Sick Bird.

75. Knock.

_=_

"Now Dick, remember, don't leave my side. And more importantly, never let go of my hand. Not unless you want to be really responsible for my death," Sebastian said gravelly, hand in hand with the thirteen year old as they slowly walked up the steep slope to the looming gates of Wayne Manor.

"Okay," was Dick's muffled reply, his voice barely cutting through the thick red scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face.

Sebastian had bundled him up like a burrito, an experience Dick did not appreciate for the second time. But he couldn't say no, not when his dear kidnapper didn't want him to catch a cold.

And he had to admit, it was exceptionally chilly tonight.

"But why do we have to walk to the gates when we brought the car?" Dick asked a few moments later.

"It shows sincerity," Sebastian suddenly stopped walking, tugging Dick to a halt. "And you need the exercise."

Dick didn't believe that excuse for a second but he didn't comment on it, he was just happy to be home again.

He almost broke out into a sprint but Sebastian held him back.

Eventually they reached the grand gate of the manor.

"So . . ." Sebastian turned to Dick. "We just press the doorbell, or—"

"Are you afraid?" Dick snickered and slammed his hand on the button.

"You wouldn't understand," Sebastian said just as Alfred's voice erupted from the telecom.

"Yes?" Came the Butler's apathetic voice.

"It's Sebastian Treadwell, I made an appointment with Bruce Wayne for today."

"Oh, yes, the 9 o'clock. Do come in."

The gates opened and Sebastian's shoulders slumped. "You have no idea how scary he is," he continued.

"I live with him."

"You didn't kidnap his sick kid."

"Touché." Dick conceded defeat after a moment of silence. "I can't believe you made an appointment though, and it seemed to be planned beforehand. It makes me believe your reason for kidnapping me less and less."

"If I didn't make an appointment, did you expect me to vault over the gates and break in?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"It shows no sincerity."

"Sure," Dick said. "Now I know that you always planned on returning me."

"And I'm starting to regret it. I should have waited for you to die before stepping foot in Gotham. At least the trip would have been quiet and peaceful."

"But you never planned on letting me die."

"Stop fishing for answers, kid." Sebastian shot him an annoyed look.

"I'm not fishing, I'm just airing out a conclusion derived from various pieces of evidence that prove—"

"Don't play detective either."

"We're here," Sebastian added before Dick could whine, to get the boy's attention.

The bird stretched out his hand and knocked, much to Sebastian's horror.

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