BEFORE

The engine vibrated the car as Dick gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. He had no idea what he was doing, but with everything on the line, it was too late to back out now. Beside him in the passenger seat lay his phone. The screen had lit up from a notification and the screens background was a picture of his family. His father's and mother's face were smiling at the screen while his sister's face was bigger in frame from the angle she was taking the picture. Dick was in the picture as well, but he was in between his parents in the selfie, his smile forced. The picture choked him up and when the screen went blank, his reflection stood staring back at him. His eyes teared up a bit before they shifted to the interior of the car.

It was his father's pride and joy. Dick had always loved this car; every rattle, every scratch, every scrape it had collected from family road trips and the weekend rides around town. Now, it was his only lifeline.

He couldn't lose it. He couldn't afford to.

The last few months had been a nightmare for him. He couldn't erase the memories of the hospital. Not its sterile scent or unforgiving florescent lights. The doctor's face was embedded into his mind. It's a face he would remember for the rest of his life as he delivered the worst news he could imagine. Dick was at home helping his sister with her homework when the police showed up at their door. A car accident, they said. Instant. Quick. But quick didn't begin to explain what had followed after.

Sixteen. He was only a few months shy of being another year for the sake of his sister. Yet, the state fought him tooth and nail to take guardianship over her. He wouldn't allow a social worker to take her away from him. Not now, not ever. But they did. Holly Grayson was currently away from him and in the months leading up to his eighteenth birthday he would do everything to get her out of the system he promised she wouldn't have to be in.

Dick didn't have a plan on how to do it. He only had this car, a little luck, and a whole lot of desperation. This was his last resort. He didn't have the money it would take to get an attorney to obtain Holly earlier so he listened to the crowds at school. And the whispers spoke about cashouts, large enough to be able to put a deposit down for what he needed and possibly more.

Neon lights flickered from the shops and lit the streets. Engines began to revve as the group of four racers made their way to the starting line, in the background Dick could hear music playing loudly from a car, the beat of the bass syncing with his heartbeat.

He glanced to his right and left, taking in the other drivers. Each had a car that seemed better than his, flashier than his. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter. He'd come here hoping to make money to get his sister back but now staring down the track, he wondered if he knew what he was even doing.

A figure appeared at the front of the lineup catching his eye. A girl, about his age or older, stood in between the cars. Her hair was a vibrant red under the lights, each sway of her step as she bobbled between her legs caused a rippling effect on her bright hair, almost flame-like. She raised her hand, red handkerchief in hand.

Dick tightened his grip on the wheel once more, one foot on the break while the other hovered over the gas. If he lost tonight, he would lose everything all over again. The last piece of their family, gone within a blink of an eye.

Time slowed down, the seconds beginning to taunt him.

"Ready?"

The cars began to revve again. She smirked and raised her hand higher, and then in a flash, her arm dropped.

Simultaneously, all drivers slammed their foot on the gas, the car roaring to life beneath them. As Dick was launched forward, the back of his head jerked back with the momentum. The others blurred around him. He gritted his teeth, damn near breaking them as the bright orange and blue car on his left pulled ahead, leaving him behind in the wake of their raw power. The makeshift track whirled past him as he struggled to keep up. It was then where he saw the gap between him and the leaders more promptently.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath, fighting to keep the car steady.

A powerful surge kicked in beneath him, and the car shot forward. His vision tunneled, his car fighting to reach the leaders. Everything beyond the windshield became streaks of light as the car tore down the street.

In the last moment, he flew past the jet-black car, the tip of his own vehicle crossing the line.

He won.

He slammed on the brakes, his car screeching to a stop as he gripped the wheel, heat racing while every nerve in his body vibrated in excitement. Dick let out a tentative laugh as he looked ahead at the road and then down at the steering wheel of the car, hands shaking from adrenaline.

As Dick climbed out of his father's car, a rush of faces surged forward, all of them shouting their congrats. A few of them tried to shake hands with him, others slapped his shoulders with wide grins, all of which made his cheeks flush with warmth. A bundle of cash was shoved into his hands, rough and bulky. A weight was lifted from his shoulders as he looked down at the money. He was sure this was enough to get an attorney to assist him with his case to get to Holly.

Before he could breathe to soak in his victory, a crackle of static broke through the radios of the organizers with a panicked message: Oh shit we got cops! Cops! Cops!

The crowd turned from euphoria to panic. Bystanders and the three racers scattered, engines tuning themselves before taking off in a frenzy and bleeding into the streets they didn't close off, trying desperately to blend in with the nighttime traffic.

But before he could make it back inside his car, a strong hand grabbed him, yanking him back with force. Dick twisted around with the momentum, ready to fight - only to freeze when he saw the man in front of him. He was older, tall, with dark hair neatly combed back. Bruce Wayne.

Bruce was out of place with his get-up, his eyes boring into Dicks. Of all people, what the fuck was he doing here?

"Dick Grayson," Bruce said. "We need to talk."

"Now? Are you kidding? Cops are about to swarm this place."

Bruce didn't budge, merely nodding toward the passenger seat of the car Dick was driving. "Get in. I'll tell you where to go to get clear of them."

Dick clenched his jaw, glancing at the flashing lights approaching in the distance. He didn't know the streets well if at all to get cops off his tail. His eyes shifted back to Bruce. Dick grunted but relented, sliding into the driver's seat while Bruce got in the passenger side.

Shifting into gear, Dick sped out of there, Bruce beginning to guide them out of the chaos. The lights followed them at first, but then with a quick turn into an alley street, their vehicle disappeared. Cops rushed past them chasing after a ghost.

They'd finally shaken off the cops and were driving down a deserted road when Dick deemed their distance far enough to pull over on the side. He pulled the car over with a sharp jerk and threw it into the park, his hand white-knuckling the gearshift. Without a word, he shoved the door open, storming out into the cold night air.

Bruce followed him, unhurried as he circled around the car. Before he could get a word out, Dick turned to face him, eyes blazing.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Dicks voice cracked with frustration. He took a step forward, jabbing a finger into Bruce's chest. "I don't have time for your games."

Bruce barely flinched, an infuriatingly calm smirk playing on his face. "I know where your sister is."

Dick froze, every muscle in his body freezing as they hit him like a gut punch. "What. .. did you just say?

"You heard me. I know where Holly is. I can help."

Without thinking, Dick lunged forward, his hands grabbing Bruce's collar and shoving him back until Bruce's back hit the hood of the car. His grip was tight as his rage from the last few months boiled to the surface.

"What games are you playing at, huh?" Dicks eyes searching the older man for a hint of deceit. His voice was low and dangerous, his face inches from Bruce. "Do you have any idea what I've done? What I've had to go through?"

Bruce chuckled, the sound was annoying and all-knowing as if Dicks outburst was just another expected move in a game he long mastered. Dick sneered at him his grip getting tighter at his taunt.

Bruce reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen, a live feed brightening the space between them.

The image was dark and grainy, but unmistakable—a small cramped room with a bed in the corner. There in the middle of the screen was Holly, curled up under a bare blanket. Her face was bruised, and her blonde hair was tangled and dirty. This was their punishment—his failed promise.

"Let go, Dick," Bruce murmured.

Dick didn't move at first. His grip on Bruce iron tight. His body was trembling as his eyes didn't stray from his sister's broken form on the screen. After a moment, he released his hold and took a step back.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, fight gone from his voice.

"A simple trade."

—

YOU MAKE ME DO TOO MUCH LABOR.