Bruce was taking a nap on the couch. A shaft of sunlight had fallen just so over his still form, warming him like a thick woolen blanket might. He shifted to one side and opened his eyes blearily.

It was so lovely to have a chance to nap in the afternoon, to catch up on some sleep. The boys were being wonderfully quiet. He wondered if they were dead. He wondered if he should be getting up to look and make sure they weren't. Just about the only thing that would keep Dick and Damian from screaming at each other at the top of their lungs would be death's icy embrace. Well, they were probably fine. It was such a nice afternoon; Bruce hardly wanted to get up.

All he needed now was a little one to curl up with. Everything would be just perfect if he had a small, warm body to snuggle while he slept. Perhaps he should track down Damian and see if he might like to take a nap. Bruce doubted it, but perhaps if Dick did some wheedling… Speaking of which, the soft, elegant steps of his eldest lite the room just as Bruce's thoughts were upon his youngest.

"Dick", he sighed, rolling over so he could gaze up at the boy. Dick smiled at him, but there was something behind his eyes, something Bruce couldn't quite identify.

"Hey", Bruce said, "Will you go get Damian for me? I need somebody small to snuggle for a while to make this day perfect."

"What", Dick said, "I managed to get the house absolutely silent for your nap and you still aren't satisfied."

"You did this for me", Bruce said happily, "that's nice of you son." Dick smiled and sat down on the couch next to him.

"I'll go get Damian in a minute, unless you want me to get him now."

"No", said Bruce, "don't worry about it."

"Do you want something to eat or I can get you a blanket or something."

"Are you ok?" Bruce asked, sitting up. He stretched for a moment and gazed at the younger man with interest lighting his features.

"Fine", Dick said.

"Not that I don't like you waiting on me or anything, but is there a reason." Dick shrugged. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder.

"I…uhh…I wanted to give you this", Dick said, handing him an envelope. Dick's best cursive graced the front, curving elegantly across the width of it, Bruce. Bruce gave Dick a quizzical look.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Just read it. I wrote it to you after your death, I was going to bury it with you, but with everything that happened, I just never got the chance, so I'm glad you actually get a chance to actually read it."

"Sit with me?" Bruce asked. Dick nodded. Bruce gave him a smile and opened the letter.

Dear Bruce,

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you like I should have been. I promised you so long ago when I was eight that I would always be there for you, always be there to protect you, but I failed. I failed to save you from the one thing that was too big for you to handle and now you're dead. You've fallen out of my life, not for the first time, but certainly for the last. It always seems to be that it's my fault, all my fault.

But, I don't want to play on my guilty conscience now. No, now I have to get some things off my chest, some things I should have said while you were still alive. The first is that you were stupid, arrogant, never listening, always right, insufferable and totally impossible to live with. We always had to do things your way or not at all, you always had to have everything perfect or there were fireworks and thunder crackling.

You were so mean to everyone that you ended up losing half your friends and the other half you ostracized so badly you almost lost them too. There were more people who wanted to kill you than there were stars in the sky and I had to stay up late at night worrying about all of them. You were way too overprotective and never figured out that once I was an adult, I could take care of myself.

You just had to get yourself drugged and get Talia pregnant, something Tim will never forgive you for by the way, and now we have Damian to deal with because of that. But that wasn't even the worst of it.

The most awful thing about it all was that, through thick and thin, through all the ups and downs and all the turmoil and strife, when I wished I could just chuck a brick at that thick head of yours and knock some sense in there, when I just wanted to leave you and your world behind, I never could. You, with all your insufferable and intolerable ways, wormed your way into my heart and I never could stop loving you.

Ohh God, how I loved you. I loved you so much, despite everything you were. But, now you know what I think of you. So, now all that's left is to say thanks.

Thank you Bruce, for taking in a frightened, pathetic, angry little eight year old who couldn't even pick himself up out of his own misery to get on with life. But, then again, when you lose everything, it's kind of hard to find yourself, especially when you're little. You helped me through everything though. A licensed, trained grief counselor wouldn't have been able to do any better because a man like that wouldn't have known what it felt like to go through the pain you and I did.

Thank you for playing cars for hours on end with me and being my racetrack whenever I needed one. Thank you for giving me horsey back rides and airplane rides and any other kind of ride I could possibly ask for. Thank you for lifting me up on your shoulders when I wasn't tall enough, for being there to catch me when I fell, for helping me pick up the pieces of my biggest disasters, and for always, always listening, no matter what it was I had to say. Thank you for being there.

Thank you for the warm nights with gentle hands stroking my back and soft kisses on my cheeks and forehead, for whispering sweet nothings in my ears, filling my head with all the things you thought of me, your own personal truths. How I was perfect in your eyes, how you thought I was the greatest human being that ever lived and how you loved to hold me, cuddle me, and never let me go.

Thank you for putting every single drawing I ever did for you up next to some famous painting you owned and showing them to everyone who came through like they were your prized possessions. I was looking through your stuff the other day and found a box. Inside was ever picture I ever drew for you. I couldn't believe you had saved them all.

Damian had some colorful things to say about their quality and my artistic talent, but I was so moved. I mean, I didn't think they were that amazing. Looking at them now, I think they suck. But, I could always see the truth in your eyes, how they were akin to Da Vinci and Michelangelo to you.

Thank you for your warm embrace, your sparkling eyes, your lap. Thank you for never raising a hand against me in anger, for always speaking your mind and for being both gentle and rough when you needed to be.

Thank you for being the one person I could always depend on. Thank you for always being on my side, even when I was wrong. Thank you for being the one person I could always go too when I needed advice, to just be myself, to be a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on, and someone to protect me, even when I didn't think I needed to be protected.

Thank you for always being there to hold me when I needed it, to sit quietly with me, for being the lap I could go to when I needed someone to stroke my hair and look into my eyes, telling me in the plainest words that I was loved for everything that I was and that I was accepted, understood, wanted, needed and cared for.

Thank you for coaxing me through a rocky adolescence to a mature adult, capable of spreading his wings and going it alone, but never wanting to stray to far from home. You gave me a home Bruce, that's what I got from you, a home, a perfect, loving, safe, warm home. There was always somewhere to come home to, no matter how rough things got, no matter what I did. I knew you would always allow me to come home and that your arms were always open.

I knew that nothing I could ever do, no matter how awful, could make you stop loving me. Throughout my childhood, I never, never doubted your love for me. Even when you didn't say it, I could always feel it. I knew I was loved, I always knew that. I may have gotten angry with you on occasion and every once in a while, we butted heads. Heck, we had some huge fights in our day, didn't we? I can laugh at them now, but it was horrible back then.

However, even during our worst altercations, when we both screamed things at each other we later sorely regretted, I never doubted that you loved me. I may have doubted your ability to handle yourself, your rationality, even the way your love manifested itself, but I never doubted your love. I sorely hope you never doubted mine.

I hope you knew that, even in your darkest hours, there was always someone that loved you. I hope that right at the finish, when your life ended and you were breathing your last few breaths, I hope you knew then that you were loved.

Sometimes, I think you struggled with the fact that you didn't feel loved. You had such a problem with believing in people's love. But, I did my very best to make sure that where I was concerned, you always felt loved. I wanted to, every time I came around, allow that love I felt for you to be felt by you. It may not have always been perceived, but it was always there.

Now, I only wish I could get through to your son. In some ways, he's more broken than you ever were. He holds such pain inside his heart, such desolation, such a need to be accepted. He was never loved by good parents like your or I were. His mother has filled his head with lies, telling him that he'll never be accepted in "their world", aka, my world. True, your little one Timmy isn't crazy about the kid, but I'm intrigued by him.

Damian is talented, even if he doesn't always use those talents towards the right ends. I've actually grown rather fond of him. He reminds me of you and I wouldn't want to part with him for anything. He's a good kid, deep down, and I know, one day, I'll get through to him. Hey, I scratched the surface of the Batman, certainly I can get through to one jaded, nihilistic, angry little ten year old, right?

Speaking of Tim, he's taking your death pretty hard. He's pining for you badly, not to say that I'm not, but he's doing worse than I am. I guess his relationship with you was different than ours was. I had, at least, gained some self-sufficiency before you passed. He was still clinging on so tightly.

Tim misses you so much. He figures, you've cheated death so many times, you'll surely get out of this. I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure I won't be doing this alone for the rest of my days and nights.

Now, I realize all the things I depended on you for when you were alive. I realize how much I needed you, how much I still need you. I don't think I make half a good a Batman as you did. I almost feel as if I'm defiling you memory by being Batman, but Gotham needs a Batman and, right now, I'm all she's got. I'll have to do.

I love you Bruce, so much, even in death and I hope, wherever you are, you're finally at peace and you know, you know how much I loved you and how grateful I am. I'm sorry.

Your loving friend, no, your loving son

Richard "Dick" John Grayson

Bruce looked up at Dick. He smiled. "Thank you", he said softly. Dick grinned back.

"I just, you know, had to get all that off my chest, let you know just how I felt. I figured that if I didn't now, I might never get the chance."

"I'm glad", Bruce said.

"Your "death", you know, it sort of put things into perspective for me, made me realize what I had to lose. I felt awful, not knowing weather you knew how I felt about you, you know, how grateful I was. And, I don't ever want to have to feel that way again. You meant so much to me Bruce.

You were the one person I could go to where I knew I wouldn't be judged or laughed at. I could always count on you to be there for me. It was so awful to lose all that, and wondering if you knew just how much you were for me." Bruce leaned foreward and put his arms around Dick tightly. Dick smiled and pressed his cheek to Bruce's shoulder, reveling in the scent he had missed for such a long time.

"What happened, you know, it wasn't your fault."

"I can't help but feel that way though", Dick said desperately, heaving a great sigh, "I promised to always protect you and I failed."

"Dickie", Bruce crooned softly, "it wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Even when I was fighting my way back, I still never blamed you or anyone else. You held up Gotham for me while I was gone, you kept the name of Batman alive. You did so well."

"Really", Dick asked, eyes shinning brightly. Bruce nodded. "I'm so proud of you." Dick grinned.

"Thanks, that means the world coming from you." Bruce drew back and gazed at his eldest son for a moment, his grown up son.

"Ok", an obnoxious voice interrupted, "if you two are done being weird, someone needs to take me to the mall. I need new jeans and a new knife." Dick and Bruce both laughed.

"Well?" Damian said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Come here you", Bruce said, reaching out and grabbing him. He pulled a protesting Damien onto his lap and nuzzled his neck. Damian gave him a sour look and Bruce grinned.

"I protest whole heartedly to this", Damian muttered darkly. Dick grinned and kissed Damian's cheek.

"You are such a liar", he playfully, "you know you're loving every minute of the attention." Bruce laughed and lay back down, dragging Damian down with him.

"Come on son", he said, "you're gona take a nap with me."

"Why", Damian whined.

"So you don't fall asleep on patrol tonight like you did last week", Dick replied sassily.

"I did not", Damian said, sounding affronted. "I was just resting my eyes."

"Ohh, alright", Bruce teased, "he was just resting his eyes, of course."

"Yea", said Dick, "and the fact that you were just resting your eyes on Tim's lap while we were on stakeout was completely irrelevant, correct?"

"If you're gona make fun of me…" Damian snapped, trying to pull his way out of Bruce's embrace. Bruce rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms more tightly around the boy.

"Come on", Bruce said, "close your eyes."

"Fine", Damian grumbled, settling down on Bruce's broad chest, "it's not like I have a choice anyway huh."

"That's right", Bruce replied. Damian muttered something darkly under his breath that neither the Dark Knight or his former partner caught, but they got the jest of it and grinned at each other. Then, Dick smoothed Damian's hair and kissed his forehead.

"I love you Damian and I'll see you later. I'm going with Tim to the movies." Bruce nodded and stroked Damian's side.

"You know", he murmured, "if you'd like, you can go with them. You're under no obligation to stay."

"I'll stay", Damian said softly, "if you'd like me too." Bruce shifted his weight and put his arms tightly around Damian.

"Yes", he replied, "Yes, I'd like that very much."