Prompt Post - Part Nine [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]

[yj_anon]

THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

Part five here!

Part six here!

Part seven here!

Part eight here!

Feel free to reprompt posts from previous parts once. If you do so, I'd recommend leaving a link to your fill on the original prompt,

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Crossed Lines - The Secret 2b/?

[anonymous]

Once on the first floor, Damian turns the chair and makes his way towards the kitchens. It’s a bit far, but he’s gotten used to it. The chair glides soundlessly across the floor and he resists the urge to push it faster: Alfred would probably murder him if he found tire marks on the marble.

And then he hears something from the library. It almost sounds like hushed voices, but it can’t be. No one’s up at this hour, not normally, and there’s no TV in there. The doors are slightly ajar, allowing a narrow splash of light to cut across the darkened hallway.

Damian slows down, stopping just outside the doors. Dick and Bruce are inside, near the clock.

“…Not ready. I’m sorry,” Bruce says.

Damian can’t hear what his brother says. It’s too soft, but he does recognize the whiny tone - Dick’s not getting his way.

“Zucco will pay,” Bruce hisses with a frightening fervor. “I promise.”

Zucco? As in Tony Zucco? The guy that had threatened Pop Haly? The man everyone suspected had been the mastermind behind the tampering of their family’s lines on that night, but for some reason no one could get the charges to stick directly to Zucco, even with Dick’s testimony that he’d seen some of Zucco’s men hanging around. It was circumstantial at best.

Damian looks down at his useless legs. He wants Zucco to pay, too, but he doubts even someone as rich as Bruce Wayne can get the charges to stick to anyone other than the triggermen. It’s good on Bruce to try and assure his brother though, even if it’s an empty promise.

“But we do this as a team or not at all,” Bruce says sternly.

Dick’s still too quiet to hear properly.

“What about names?” Bruce asks.

The question is absurd. Damian frowns. What on earth are they talking about? And how did they get from Zucco to names? And why would it require a team effort?

Maybe they were talking about the trial or new evidence. Could Dick have remembered something that would crack the case?

He can’t hear Dick’s response, but Bruce’s next question makes his stomach drop: “What about your brother? Are you going to tell him?”