Faye Feng → Dick Grayson ✔

Atonement

"Hold on, just to recap – when you followed Lydia Whitegate, she took a bus out of the city."

"Correct."

"And you couldn't find out where she was going because you got distracted by Slade, so you're going to try and follow her again the day after tomorrow, which we know because Barbara hacked her phone and found her schedule. Meanwhile, I'm going to stay here and keep working on the murders so far."

"All of them, Dick, not just the ones in the last 12 hours - "

"Master Wayne," Alfred's voice came from the radio sitting on the table. "There is a visitor at the gate."

Bruce frowned, his detective work interrupted. The blue monitors of the supercomputer in the Batcave continued to shine – they had been for the last twelve hours. "Who is it?"

"Miss Feng. She's asking for Master Dick."

The mention of her name pulled Dick from his trance. He rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his hands. His vision had turned momentarily fuzzy. "What?"

"Her driver is asking for access to the grounds."

Deathstroke's words rang like alarm bells in Dick's head. He shook his head. "No, I can't see her."

Alfred hesitated. "Are you sure, Master Dick?"

"I'm not putting her in danger."

Bruce gave his ward a careful look. "You're Dick right now, not Robin. Besides, this is an opportunity for us to figure out what happened last night."

They were close. Barbara had left before the sun rose so that her father wouldn't note her absence, but she had done enough digging to help. 15 had been found dead, yet only one had had their throat cut in Deathstroke's fashion. Others had passed from car crashes and robberies, all staged, they were sure of it; traffic accidents could be explained away by intoxication, and in cases concerning perpetrators, every one of them had admitted to their guilt. All were wealthy and all had been to the Feng party.

The current theory was that the Fengs had hired someone else in addition to Deathstroke, most likely whoever Faye had been talking to on her jet to Paris – only a magic user could implant memories (the confessions were too perfect), manipulate steering wheels and lock brakes. Deathstroke had been a diversion to make the other accidents look even realer, since the mercenary had established his cut-throat MO.

Even so, too many questions remained: Was it even the Fengs, or was it just Sandra, or Jason, or even Faye? If so, why were they killing? Who had they hired? How much had they offered Deathstroke and the other mercenary? And so on.

Now Faye was right outside their door, an answer to all of them, and Dick was going to squander that chance.

He sighed, getting up from his seat. "Let her in. I'll be up."

"Yes, sir."

Dick groaned as life returned to his body. He had sat motionless as soon as they had returned to the Batcave. "You're going to stay here?"

Bruce nodded. "We've still got a lot of work to do." He cast Dick a glance, taking in his disheveled hair and the red and black costume cast onto the floor. "When you're done talking to her, go to bed."

Dick scoffed as he turned around, making his way to the elevator. "No way in hell."

"You're going to shut down in approximately thirty minutes. That wasn't a question."

He only waved a dismissive hand without looking behind him. The elevator doors closed, and Bruce sighed, alone in the cave. Dick was stubborn, and whose fault was that?