbed the Bible from the couch and set it into Dick’s lap.

“You weren’t supposed to close it.”

“You learn more that way,” reasoned Dick mischievously. Mary giggled at that and opened the book.

“Oh, I see. You seem very knowledgeable for a little boy.”

Dick shrugged. “I try.”

“All right, enough sillies. Where were you reading?”

“I dunno…”

“Dick.”

“Fiiine. I dunno, there were a lot of ‘thou shalt nots’. Started to drive me crazy!”

“Mmm, I know exactly where that is,” said Mary with a hum in her voice; fingering through the aged book with expertness. Dick looked up at his mother, his large blue eyes blinking curiously.

“Do you have the Bible memorized, Mama?”

“I might. Just so I can explain away all my mother logic when you get older – just to keep you out of mischief.”

“I never get into mischief!”

“Mmm, my little robin… Are you quite sure of that?” asked Mary with a light smile, her r’s trilling slightly as she said his nickname. Dick pouted for a moment and he shrugged.

“Well, no more than what’s healthy for a six year old.”

Mary giggled. “I always forget that. You seem so much older sometimes. You really amaze me.”

Dick felt a little glow of pride in his chest. He wiggled in her lap as he straightened. Mary stopped fingering through the gilded edges of the pages until she came to a section in the book of Exodus.

“Here we go,” said Mary with a smile in her voice. “You were reading in chapter twenty. Did you know there are some very special things in this chapter? Special little gemstones of knowledge.”

Dick’s ears perked. While he didn’t realize it, his mother knew just how to weave the interesting into such things. She knew exactly how to teach her little one. And since Dick was always thirsty to learn, she never needed to do much prodding.

“Like what? I must’ve missed them,” said Dick, leaning down closer to the page as if they’d suddenly pop out at him.

“Inside this chapter are the things that God wants you and me to follow. What do you think they are?”

“Um…” Dick scrunched up his eyes as he concentrated with great difficulty. “Be nice to others?”

Mary let out a laugh, her melodic lilt radiating through Dick. Her arm tightened around Dick as she nudged him softly; running through his raven colored hair with her other hand.

“Yes, of course. But there are more in here. Any ideas?”

“Aaah, Mama! Just tell me before I `xplode!” cried Dick, impatiently bouncing slightly in her lap. There were more giggles.

“All right, my little robin. Settle down. Here, this verse here. It’s very special.”

Dick focused his eyes on the small text.

“Thou shalt not kill,” he read out loud after a moment. He folded his arms grumpily. “What’s so special about that? It’s only four words. It’s just telling you not to kill.”

Mary lifted Dick’s chin, so that he had to turn his head to the side and look up into her leaning profile.

“Oh, but it’s very special. Do you know what God is saying here?”

“Don’t kill,” said Dick flatly in his high voice, as if this was completely obvious.

“Yes, but there is so much more.”

Bright big blue eyes blinked curiously up into Mary’s face. They sparkled with innocence and the need to learn; soaking up every moment, every soft touch, every sound, every kind word that his mother gave to him.

“Don’t you ever forget, my little robin,” said Mary in a gentle, soft tone as she caressed Dick’s cheek. “Life is precious. Every life – no matter whose it is – should never be taken from them. Because once a life is gone, it’s gone from this world. You cannot bring it back. It is a terrible thing to take away. No one has the right to steal life.”

Dick nodded solemnly in agreement. This made Mary smile lovingly at him and nudge his nose with her own.

“Don’t you ever forget, my little robin; your life is precious.”

ooOOOOOoo

December 8th, 2008. Monday, 6:03pm.

Dick’s eyes were glazed over as he was caught in the memory. His hand was suspended above his plate, his dinner long forgotten. It had been a long time since he had remembered anything that special about his mother. He took a deep calming breath. Her memory was always enough to break him down into tears. He could still remember her trilling voice and her soft touch. He always felt safe in her loving arms.

But one of his most favorite things about his mother was that she always told him how special he was. She always made him feel worth something. She always did her best to lift him up. She was the only one who ever told him that his life was precious. Sure, his father loved him, but he wasn’t exactly going to say such deep things like that to his son. He’d always ruffle his hair playfully, though, and told Dick how much he loved him.

But Mary Grayson was the only one who had ever told him that his life was precious.

And that always brought a glow to Dick’s heart.

She was also the one to give him his nickname. He had chosen his name Robin with Batman because it was from her. She always said that he looked like a little robin flying whenever he did the trapeze wires. Thus, he had gained his nickname and he had always loved it.

But as he was thinking deeply, a worry began to rise in his chest. While Slade was being completely patient with the gun education and was slowly building Dick’s resistance to them, Dick was sure there would come a time when he’d be forced to use one on another human being. What would his mother think, after so diligently teaching him against it, if he killed someone?

The thought of making his mother’s soft green eyes saddened and disappointed with him was more than Dick could bear. He’d never be able to face her.

But what could he do? Sure, life was getting better now with Slade. Dick had avoided getting into any trouble since his cold. However, within the past few days, Slade seemed more and more irritated by things. He lost his temper a lot, snapping at Dick more, but he held back since Dick wasn’t ever trying to provoke the man. Luckily, Dick didn’t do anything to disobey Slade; it just seemed like the little things would make the man cross.

Dick wasn’t sure why he was getting that way. Was it because it was December? In just a few weeks Christmas would come. Did he hate Christmas or something? Was he a Scrooge? Somehow Slade didn’t quite seem that type, but in some ways he did.

So, why was he so irritable lately?

The thoughts of Dick’s heart would probably anger the man. Even though there were many times when Slade told him that there were no morals in life, Dick disagreed. He knew his mother believed differently and while, he wasn’t exactly religious like she was, Dick desperately wanted to please her memory.

Somehow he needed to convince Slade that he didn’t want to kill. He really didn’t want to steal, but if he had to choose, he’d steal over using guns or shooting someone any day. He was sure his mother wouldn’t like that, but she would understand that he wasn’t really in control over certain things in his life any more. At the moment, he had to go with the lesser of two evils, it seemed.

Dick bit his lip, glancing up at Slade as the man ate his dinner silently. He was reading the newspaper, occasionally ruffling the paper to turn it to another page.

This was somewhat nerve wracking. He wasn’t sure how Slade was going to take what he was going to say. But if Dick had to claim that he was a devote religious believer to avoid killing people, then amen to it.

Well, there was no harm in trying. Hopefully, Slade wouldn’t get too mad at him – much, at least. It wasn’t like there was much at stake here.

Except his hide…

“Slade, do you believe in God?” asked Dick casually, almost cautiously.

Slade rustled the newspaper he was reading and didn’t look up; turning another page. Then, he stopped; a baffled, incredulous look beginning to flood through his features.

“What kind of question is that?” asked Slade, lifting an eyebrow as he eyed Dick over his newspaper.

“I was just thinking was all,” said Dick with a shrug. “I mean—”

“There is no God, Dick,” said Slade in a flat tone, his gaze returning to his paper. There was a terribly rigid light in his eye. Dick tried not to chew on his lip too much.

“Some people believe in one,” continued Dick; trying to sound convincing, yet realizing it was sort of foolish. He tried a different tactic when he was ignored. Dick turned to look at the old man. “Mr. Wintergreen, do you believe in God?”

There was a pause between the three of them. Even Slade stopped for a moment to observe the old man over his newspaper; a bored, yet curious expression flowing over Slade’s face. A smile laced through the old man’s features as he took a sip from his juice, before setting it down onto the table.

“I do, actually,” answered Wintergreen with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Really?”

“I didn’t know that,” said Slade with a questioning eyebrow; the newspaper slowly lowering down. Wintergreen merely smiled lightly.

“Just because we’re best friends, Slade, doesn’t mean you know everything about me,” said Wintergreen, sounding mildly amused. The old man looked over at Dick. “You know, I believe in something else, too.”

Dick leaned forward, eager to find out.

“I believe in angels.”

There was a derisive snort from Slade.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard from you, Will,” said Slade, shaking his head.

Dick’s eyes widened as he looked at the old man. “Really?”

“Yes, indeed I do,” said Wintergreen, ignoring Slade’s snide comment. “I believe that there are guardian angels that watch over lost souls – even assigned to them to help them back onto a path of light and hope.”

There was another snort from Slade. “Can you imagine one being assigned to me? I’d probably give the whole lot of them a ton of grief. I can see it now: wailing, moaning, and gnashing of teeth galore.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in what I was saying, Slade,” said Wintergreen dubiously, a slight mocking lifting through his tone.

“I don’t,” retorted Slade in a flat tone. “I was just making a sarcastic remark. Surely by now you know that I’m full of that kind of stuff.”

“Yes, I do know you’re full of it,” nodded Wintergreen. Dick choked on his juice; coughing and spluttering suddenly. Slade glared at the old man.

“Watch it,” snapped Slade.

“Oh? Watch what?” said Wintergreen in a questioning lilt, appearing completely innocent. Slade merely glared daggers at the old man. Dick swore if glares could stab, the old man would be bleeding all over the table.

“Do you really believe angels watch over people, Wintergreen?—ow!”

A sharp pinch roughly tugged Dick’s ear. Slade withdrew his hand and set a firm glare on him.

“Show some respect,” snapped Slade; growing more irritable by the moment. Dick nodded meekly.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” said Dick, rubbing the pinch out of his ear. He was more nervous than ever now. Slade really must be irritable today to resort to tugging his ear – something the man rarely did, but only when he was extremely ill tempered.

There was a moment of silence before Wintergreen broke it.

“I do indeed, child,” said Wintergreen, his tone filled with reverence. Dick bit his lower lip and looked down at his dinner. It heartened him some to think there could be an angel watching over him. But somehow he didn’t believe there was one. After all, wouldn’t the angel help him out of this situation? His mother always told him that things always happened for a reason; that one’s experiences were always planned for one’s growth. It was the way one lived through it that showed true character.

But was this really one of those times? What good could come out of being the captive of an assassin who was trying to teach him how to become one as well?

What could be learned; what could be gained here?

“Slade, how come you don’t believe in God?” asked Dick, looking over at the man. Slade merely gave him a dubious expression, his eyebrow lifting heavily. “I mean, there’s the Bible after all. There’s some proof there.”

Slade shook his head and stared at Dick with his hard unwavering eye.

“I’ve told you before, haven’t I? People will create morals to stand by all the time. But in the end, they’ll do what suits them. For all you know, the Bible could be merely a work of fiction. Wouldn’t be the first and is certainly not the last.”

“I don’t know about that,” disagreed Dick. “There are multiple accounts from different writers. And besides, believing in God is a little different than that, don’t you think?”

“I am past finished with this conversation,” said Slade in a curt tone. “Where are you going with this?”

Dick squirmed under the hard look that Slade was giving him.

“N–nowhere… I was just thinking. My mother taught me some things when I was a kid.”

“No offence to the memory of your mother, but I’m an Atheist; thus, so are you,” said Slade, his grey blue eye glinting as if he suggested that Dick say otherwise. He lifted his newspaper back up and continued to read in a manner that totally said that this was the end of the conversation.

“What if I wanted to be a Christian?” asked Dick tentatively.

“Not in my house,” said Slade, not even looking at Dick.

“But Wintergreen’s a Christian—ouch!”

Slade had swiftly once again reached over to Dick and sharply tugged onto his earlobe.

“I keep telling you to show some respect around here. Don’t make me remind you again or you’ll be eating your dinner standing up,” snapped Slade, his eye glinting dangerously. Dick rubbed his now twice abused ear, trying to get rid of the wincing pain that was shooting through it.

“Sorry, sir. But I was saying that Mr. Wintergreen is a Christian and you let him live here.”

“Just because he believes in God doesn’t mean he’s a Christian,” retorted Slade. “He could be Jewish for all you know.”

“But he’s not wearing that hat thing,” protested Dick, making a motion with his hands to his head.

“A Kippah, child,” said Wintergreen helpfully.

“Yeah, that.”

“So suddenly one has to show outward appearance to make it apparent of their beliefs?” asked Slade in a mocking tone. The man scoffed and shook his head. “This is ridiculous. This is the most ludicrous conversation I’ve had in years.”

Dick chewed on his lower lip; wondering if he should continue. Slade did not look interested in this at all, obviously; not to mention he was looking more and more irritated by the whole thing by the second. It was clear that this tactic wasn’t working. But Dick couldn’t stop now. He had to try.

For his mother.

“But my mother taught me stuff,” said Dick, feeling extremely nervous now; as if he were treading on thin ice that could fall through at any moment. “She would’ve wanted me to be, you know, Christian. She taught me about the ten commandments.” Slade gave him a raised eyebrow and Dick continued quickly, “You know, ‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.’ I think that means don’t lie.”

“You’ve broken that one,” said Slade, giving him a wry smirk. “Quite a bit, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but nobody’s perfect…” pouted Dick, swallowing once. Of course, the man would point out his faults right now. “Besides, I think I want to be Christian, you know.”

“Dick,” drawled Slade warningly, his eye turning dangerous.

“I think that’s the belief system I want to live my life by,” said Dick, trying to sound philosophical. “Oh, and there’s others. Like, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’”

“I’m warning you, Dick,” said Slade, his tone completely icy. “Don’t push this right now. I’m not in the mood.”

Dick pressed on through the deadly glare and tone that he was receiving from Slade, knowing full well he was entering dangerous ground. But he seriously hoped that Slade would understand where he was coming from with this. Wintergreen just looked mildly amused through it all.

“A–and, ‘Thou shalt not kill.’”

Slade’s eye widened with his fury as he took a deep breath through his nose. He slammed his hands onto the table, crushing the paper; the sound reverberating throughout the room. Dick flinched visibly, his eyes wide. Slade stood to his full height, which towered over the table. Dick felt even smaller than ever.

“That’s it. You’re deliberately being difficult,” snapped Slade, his nostrils flaring once as he glared down on him. “This whole conversation has been utterly ridiculous. Angels, Bibles, and whatnot.”

Dick pulled back to cower in his chair slightly, his head down.

“No, I’m not. I’m just talkin—”

“You are deliberately trying to aggravate me and you know it.”

“No, seriously,” started Dick, looking up at Slade and hoping that he was appearing meek. “I’m really just trying to point something out.”

“What’s your point, then?” snapped Slade.

“I dunno…” murmured Dick, lowering his head again. “I just was trying to point out that maybe some people believe other things. Like you’re respectful of Mr. Wintergreen and I was hoping that maybe you would respect that with me…” Dick trailed off and looked up at Slade hopefully.

Slade looked infuriated. Dick’s heart thudded against his chest. The way Slade was looking reminded him all too well of the days that Slade had promised would never come back.

But then again, maybe Dick just pushed the man over his edge.

Slade strode around the table and grabbed Dick by the underarm, roughly pulling him to his feet. Dick’s eyes widened and he put dead weight on his feet, trying to pull away.

“No, no,” pleaded Dick softly, completely frightened at the fury in Slade’s eye. “Please—”

“Gentle,” murmured Wintergreen, bringing his mug to his lips.

“Oh, I will. But the punishment for this kind of disrespectful crap won’t be. I am done with this nonsense,” barked Slade, half dragging Dick away. Dick noticed that he was being pulled towards his bedroom. His heart quickened, beginning to palpitate in his chest.

No, no, no, no, this wasn’t good. While he was pretty sure what was going through Slade’s mind, a part of Dick was terrified that the man was going to revert back. Would he beat him again like before? He sure looked livid enough. Had Dick totally screwed everything up? Was this Slade’s limit?

But the man had promised him, hadn’t he? Yet Slade had been unpredictable recently. He could’ve changed back without Dick knowing.

“Please, sir,” cried Dick louder, grabbing at the man’s arm in desperation. He leaned backwards, trying to delay Slade – not really succeeding, however. “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful. I swear! Please… Please don’t…”

Dick trailed off and glanced at the floor for a moment, before looking back up into Slade’s eye.

Slade was completely irritated. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with this sort of nonsense. Why couldn’t the boy obey the first time around? Hadn’t Slade warned him to stop? But, no, the boy just continued on with this conversation after Slade had made it apparent that he was done with it. He had little patience for this kind of crap; especially around this time of year.

Slade stopped his march and turned his head to look down at the boy. Dick was looking up at him with pleading bright eyes, their blue color radiating fear and repentance. He narrowed his eye as he stared at the boy. Dick bit his lower lip and glanced fearfully past Slade, no doubt towards his bedroom door.

“Are you… gonna… you know…” Dick trailed off again and looked thoroughly fearful. It was strange to Slade. The boy still seemed rather afraid – almost terrified. Usually the boy was apprehensive before punishment, but he was never this frightened. What, did he think he was going to get beaten or something? Hadn’t Slade been proving to the boy he wasn’t going to beat him ever again?

“Slade,” came Wintergreen’s voice inside Slade’s ear. There was a slight tinge of static before it cleared. “I think he’s worried you’re going to lapse back to beating him. You did look absolutely terrifying when you rounded on him. Just like old times. Honestly, I’ve told you before that you can’t discipline the boy in your anger.”

Slade wanted to nod at this; but avoided during so, as it would only confuse the boy who was staring up at him with those glimmering, fearful orbs. Slade pursed his lips together as he watched the boy in his grasp. He took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten in attempt to reel back his anger. He noticed that Dick wasn’t trying to dart away or rip out of his grasp. Oh, yes; he was resisting, but the boy was acting more like a naughty little child who knew he was in trouble. But the fear ran much deeper than that. Slade could see it in his eyes.

Wintergreen was right; as usual.

Slade released his grip on Dick and folded his arms to sternly look down at the boy. Dick’s hand nervously rubbed against the spot on his arm that had been clutched as he fearfully looked up into Slade’s eye.

“What do you think?” asked Slade softly, but his tone was anything but soft. Dick’s lips trembled.

“I’m sorry… I was only… I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful…” murmured Dick, looking down at the ground. There was a long moment of silence. Blast it, why’d the boy have to be so scared like this? Well, there was one way to clear the air. Slade tried not to smirk as he began to rub the fur that grew on his chin in the form of his goatee.

“I should… I really should, you know,” said Slade, making his tone sound regretful. Playing the boy like this was always interesting. Dick really was easy to string along at times.

Dick looked up, his eyes filled with uncertain confusion.

“Should what?”

“Spank—I mean, wallop you.” There was a responding wince and flush from the boy, but then his eyes widened as he realized what Slade had said. “I really should. You were deliberately trying to get a rise out of me, knowing full well where I stood on this matter; even after I warned you a few times.”

The boy’s eyes widened even more. There was a ripple effect that went through his body; a visible wave of relief going through him. But then it was soon replaced with a deep look of anxiety as he glanced nervously back towards his bedroom.

Well, it was extremely obvious what the boy was thinking. Slade really needed to train the boy to contain and conceal his emotions better. He was easier to read than a children’s picture book. Finally, Dick looked up at Slade; a polite, submissive light filling his bright eyes as a – almost – pout protruded on his lips as he spoke up.

“I wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you, sir,” said Dick. “I was merely hoping to compromise with you… maybe…” He trailed off and looked hopefully into Slade’s eye.

Slade raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything to that. He continued to observe Dick for a long moment. Slade almost hoped for some advice from Wintergreen; but, of course, he couldn’t verbally express that.

Almost as if his thoughts were heard, Wintergreen’s voice filled his ear.

“I’d let him off with a warning, Slade. He’s been quite good and while, yes, you should remain consistent, I think right now his intentions were not willful, but merely trying to – as he said – compromise with you. And you have to admit, you’ve been rather awful recently. You really shouldn’t be so snappy with him.”

Slade almost nodded in agreement, but caught himself. He was thinking along the same lines, but it was nice to have a second opinion. And he most certainly had not been awful or snappy. Blast that old man. Slade was definitely going to speak to him on that.

“I’m letting you off with a warning,” said Slade, letting his eye glint slightly. “But the next time you pull a stunt like this, you and I will have a nice discussion in your room. A painful one.”

Hope flooded in Dick’s eyes as he smiled. He nodded in agreement.

“Yes, sir. I swear I won’t do this again.”

“All right, all right; come on now,” said Slade in exasperation, clasping Dick by the shoulder and pushing him back to the kitchen. He placed his hand on the boy’s middle back as he continued to push him forward. “Our dinner is probably getting cold by now.”

He expected the boy to quicken his steps to the kitchen, but he didn’t. He walked slowly, almost the point of leaning back on Slade’s hand. Slade didn’t say anything about it as they entered the kitchen. Wintergreen looked completely unperturbed by the whole event. Slade honestly wanted to sigh over the whole matter. The boy truly was exhausting. He had almost forgotten what it was like dealing with a precocious child.

Sometimes he had to wonder if Dick was more trouble than his previous brood combined. Surely seemed that way.

With one final pat on the boy’s upper back, Slade sat down at the table in his chair. Dick did the same and began to eat with a soft smile on his face. He looked almost content.

Slade found it mildly interesting that the boy had tried to bring in religion into the whole matter, while at the same time irked about it. Although he was a little surprised to hear that Mary Grayson had taught him some things. But since Dick had lost his parents at such a young age, Slade doubted that he really remembered much. Slade truly felt it was Batman who drilled morals into the boy’s head.

The boy’s memory couldn’t be that good. Time forgets, after all.

Dinner continued for awhile more. There was light conversation between Slade and Wintergreen, but nothing major and nothing memorable. Dick was silent through it all. Slade was once again reading his paper when he noticed that the boy seemed tired.

Dick’s eyes began to droop slightly. Slade acted as if he were reading his paper while really keeping his eye on the boy. Dick breathed in slightly as he closed his eyes temporarily. A moment later, he popped them open again as if in the effort to avoid falling asleep. But then, those eyelids would once again begin to slide down over those glittering blue eyes. Slade lifted his paper somewhat to hide the smirk that was lifting his lips without his full permission.

Maybe they’ll do something easy tonight after dinner. The boy truly looked too tired to do any sparring. The way he was nodding off was really ador—interesting; very interesting. Although, by the looks of it, he’d probably fall asleep during any studying, too. But it really was too early in the day to send him off to bed. He’d be up, in the very least, at four o’clock in the morning – not good at all.

There was another bob of Dick’s head before it snapped back up; his eyes blinking blearily.

“Dick,” started Slade, keeping his voice soft as to not startle the boy. Dick blinked and straightened slightly, looking at Slade expectantly; although his eyes looked a bit glazed over. “Why don’t we do some studying tonight?”

“Oh… why?” asked Dick with a tilt of his head. Somehow Slade was reminded of a curious kitten, but he quickly put that out of his mind.

Why indeed? Perhaps because you look like you’re about to get close and personal with the remains of your dinner.

“Just thought we’d change things around,” said Slade with an offhanded wave of his hand. He set his newspaper down and gestured to Dick’s plate. “Are you done?”

There was a nod.

“Well, let’s go, then,” said Slade, standing up from the table. Slade couldn’t hold back the smirk that was spreading across his face as he heard the child’s submissive, yet hopeful voice.

“Yes, sir.”

ooOOOOOoo

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