Behind the Mask

Chapter 18

Dick was soaked to the bone by the time he reached the apartment, his clothes sticking to his skin and draping off him like rags and his shoes squelching as he walked. Wet socks sucked. The boy wasted no time in pulling open the door to the atrium, letting it fall shut against the darkness of the night. He made his way over to the list of room numbers and occupants on the wall, his eyes scanning the list until he located the one he was looking for. Top floor. Figures. Dick exited the building and circled around the back, eyes searching for numbers on doors. He finally gave up, figuring that they were only visible on the inside, and instead looked for a way to scale the building.

He managed to locate a tree near the east corner, tall, with branches extending almost onto one of the balconies. The acrobat leaped up, climbing nimbly up to the right height before scurrying across a protruding branch until it began to bend and then jumping onto the balcony. He landed in a crouch, silent as a ghost, before taking in the appearance of the balcony. Not the right one. He flipped across onto the next-door railing and did the same, repeating this until he landed on the last balcony on that side of the building. His eyes took in the scuffs on the railing, the muddy boot prints on the rug, and the two shafts lying on the ground next to a dead plant. This was it.

Dick slid his sunglasses on before trying the sliding glass door. He found that it was locked so instead began rapping insistently, but rhythmically on the window. It was quiet, so as not to wake the neighbors, but also steadily so as to be easily mistaken for something else did they happen to hear it. After a minute or so of knocking the blinds drawn over the door were wrenched open and a very familiar face peered through the glass. The face scowled upon seeing Dick, though it saw Robin, but proceeded to unlock the door and throw it open.

“What are doing here?”

“You should really water your plants, Roy.” Dick’s voice was quiet as he pushed past the older man, not in the mood for a spat.

“I never invited you in.”

Dick shrugged, watching as Roy, who he now noticed was dressed only in sweatpants, closed the door and slid the blinds back in place. The apartment was large, for an apartment for one; the room they stood in had a large TV against one wall, a leather couch on the other with a chair and a coffee table as well. The room led to another, presumably a kitchen and then a hallway branched off which most likely led to the bedroom. The current room was spacious, sparsely decorated and lacking furniture, but Dick could tell that it was a nice apartment.

“Nice place,” he muttered, shivering slightly in his damp clothes.

“What are you doing here?” Roy crossed his arms, looking ticked off. “And why are you wet?”

“It’s raining in Gotham. And I haven’t seen you in a while; wanted to stop by.”

“Likely.”

Dick shrugged, wanting nothing more than to get out of his wet clothes but not wanting to give Roy any satisfaction. Why had he come here anyway?

“Listen, Wonder Boy-”

“You sound like Artemis.”

Roy glared. “If you’re not gonna tell me what you’re doing here then I’m gonna call the cops.”

“Low blow.”

Roy continued glaring, obviously not very happy about being woken up at two in the morning. His hair stuck up at odd angles and he was shirtless, his eyes still bleary with sleep.

“Fine,” Dick muttered. “I need a place to stay tonight.”

“What, Batsy kick you out?”