I'm in Gotham city on a Saturday night, and instead of partying I'm tailing an ambulance to mental hospital to make sure it gets there without a hitch. It's my own fault, really. I met up with Bruce on the roof of WayneTech Tower, and he had a slight odor of perfume about him. We've all known about his thing with Selina for some time now, and though I'm not thrilled he's dating a thief, I'm glad he's happy.
In retrospect, then, "Holy Cathouse Batman! What's that smell?" probably wasn't the best way to greet him. Hence my assignment; that'll teach me to mouth off.
I wonder, sometimes, if there are any happy, normal, functional families in Gotham City. If there are, I should probably put them on the endangered species list or something, because everyone I know in this city has a screwed up home life. Alfred was estranged for his father until the old man was on his deathbed. Bruce's parents died in his arms before he even hit puberty. Tim was having problems with his dad and didn't much care for his step-mom, and they were murdered before he could reconcile.
As for the Rogues…well, I guess you could scrape together a normal family if you put used bits from all the families. You know, Harvey Dent's mother, Victor Fries' father (his mother was a boozer, I'm told) , the Riddler's brother (met him once, he seemed nice), Mad Hatter's family dog, and so on. God only knows what the Joker would bring though- I keep having visions of an older couple, both marble-white and green haired. Dad in purple smoking jacket, complete with pipe and slippers, Mom in a purple and orange check dress serving up meat pies of suspicious origin. Disturbing.
The closest to normal are probably Babs and her dad the Commissioner. They get along pretty well, even if he does get a little over-protective at times. I remember when I first started formally dating her- he took me aside, showed me his pistol and assured me that no police man in this city would ever arrest him if "something were to happen". Yeah, that got things off to a romantic start (especially since we'd been sleeping together for weeks before that). But, for all that, they aren't father and daughter. He's her uncle, who took her in when she was about the age I was when Bruce adopted me. Maybe that makes things easier for them- to be related but not parent-and-child. Or maybe it's the fact that she's a woman; she doesn't have to prove herself to the old man. I don't know; I've never asked (and because I like my testicles where they are I never will). Whatever it is, they're really close.
But even they don't have a perfect family life. Jim is divorced, and estranged from his ex and his son. In fact, I can't recall hearing the boy's name more than five times in as many years. Still, they soldier on together, making a happy family as best they can.
Whereas me and Bruce…
Look, despite what anyone may say, I really am grateful to Bruce for everything he's done for me. He gave me a home when my parents died and social services wanted to put me in an orphanage. He was as warm and loving as he is capable of being, and never treated me as anything less than his son. He provided me with everything I could ever need- including a purpose. He saved my life (as Batman) more times than I can even count. There has seldom been a doubt in my mind that he loves me, that he cares for me, that he would die to protect me.
And that was the problem.
When the Joker shot me, he tried to bench me as Robin. At the time I thought it was just Bruce being an asshole. 'You screwed up badly and now I don't trust you' kind of thing. It took me years to see that he wasn't angry, but frightened. It took the murder of Jason Todd to bring home that he'd been right to worry- that could so easily have been me dying that it scares me even now.
But even that fear wasn't the root of the problem. Bruce had trouble dealing with older boys- little kids he could handle, but he had no idea how to handle me once I was out of short pants. It was only a few years ago that I truly understood why he had so much trouble with my growing up.
See, Bruce modeled his behavior to me on the way his dad treated him- treating his memories like a rough guide to fatherhood. I've heard that Thomas Wayne was a loving father, but like a lot of old school WASPs had a hard time showing it. So, Bruce was always sparse with the open affection. Thomas never tolerated lying, so Bruce doesn't. Trouble is, Thomas died before Bruce hit adolescence. Bruce's guidebook was missing the most difficult chapter- and he didn't know how to deal. So, he ignored it, and kept treating me like a kid.
And then wondered why I got resentful.
It took much longer than it should have to mend our fences- Bruce wouldn't apologize and I preferred to wallow in angst (sometimes I'd like to go back in time, meet the younger me, and give me a serious ass-kicking just on general principles). Slowly, slowly, we're getting there – we can have civil conversations and we still work well together.
I think the biggest change occurred came just last week. I'd just brought the hammer down hard on some slave-traffickers in Bloodhaven. They had a slick little operation- buy young girls in the Third World, promise them greencards and visas, ship them over and put them out on the streets to work. They wrapped the whole thing up as a 'mail order bride' thing, but the papers didn't add up. Enter Nightwing, and his patented Fists of Fury. Now they're doing ten to twenty in the state Pen, while the girls are receiving help in getting home or getting visas. Not bad.
Bruce called me up. We did shoptalk for a bit, and then he blurts out that he heard about what happened and that he was proud of me. I was stunned into silence- it was only after he hung up in embarrassment that I realized how great those words, coming from him, made me feel.
He is my father. My mentor. My critic. My hero. My role model and my standard.
Batman.
A/N
Just one more to
go.
Coming soon… He is Legend.
