"Dad! Dad!!" James looked up from the video game he was playing to attempt to stop his father from vacuuming the room for the third time in the past hour. "Dad! The floor is clean! You're driving me nuts!" His words were lost as Dick started the vacuum. James sighed and went back to his game, throwing his full concentration into it so he didn't have to watch his father.
Dick had already made fancy little snacks of the kind Alfred used to make when he knew that Bruce wouldn't have time or inclination to eat a real meal. Alfred. Dick had always known that he had been invaluable to Bruce and to Bruce's relationship with his family, but it wasn't until after he died that Dick realized that he was absolutely essential. The last time Dick had spoken to his surrogate father was at Alfred's funeral. Dick had also stocked the refrigerator with Bruce's favorite types of drinks; he didn't expect that that would have changed in even twenty years. He was as ready as he could be, but Dick never could sit still, especially before an event as profound as this, so he was..vacuuming.
After sixteen years of life with his father, James knew the best thing to do in this kind of situation was to ignore him. He was so focused on his game that he jumped when Roy entered the room. "Hey, kiddo," the archer greeted over the sound of the vacuum. He took one look at Dick and asked, "What's with him?"
"Hey, Uncle Roy," James greeted, "Bruce is coming," he answered with a deadpan expression. He was actually more excited then he was letting on; all his life he had wanted to meet the man who had raised his father; but his father's inability to sit still had caused his excitement to be overrun by frustration. While James had seen his father obsess before, he couldn't remember a time when it was this bad.
"Bruce..Br.wait," Roy waved James into the next room so they didn't have to yell. Roy continued at a normal voice, "Bruce who?"
"Bruce who?!" James echoed, "Bruce! You know..Dad's dad.."
"Bruce Wayne?! You're kidding me!"
"Would I kid you?" James said in mock seriousness.
Roy responded with a grin and a light hit on the back of James' head as he said, "Smart aleck." James grinned back. James' Uncle Roy was his favorite of his aunts and uncles. Of all his relatives, Roy kept things light, and always seemed to know when James' father needed to be tempered. James had often thought that he wouldn't have survived this long with his father if it hadn't been for Roy. But then Lian said that all sixteen-year-olds thought that way about their parents.
"Yeah. He called yesterday, and Dad invited him over. Lian's with him, by the way. And Dad invited the kid that's helping Bruce. I think I heard Dad say his name is Terry."
"He just called? Out of the blue?" Roy asked, surprised.
"Well they called to find out about you." Roy had just been released from the hospital after successfully fighting a virus that would have ended his archery career. "Plus I think Dad sent a note with Lian. He didn't say anything about it, but I think I saw him slip it to her just as she left for Gotham."
"Huh," Roy said thoughtfully. He couldn't imagine Bruce actually being interested in his well-being even after hindsight had long ago shown Roy how Bruce had cared when Roy was a teenager. He still thought of Bruce as an emotionless, frightening man. Roy consciously broke his train of thought and said, "Come on, let's go rescue your dad from himself."
Roy led his nephew back into the family room, and he approached his friend. Dick had his back to Roy, and had just vacuumed over the same patch of floor for the fourth time. Roy cautiously placed his hand on Dick's shoulder, and prepared to duck. Instead of having the expected reaction, Dick simply turned around, saw Roy, and switched off the vacuum. "Hey, Roy. Didn't see you come in."
"No kidding, Batboy." Roy received the usual glare. Both men were well into their fifties, yet Roy still called Dick by the nickname he had had since they were teens. For the past twenty years though, Roy called his friend by the name to remind Dick of his father, even though Roy knew that was exactly why Dick hated the name now. For only a few times in the past years did Dick allow Roy to start a serious conversation about trying to reconcile with Bruce. Bruce always did scare the archer, but ever since he lost his own few father figures, Roy had always recognized the importance of the father-son relationship, and didn't like one bit that Dick had let his relationship with Bruce sour so badly. "James told me why you're such a wreck. You did the right thing, Dick. Everything'll turn out."
"I hope you're right. I'm fully expecting to feel ten again." Addressing his son, Dick continued, "Bruce can be tough, James. If you think I'm bad, he's ten times worse. Don't let him get you down, ok?"
"Yeah, I know. I got an idea about him by all that I've read." Ever since James could read, he had read on his own about his grandfather. It certainly helped that Bruce was a public figure, but any time he had tried to ask his own father about Bruce, he had never received an answer. He hadn't tried for years though. Dick didn't hinder his son's research into Bruce's past and character, but he had never offered information either.
"Sorry, kid," Roy answered, "All those articles you've collected on him don't even come close to describing Bruce. I think he cares--certainly all he's done for justice shows that, and he's saved my life more than once--but you've got to dig deep to find it. And he's stubborn as all hell. Like a certain other Gothamite we all know and love." He looked sideways at Dick and grinned, receiving a nasty look in return. "How 'bout it, Dick?" Roy thought his friend looked only slightly more calm than he had a moment ago.
Dick nodded to his lifetime friend. "Sounds about right. You want to stick around? He's due any minute."
"Naa. I'd like to see him though. See how he's doing and thank him. I know he had to have helped Lian find Cheshire. And I can take Lian home when they get here."
"She's not a little girl anymore you know," Dick half-teased, "I'm sure she can find her own way home."
"Dick, she'll always be my little girl. You should know that." Roy smiled. Dick smiled and nodded in return.
Dick was about to say something when the doorbell rang. He changed his words and said, "Here we go."
Roy volunteered, "Want me to get it?"
"Nah, I've got to do this. Thanks though. Ready James?" Dick went to the front door followed by James and Roy. He took a deep breath as he was taught a long time ago--in through the nose, out through the mouth--and opened the door.
Dick felt his heart pounding in his chest as he faced the man who had rescued him forty years ago. "Hi, Bruce," he said nervously. "Come in." He moved to clear a path into his home, as James and Roy moved to stay behind him. Dick tried to lose some of the nervousness in his smile as he looked at the boy--he figured it must be Terry--who followed Bruce, and succeeded a little more as Lian passed him. She returned his smile with her own sympathetic one and gave him a supportive hug before she continued, beaming, into her father's arms. Over his shoulder, Dick heard them exchange words; he guessed Lian was expressing pleasure at seeing her father well again.
He turned to Bruce. He guessed he was the only one in the room that could see how nervous Bruce really was. "It's nice to see you again. It's been too long." He turned to his son. "Bruce, this is James. Your grandson."
"Nice to meet you, sir," James said formally, offering his right hand.
Slightly amused, Bruce smiled and took his grandson's hand. "Nice to meet you, James. Taking care of your father?"
"Yes, sir," James smiled.
Bruce shifted his gaze to Roy and nodded slightly, "Hello, Roy. It's nice to see you well."
"Thanks, Bruce. Same here," Roy smiled uneasily, "Thank you for helping Lian."
"It was my pleasure. You've raised a fine young woman," Bruce complemented.
The uneasiness left Roy's smile as he returned, "Thank you, Bruce. Who's your friend?"
"This is Terry, Dad," Lian offered, putting her arm around her father and smiling at Terry as she said it. "He's Bruce's assistant."
"How're ya doin'?" Terry asked Roy. He was trying to ignore the apprehensive air around him.
"Pretty good, Terry. Nice to meet you." Roy's eyes started to twinkle with mischief, "So, you surviving working for the great Bruce Wayne?"
"Roy," Bruce protested good-naturedly.
Terry grinned. He had a good feeling about Lian's father. He looked at the man who was Bruce's son. Terry thought he looked awfully nervous, but he noticed Dick's striking blue eyes. When Lian first met him, she had commented that Terry's eyes were like Dick's. Roy followed Terry's gaze to his friend and said, "Well time for me to head out. Want a ride, princess?"
Lian blushed at her father's nickname for her and answered, "You bet."
Lian headed around Dick towards the door, and her father followed, taking his friend's forearm and with his eyes silently communicating his support. "I'll talk to you later, Dick," Roy said as he followed his daughter out the door.
Dick took a deep breath. "Please, come in." Dick lead Bruce, Terry, and James into the family room where he had been vacuuming obsessively fifteen minutes ago. The vacuum was still out, which Bruce noted with amusement. Dick indicated seats for his guests, and asked, "Something to drink?"
"Water will be fine, thank you," Bruce answered. Dick found himself relieved. That was what he would have guessed Bruce would have wanted. Maybe things were going to be ok after all.
"Terry? James?"
"I'll take a coke, Dad," James said. He wished he could make his father feel more comfortable, "Can I help you?"
"No, thanks, James. Terry?"
"Coke's fine, thanks." The tension in the air was starting to get to Terry and found himself tensing up.
Dick left the room to get the refreshments, and Terry looked at his employer. He thought Bruce looked calm. Too calm. As though he were at a stockholders' meeting with Derek Powers. Bruce started the conversation, "So, James, how are your grades?"
"A's and B's, sir. I do best in the social sciences like psychology."
Bruce nodded. "Dick was always good at those subjects too. You don't need to keep calling me sir, James. You'll make me feel old."
"Sorry, si..uh..Bruce?" Bruce nodded his approval. After a moment of silence, James offered, "Um..I'm the starting center for my school's hockey team too."
"Really?" Bruce sounded impressed. James thought he didn't seem as bad as Roy and his dad made him sound. "You have time to do that?" Ok, maybe he didn't quite know him yet, James amended.
"I insist that he does," Dick answered as he entered the room bearing a tray. He went to Bruce, Terry, and James in turn allowing them to take their beverage of choice off the tray. Dick continued, "When he was young, I insisted that James choose an extracurricular activity. I wanted him to have some semblance of a normal childhood. He chose hockey." Dick smiled at his son. "He's very good too," he added proudly.
James blushed. "How about you, Terry?" Dick asked, "Any sports?"
"Uh, I was on the wrestling team, but I got kicked off. I..uh..didn't get along with my teammates too well," Terry answered. "I don't have time to do anything except school and work now." He added quickly, "But I like working for Bruce. It's...interesting."
"I'll bet," Dick said. "I know he's tough, but you can learn an extraordinary amount from him." Dick avoided Bruce's gaze, "On any subject. " He said, "I'll be right back," and left the room.
Dick returned momentarily with the tray of snacks. He watched Bruce's reaction as he offered them, and saw what he was looking for. Bruce recognized them. He looked sadly into his son's eyes and asked solemnly, "How have you been, Dick?"
Dick shrugged, "Hanging in there. I'm a detective, first grade with the Blüdhaven police. They keep trying to promote me to a desk job, but you know me, can't sit still for a minute." Dick sat in a chair facing Bruce. "I've got a pretty good record, and I think I'm doing pretty well…"
"He's doing great," James interrupted. Terry watched his peer and found his thoughts straying to his own father who had been killed last year. "He's got the best percentages of closed cases, and they always give him the toughest." Bruce saw his grandson's face glow with pride, and his son's start to blush slightly.
Bruce's eyes smiled at James' pride and he asked his grandson, "How are you doing as Robin?"
"Uh, not bad, I guess. Dad's been teaching me Romany tricks." Bruce smiled knowingly at Dick and nodded. Dick was descended from Romany, and had always insisted that in order to master certain techniques, one had to have a Romany bloodline.
"I'm sure your father reminds you of this," Bruce started, "But don't ever lose sight of how dangerous what you do is. It's not fun."
"Yeah, I know. Ever since the time Dad got beaten up so bad that he almost died, I think of that every time." Dick winced at his son's words and stole a look at Bruce. Bruce was delivering a hard stare that demanded an explanation on the spot.
Dick sighed. "It happened last year as Nightwing. I was set up and captured. It's really a wonder the bad guys don't do that more often. I mean, if they really try, and there's enough of them, it wouldn't be hard. Unfortunately these guys realized it and got me."
"What did they want?" Bruce seemed like he was in indifferent detective mode, but Dick saw through the mask to his concern.
Dick shrugged, "I don't know."
"Dick.." Bruce prodded. Dick sighed. He never could hide anything from Bruce.
"They wanted to know your identity. I don't know why--it's not like you've been active in years. And they didn't even take off my mask. Found out later they were just a couple of clueless wonders. It's a wonder they even caught me."
"Dick, if that ever happens again, you tell them. I won't be responsible for your death. Especially now that you have a son. Terry and I can manage if the Batman identity is compromised." Right now, Terry wasn't sure he agreed with his employer; hearing how Nightwing was almost killed was starting to make him a even more nervous.
Terry and I. Dick thought, I used to be the second half of that pair. Dick looked silently at Terry and met his gaze. He looked like a nice young man, and Dick wondered how much Terry knew of Bruce and his relationship with his family. More importantly, Dick wondered what kind of impression Terry had of Bruce, and what kind of relationship they had. Did Terry fight him like Dick used to, or did he take Bruce's commanding nature more in stride like Sarah and Tim had? He noted that Terry didn't shy under his scrutiny, and he turned back to Bruce to find his surrogate father studying him impassively. He was willing to bet Bruce knew exactly what he was thinking, and that upset him. He addressed Bruce's words. "Seems I've heard that before," Dick said bitterly.
Dick was glad the kids were present, because he could feel his age-old anger rising, and it was easier to keep down because he wasn't alone with Bruce. Dick said tersely, "They didn't kill me. Roy and Lian helped James rescue me, and they got me to a hospital without much of a problem. Everything turned out ok."
"Why wasn't I told?" Bruce asked accusingly. "I know I scare Roy, but I should have been told. You're my son."
Dick sighed. He really was hoping to avoid this whole subject. He should have warned James not to bring it up. Well, now he had to answer. And he had to tell the truth; Bruce would know a lie. Careful not to let any apologetic tone in his voice; he'd be damned if he was going to apologize for anything; he said, "I had a standing order not to tell you if anything ever happened to me. Only if I am killed did I allow anyone to tell you. I didn't want you to worry about something you couldn't do anything about."
"Dick, I want to know if you're endangered. If nothing else, I want a chance to say goodbye."
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd come even if you knew." Dick said the words without really thinking, but as he was saying them, he knew he meant for them to sting at least a little.
"Dick, you're my *son,*" Bruce said, as though Dick should have known better. "And a son should never *ever* die for his father. And I've lost too many children in this vigilante war–Jason, Sarah, Tim.." He paused, "I should never have let Terry do this..."
Uh oh Terry thought. He could tell things were starting to get out of hand between father and son, and started to wonder if there was anything he could do to diffuse the situation.
"Tim died in a motorcycle accident, and you know it." Dick interrupted forcefully, "You know he hadn't put on a costume for the last twenty years before. His death had nothing to do with being a vigilante." It had been only two years since the accident, and mention of it still tore at Dick like a fresh wound. His voice started to rise uncontrollably, "And Sarah died trying to save a child from a storm drain in hurricane weather. Would you rather she hadn't tried at all?!" Dick skipped a minor beat when Bruce didn't interrupt him. Twenty years ago, he wouldn't have been able to get this far. He started shouting, "I've lost two of the most important people in my life in a three year span, and last year I was almost taken away from my son! Don't you tell me about loss!!" Through Dick's tirade, Bruce remained focused on his son and calmly took the verbal beating.
"Stop!!" Terry surprised even himself with his word. He composed himself a bit. "Look," he addressed Dick who had stopped shouting enough to glare at the boy, "Dick, I don't know you, but I know you must care about Bruce, or else you never would have written that note that started this whole thing. I also know that lost your parents when you were ten. I lost my dad last year, and if I had someone like Bruce who cared enough to take me in, I sure don't think I would be shouting at him like this!"
Terry was going to continue, and Dick was about to answer him angrily, when Bruce raised his hand. Bruce answered quietly, "Dick, don't you think their deaths affected me too? After Alfred, you and they were the closest I've ever had to family. Sarah was even my own biological daughter!" Bruce kept his tone level, "Do you have any idea what it's like to lose a child, Dick? I hope to God you never have to find out." He avoided glancing at James. "That's why I came. I've lost too much. I want my relationship with you back, Dick. I miss you."
Dick had been ready for a fight. He even offered the first blow, so he was completely taken aback at the frankness of Bruce's words. The years had changed him, Dick could see that now. He sighed and leaned back in the chair. The subject of his siblings' deaths had torn down Dick's defenses. Exhausted, he said, "I'm sorry, Bruce. I guess..I wasn't thinking." He sighed. "I'd love to have you back in my life, and as I said over the phone yesterday, I want James to know his grandfather. You have plenty of family left, Bruce; not just me and James. " Dick sat up. "Christmas is a month away, and I already know Kurt's coming with the twins. I can ask Steph if she'll bring Tim's kids. She's done it before."
"Steph?" Bruce knew Steph was an old friend of Tim's but she was not his widow. "What about Alyssa?"
"You really have been out of the loop, haven't you?" Dick sighed, "I'm sorry." He explained, "About 7 years ago, Tim and Alyssa divorced. Alyssa didn't want anything to do with Tim when he was alive, so she definitely doesn't want anything to do with his family now that he's dead. But she's used to letting her kids go for a few days each holiday, and Steph has brought them to us. Nick and Ivy are 15 and 13, by the way. And the twins are 25. So, you see, you have plenty of family, Bruce. You just had to claim us."