THE DEBT

PROLOGUE

LOCATION UNKNOWN

MIDDLE EAST

FOUR MONTHS AGO

A figure shrouded in black met another in a sandy wasteland. The second figure, holding a machine gun and wearing body armor, nodded and gestured to the first, leading him to a cave in the cliff face. Once inside, the first figure pulled back his hood and looked around, showing Batman in his accustomed dress.

Ra's al Ghul strode forward, a smile on his face. "Welcome, Detective. I am gratified that you would approach me for assistance. Usually we work at cross purposes. Come, have some tea. You must be tired from your long journey." Ra's led him to a carpeted area where a small round table held a steaming brass teapot and cups. At Ra's gesture, Batman sat down and accepted a cup of tea, although careful not to drink any. Ra's noticed and smiled knowingly. "Now. How can I help you? Something to do with the Young Detective's new abilities?"

Batman quirked an eyebrow. "You know about that, then?"

"I keep myself informed about you and your 'family'." Ra's eyes glittered and he put the cup down. "Time grows short?"

"He needs a treatment," Batman admitted, putting down his own cup. "Current science doesn't have much to offer him. It must be soon, he's already showing small signs of deterioration."

"I see," Ra's gave Batman a speculative look. "There will be a price."

"I require assurances that the cure will be effective," Batman countered. "And I won't kill for you."

Ra's nodded. "I am well aware of your ethical constraints. Very well, I believe that we can do business. My organization controls a system of Lazarus pits, as you know."

"Lazarus water kills the living," Batman replied.

"It kills when undiluted. Its effect can be...modified... by certain chemical and herbal additives. That will make it an effective cure for the Young Detective's malady. I can have a preparation ready for you within a few hours." Ra's watched Batman's expression closely, like a predatory animal sizing up its next meal.

"And the price?" Batman's eagerness to deal was restrained, but Al Ghul had known the man for years and he knew that he held his old nemesis in his hand.

"A favor. At some time in the future, your assistance on one of my projects at a place and time of my choice. I will not ask you to kill, but I will require your full attention to my interests." Ra's green eyes seemed to gleam with avarice.

"And if I renege on the deal?" Batman asked, almost casually.

"The Young Detective is dying at present. That condition can be restored to him and assuredly will be if you were so dishonorable as to break our agreement." Ra's met Batman's gaze. "But I know you for an honorable man and am confident that you will keep our bargain. Is it agreed?"

Batman nodded and held out his right hand and Ra's shook it. "Very well," Ra's said. "I will return with the preparation you need and instructions in its use," Ra's cocked his head and smiled again. "Our children are our legacy and must be protected." He got up and left the seating area.

When Ra's was out of sight, Batman's rigid posture slumped a little.

WAYNE MANSION

GOTHAM CITY

SIX WEEKS LATER

Bruce Wayne sat at the desk he'd had moved into Dick's sick room. He'd taken Dr. Mid-Nite's instructions to heart and spent much of his day in the room with his son. Batman had disappeared from the streets of Gotham as the entire household waited for the inevitable.

The entire JLA had come to visit to present their thanks and their condolences. The T'Shal had left the planet, literally dropping whatever they had been doing in their rush for their space ships. Masses of incomprehensible T'Shal technology was left behind and S.T.A.R. Labs' scientists were having a field day studying it.

Life at Wayne Manor was much quieter. Wayne Enterprises had let it be known that Dick Grayson had suffered a head injury in a car accident and was not expected to recover. Consequently, Bruce Wayne's absence from his usual social commitments went unremarked. The Young Justice team had taken up residence in Gotham and were known to be taking Batman's place for unspecified reasons.

At noon, Alfred brought in a tray with Bruce's lunch and set it on a side table. "Your luncheon, sir," the old butler said, then moved over to the bed. "It's time for the young master's infusion."

Bruce put down the document he had been studying. He had lost a considerable amount of weight over the intervening weeks; his eyes were quiet but shadowed with grief. "Is there any point, old friend? This...shell..isn't Dick. He wanted to die cleanly, not like this."

"Where there is life, there is hope," Alfred said as he adjusted the picc line that had been installed to facilitate infusion of the various drugs that maintained Dick's life. He added a drip bag with a solution of Ra's al Ghul's chemical and stood back to make sure that it was working. "Besides, we do not know that Ra's al Ghul truly cheated you, sir. He has always wanted your cooperation. Surely he knows that if Master Dick does not fully recover that you will never fulfill your end of the bargain."

Bruce got up and took up his position at the foot of Dick's bed. As usual, his son's bright blue eyes were open and staring unfocused at the ceiling. "I think that I was cheated, Alfred. Why? I don't know. When Dick is...gone...I'll be taking that up directly with Ra's al Ghul." His eyes took on a deep icy cast. Having his hopes killed so thoroughly hadn't left him in a forgiving mood.

"I am sorry to hear that, Detective," Ra's al Ghul's voice rang through the room. "I am equally dismayed to hear that the treatment has not had the success which we both hoped for. Since I am an honorable man, I have taken the liberty of preparing a stronger version. I ask only that the original bargain be sustained." In his long-fingered hand, al Ghul held a clear glass phial containing a greenish liquid.

Bruce assessed al Ghul for a long minute before scooping up the phial and handing it to Alfred. "How is it administered?"

"All of it, in a single dose. It will either cure or kill." Ra's nodded to Batman and slipped away.

"Do you want to risk this, sir?" Alfred eyed the phial in his hand doubtfully.

"This is the life that Dick wanted to avoid, so much that he took on a suicide mission," Bruce said. "He, of all people, would want us to try this. Do it."

Bruce watched tensely as Alfred prepared a hypodermic with the undiluted chemical in it and injected it into Dick's line. Then they both sat down to watch and wait.

For sixteen hours, nothing happened. Bruce had sent a protesting Alfred off to bed when it was clear that nothing was happening, but remained behind himself. Seated in a wing chair next to the bed, Bruce spent the time remembering the years since he'd adopted an eight year old circus orphan. Dick had been outgoing, chatty, friendly to everyone. He was the exact opposite of the cautious, quiet Bruce Wayne. The light that the boy had brought to the gloomy mansion had been incredible. Bruce himself hadn't realized just what a difference Dick made until the boy had left to make his own way in the world. He was still sorry that he'd fired Dick as Robin but had to admit that the boy had outgrown the role. He'd needed to be pushed out of the nest, although if he had to do it over, Bruce would have eased him out more gently.

Ra's had said that the chemical would kill or cure. Either outcome was acceptable, Bruce realized. He couldn't condemn someone he loved so much to a living hell. He reached out and took the boy's hand, realizing that Dick had grown much quieter in the past hour. It was ending, then.

Bruce brushed at his eyes, although there was no one there to care if he cried. "Dick, I'm sorry that I wasn't the father you needed. I did my best," he said softly, hoping that his son would hear him somehow.

He heard Dick's breathing slow and soften. The rigidity in his son's body began to relax. The boy's eyes had closed long since and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully at last.

"Good bye, Dick," Bruce bent over and gently kissed his son's forehead. He sat back and realized that, rather than cooling, his son's body seemed warmer than it had earlier. He put a hand on the boy's forehead, then on his cheek. "Dick?"

Dick's eyes began moving under the closed lids, then slowly his eyes opened. They looked up at the ceiling, then around the room, finally focusing on Bruce's face.

"Bruce...?" Dick asked in a hoarse voice. "Why are you crying?"

Bruce ran an arm over his eyes, not letting go of Dick's hand. "Me? I never cry," he said with an enormous grin. "Welcome back."

"What..?" Dick looked around the room and noticed the medical equipment. "What happened? Was it the Joker?"

"Don't you remember? The T'Shal?" Bruce asked.

"The who?" Dick frowned, clearly racking his brains. "I don't know who you're talking about."

Bruce's eyes widened. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh...I was programming computers at the Watchtower...I don't remember much after..." Dick's face creased with worry. "What did I miss? Why don't I remember?"

Bruce grinned and moved over to the phone. "It's a very long story. I'll tell you sometime. But I think Alfred will want to see you right now."

"Uh...okay," Dick answered. "When can I get out of bed?" He moved his legs and arms. "How long have I been here?"

Bruce said a quick word to Alfred, then pushed Dick back into the bed. "You've been here for quite a while. Give it time, okay? You've only just woken up." Bruce laughed, then his face grew serious. "Damn."

"What's wrong, Bruce?" Dick asked.

"I'm going to have to pay back my debt to Ra's al Ghul now.'

THE DEBT-CHAPTER ONE

WAYNE MANOR

SIX WEEKS AND TWO HOURS LATER

Dick sat up in bed with difficulty. Even harder was believing the story Bruce and Alfred had been telling him. If his own body hadn't felt weak and ill, he'd suspect that Bruce was playing some weird practical joke.

"I did what?" Dick asked incredulously, looking frantically from Alfred to Bruce and back again.

"You chased the T'Shal off the planet," Bruce said with the smile that hadn't left his face in the two hours Dick had been awake. "You blasted them with your mind. You made them feel what it was like to be tortured by the Machine and threatened them that if they so much as thought about Earth again, they'd have that feeling again permanently lodged in their minds. J'onn told me that every telepath on Earth heard you." Bruce's expression shifted. "Of course, your doing that was against orders, mine and Dr. Mid-nite. You knew that overextending your powers would probably kill you. As it was, your team pulled you out and brought you back to the Watchtower."

"And you got my treatment from Ra's al Ghul?" Dick's voice rose with indignation. "He'd never do you a favor just because he likes you, Bruce." Dick frowned "What did you promise him?"

"Not relevant, Dick," Bruce said flatly. "That's between me and Ra's." He got up and went for the phone. "I think we need to get you to Dr. Mid-Nite and have him take a look at you. I want to know how recovered you are."

"You mean, maybe I'm still doomed to be a vegetable?" Dick asked with dismay. "Bad enough that I have one of Ra's potions floating around in my bloodstream. How do you know it doesn't have any other side effects?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Don't forget that you are already experiencing the best side-effect. You are back with the living, young man, and don't forget it."

Dick smiled at the old man and leaned back against his pillows, suddenly exhausted. Seeing that he was tired, both men reluctantly left the room. Dick let his eyes close and worried. How much had he forgotten? He didn't remember fighting in a war, getting captured, getting tortured for goodness' sake! Saving the world? And now he had some kind of Lazarus chemical in his bloodstream...

Bruce made his call to Dr. Mid-Nite from the batcave. Mid-Nite was jubilant at the news. "Of course I'll see him. Bring him in tomorrow and I'll run the tests. Why, this is wonderful news, Batman." Bruce smiled back.

"I have to agree, Doctor. We'll see you tomorrow." From there, he connected to Superman.

Clark Kent's serious face looked back at him from the screen. Bruce saw Kent's office in the background. "Batman," Kent answered solemnly. "Do you have news?"

Knowing what Kent was expecting, Bruce allowed his face to spread into a broad grin. "He's awake."

Clark's eyes widened. "It worked, then? Finally? Bruce, that's terrific! How is he?"

"So far, so good," Bruce replied. "We'll be at the Watchtower tomorrow to find out what his status is, but so far Dick is coherent and oriented. He's lost his memory of the entire T'Shal war, though, which I don't consider a loss under the circumstances."

"I can see why," Superman replied. "Well, that's a relief. You've made my day," still smiling, Clark cut the line.

Bruce stopped for a moment, just to breathe, then made the next call.

Outside in the hallway, Alfred stopped Bruce from going back into Dick's room. "You'll only wake him and he needs his rest," Alfred insisted.

Bruce smiled ironically. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but I can't shake the feeling that if he sleeps again it'll be forever and we'll have lost him. I just want to watch over him to make sure he's okay."

Alfred smiled back. "Understandable, sir. But you'll have to take this one on faith, that the lad is truly on the mend."

Bruce sighed, glancing at the closed door. "All right. I'll leave him alone but I don't know how you can keep from hovering any more than I can."

Alfred watched him go, then went to the butler's pantry and turned on the security camera in Dick's room. He polished the silver while watching his adopted grandson sleep.

THE NEXT DAY

THE WATCHTOWER

MEDICAL BAY

"Well, I don't know if it was Lazarus water or something else, but that's quite a difference," Dr. Mid-Nite put the newest MRI scan up on the screens. Where, in the previous scan, Dick's brain had been permeated with holes, the current MRI scan showed a whole brain. "No lesions at all," Dr. Mid-Nite said happily. "Nightwing, do you still have any psychic ability?"

Dick, sitting on the examination table, shrugged. "I don't remember having them in the first place."

Mid-Nite put a pencil on the table. "See if you can lift that with your mind," he ordered.

Dick looked doubtfully at the pencil, but closed his eyes and tried. Nothing happened. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing, but I don't think it's working."

"Maybe I can help," J'onn J'onzz opened the door and came in. "I heard from Superman that Nightwing was recovering and I had to verify this myself. Now I see that he is indeed much better. Nightwing, may I scan you?"

Nightwing half-smiled. "Why not? Everyone else is." J'onn stood next to Nightwing, closed his eyes and went silent for a few minutes. At last, J'onn opened them again with an even broader smile. "I read no active psychic ability; no telepathy and no telekinesis. No more than, in Dick's case, just a touch of telekinesis and the bit of telepathy that makes him good on a team."

Batman's stance relaxed. "Thank goodness for that. He just needs to recover from a month spent in a hospital bed and he's good as new?"

"Physical therapy is what I would order now," Mid-Night suggested.

"So, I can get out of bed now?" Dick hopped off the examining table and almost fell over until Batman caught him.

"You'll need some time before you're back up to speed," Batman said.

"Not that long," Dick said. "You just watch me."

Batman covered his smile with a hand. "Of course."

TWO DAYS LATER

WAYNE MANOR

Dick was walking with difficulty around his room when Alfred announced visitors. "Your friends from Young Justice have arrived to see you, sir," Alfred moved forward to help an unsteady Master Dick into a wing chair.

"Young Justice?" Dick said quizzically. "But, they don't know my real name..."

"Master Bruce decided that it would be for the best to inform them. They have been using the batcave for the past month and are living in the penthouse of the Wayne Building for the time being," Alfred said calmly.

"Wait a minute, for five years I lived with my eyes covered because Bruce was afraid about security and now, he just decided to tell them who we are?"

"I was not privy to Master Bruce's reasons for the disclosure, but I believe it may have something to do with his upcoming business trip and a need for a substitute in Gotham during his absence and your convalescence. Now, shall I let your friends in to see you or shall I tell them that you are indisposed?" Alfred waited patiently for an answer.

"Um...yeah..of course. Let them in," Dick said. "It's going to feel weird seeing them without a mask on my face."

"You will become accustomed to it, I am sure," Alfred replied with a gleam in his eye. "I will bring them upstairs forthwith."

When the door opened, Dick found himself surrounded by his teammates, all busily hugging him frantically. "You're not dead," Wally muttered. "I'm so glad you're not dead, Rob. Or a vegetable."

Artemis spared Wally a brief look, then hugged Dick even harder. "You're finally okay. That damned treatment took too long to work; you had us worried." She straightened up and grinned. "And now I know why you ran up to me at Gotham Academy and took my picture, then told me we'd laugh about it later. You were such a twerp!"

Dick grinned back. "Told ya we'd laugh about it. It just took longer than I expected."

Artemis shook her head. "And who knew that playboy, dimwitted Bruce Wayne was actually Batman. But I should have figured out that his circus-orphan ward was you!"

"I'm glad you didn't," Dick said. "Bruce would have been down on me for breaking security." He looked over at M'gann, who was studying him thoughtfully. "Well? Am I still a telepath?"

M'gann shook her head. "No. No, you aren't any more. You feel like you again."

"Not exactly all of me. I don't remember any of it," Dick said. "The war, getting captured, nothing at all. Must have been great to be able to read minds."

"I don't think you liked it," Conner broke in. "After we rescued you the first time, you didn't say much but you looked angry. And sad."

"There was a reason for that," Alfred, who was serving drinks, handed a Jolt Cola to Wally and an orange juice to Conner. "Master Dick was dying. The same condition that had given him the powers was also killing him slowly. He didn't want anyone told."

Dick's team mates exchanged angry glances. "You didn't want us told?" Artemis demanded. "We had a right to know!"

"I had a feeling it was something like that," Wally said. "Hey!" he said when the team turned their glares on him. "You know somebody for a long time, you can tell when something's off, okay?"

"Well, don't blame me," Dick said easily, taking his iced tea from Alfred. "I don't remember a thing. I just remember Batman firing me as Robin, then programming a bunch of computers at the Watchtower for Superman. I just wish I could believe I did all the heroic things you say I did."

"Oh, you did 'em," Wally said. "My back still has a crick in it from carrying you out of that T'Shal base. I swear, your uniform was smoking and half melted when I got to you."

"When will you be out of bed and back on patrol with us?" Conner asked.

"I don't know," Dick said. "How long was I out? Six weeks? I'll probably have to build up again; a few weeks I guess. How are you guys liking Gotham?"

Artemis snorted. "Gotham is just as dirty and crime-ridden as it's always been, thank you. I'm just glad that Bruce is letting us stay in the penthouse while we're here. I'm not used to luxury like that."

"You should see the kitchen," M'gann added with eyes aglow. "It has a professional kitchen with a full set of Le Creuset cookware! Alfred has given me some of his best recipes to try as well."

Dick's eyes widened. "Not the hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookie recipes...? Alfred, you don't give those to anybody!"

Alfred smiled and took the empty glass away from him. "I do make exceptions from time to time. I sense that M'gann will be an exceptional cook in time."

WAYNE MANOR

BRUCE WAYNE'S STUDY

Bruce hear the happy sound of young voices coming down the hall from Dick's room. He was glad that he'd decided to let the team in on Dick's true identity, and his own while he was at it. Bruce hear the happy sound of young voices coming down the hall from Dick's room. He was glad that he'd decided to let the team in on Dick's true identity, and his own while he was at it. At the time he'd wanted the team to substitute for Batman while he kept his death-watch, and he'd known that Dick would want them at his funeral. But now that the treatment had actually worked, they were still needed. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. But now that the treatment had actually worked, they were still needed. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Yes, this is Batman," he said into the receiver. "Tell Ra's al Ghul that I'm ready to fulfill my part of the bargain. I understand. Yes...I see. I'll be there tomorrow." Putting the phone down again, Bruce began to pack a bag.