The trips to Roger's grave always brought Barbara an equal mix of bitterness, guilt, and shame. Bitterness, because he'd driven himself to this state, guilt because she watched him do it, and shame because she was trying to comfort herself with the thought that he was in a better place.
Cassandra steps ahead of her and places a bouquet of roses on his grave—the flowers of love meant to make up for the relationship that never quite developed into it. A pitiful substitute.
She's always considered herself to be articulate and yet, she can find no words now. There is a tight ball lodged deep within her throat, it chokes her and she can't force anything past it. But, what would she say if she could speak?
You did your best.Lie.
I understand.Lie.
It's okay.Lie.
She feels calloused fingers touch her hand, which had previously been gripping the arms of her chair, and lifts her gaze to meet her daughter's eyes. Cassandra laces their fingers together and gives her hand a squeeze.
Jim Gordon does not take the day off for Father's Day but, he does go home earlier, mostly because of the not so gentle prompts he receives from one visiting Detective Montoya. When he gets home, he freshens up before Dick arrives in one of Bruce's sports cars to drive him to Wayne manor.
"So what have you kids got planned?" He asks as he settles into the car. Dick offers him one of his many too-bright grins and proudly declares that it is a surprise. Jim does not try to broach the subject again but, braces himself for a disaster.
"Just ask her already!"
Barbara turns from shouting orders at Jason and Tim to see Colin nudging Damian in her direction. Damian shoots his companion a glare, snatches a purple folder from him, and strides forward to stand beside Barbara.
"How are the preparations coming along?" He's using this as a way to bide his time and normally Barbara wouldn't play along but, she's emotionally exhausted herself out for the day and can't bring herself to be blunt with him.
Instead she turns and watches as Jason and Tim flit about the kitchen trying to avoid getting in each other's way for the sake of the holiday. "Things are coming along nicely," she says. "The food is almost ready, Cass is entertaining Bruce and Alfred in the living room, and Dick should be arriving with my father shortly." She notices that he stiffens when she mentions Dick but, doesn't comment on it. A few minutes pass and she orders the boys to start setting the table, before he clears his throat and turns toward her.
"I wish for your assistance in a matter of the utmost importance," he says and Barbara raises an eyebrow.
No matter how many times he visits Wayne manor, Jim will always feel slightly out of place. Dick takes his coat at the door and directs him to the living room. There he greets Bruce and Alfred and attempts to quell the feeling of dread that rises in the pit of his stomach at the thought of who might have been cooking tonight. Cassandra steps into the room a few moments after he's settled into a chair and engaged in conversation with Alfred to tell them that they can make their way toward the dinning room. As he passes her in the hall, he hands him an envelope. When he attempts to open it, she lightly grasps his wrists. "Not now," she says and he folds the envelope before tucking it into his pants pocket.
There is a loud chorus of "Happy Father's Day!" as the men step into the dinning room and Gordon is happy to see that the food prepared was nothing too exotic. His stomach was equally as grateful. He sits next to Barbara at the table and she plants a kiss on the side of his face. "Happy Father's Day, Dad."
The dinner went over rather smoothly.
The food tasted good, not as good as Alfred's usually did but, hey you have to take what you can get. Dick and Cassandra get stuck with dish duty since they had no part in the cooking. "But, that's not fair," Dick whines as Tim equips them with gloves and sponges. "You guys made me leave and forbade Cass from setting foot in the kitchen." He doesn't actually mind doing the dishes but, he figures his brothers need to let off a little steam after behaving all day and what better way to do it than with a classic argument.
"That's because she can't cook worth a damn* and you dance around singing like you're in a fucking musical whenever we let you," Jason says. "Besides it's not like you have that much to wash by hand," he gestures towards the dishwasher.
"But, Babs didn't help cook either!" Dick says not wanting to miss a chance to drag his girlfriend down along with him.
"She did the grocery shopping, she memorized the recipes and recited them to us while we worked, she kept us from fighting for the better part of the evening, and she threatened Bruce into staying home from patrol tonight," Tim ticked off the list on his fingers. "Am I missing anything else?"
"She's Oracle," Jason added and Dick knew then and there that the conversation was lost.
He grumbled a bit more as his traitorous brothers left the room but, rolled up his sleeves and got to work because Cass had already started on her share. After a few minutes of light conversation, Dick felt a yank on the back of his shirt. He turned to see his youngest brother standing with his arms folded behind his back.
"He little, D. What's up? Did you come to rescue use from the evil soap spuds'?"
"Tt. Grayson, if you continue to insist on addressing me with such juvenile dialogue I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands, which my or may not include ripping out your larynx and feeding it to Drake. Now dry your hands, we have important matters to attend to."
"We do?" Dick asked reaching for a hand towel before following Damian into the dinning room. Damian laid a purple folder out on the table and stepped aside so, Dick could sit in front of it.
"Do not open this until exactly two minutes have passed. If it does not fit your approval you may blame Gordon. I am off to return Wilkes and walk Titus." As soon as he finished speaking he ducked out of the room. Dick drummed his fingers against the table for about ten seconds before opening the folder. "Damian!"
"Are you sure you're okay with going home?" Barbara asked as she and Bruce accompanied her father to the gates of the manor.
"I'll be fine," he said ducking down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek as the cab pulled up.
"Really, Jim," Bruce cut in. "It's no problem if you were to spend the night we have plenty of room."
The Commissioner clasped Bruce on the shoulder and offered him a smile. "Thanks but, I've got to go to work tomorrow. Give my regards to the boys," He ducked into the car and then, Bruce and Barbara were left to watch the lights fade into the distance.
"He's not going to make it into work tomorrow is he," It's wasn't really a question.
"Nope," Barbara said sounding smug.
"You deactivated his alarm clock, pulled some strings with Montoya and Harvey, and made dining arrangements for the two of you tomorrow didn't you."
"Yup," she said stretching her arms over her head. As they turned to go back inside she caught Bruce by the hand. "I may have also made some arrangements so, that Batman can take the day off too." There was a pause wherein she bit her lip and added, "Happy Father's Day Bruce." He gave her hand a small squeeze of appreciation.
"Happy Father's Day," Tim said softly as he joined Bruce on the balcony.
Bruce offered him a smile and embraced him in a loose one-armed hug as they stood side by side. They were quiet. They usually were but, right now the air was heavy with words that neither truly had the strength to speak.
"Does it ever get easier," Tim asked quietly. "You know the…" The guilt. The self loathing. The feeling of complete uselessness that comes with knowing that someone you loved was taken away from you and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. There's no way you can make up for this utter failure in your life because that's exactly what it is. You failed to protect them and you'll always see it that way even if at the time you didn't have the strength or the knowledge or even the right attitude. It still happened and you were still completely useless to stop it.
"No," Bruce says after a moments pause. "But, you grow stronger and better at dealing with it." Tim looks like he is about say something else when Dick comes running onto the balcony.
"Bruce! Tim! Look at what Damian made me!" He holds up a very detailed drawing of Batman, Superman, and Robin. From the costumes Bruce can tell exactly what generation of heroes it is and smiles. He himself had received one of his son's drawings as a gift as well, though his had depicted the entire family (extended members included).
"It's lovely, Dick."
"Yeah, I guess even he can halfway decent sometimes." Tim says but, bites his tongue before any further comment can slip out. Bruce appreciates the effort but, wishes there wasn't a need for it. Dick lopes an arm around his brother's neck and begins chatting excitedly about watching the Lion King.
Bruce assures them that he will join them in a moment.
"You can come out now," Bruce says after they've left and Cassandra climbs up from below the balcony with a large teddy bear tucked underneath her arm. "Happy father's day," she says extending it out to him and he pulls her into a hug.
Jason walks slowly balancing the silver serving tray and the cup of tea as he returns to the living room. "Here you go, Alfred" he says placing it down gently on the coffee table in front of his pseudo grandfather.
"Thank you, Master Jason," the butler says sipping daintily from the cup.
Damian comes shuffling into the room and sits on the couch beside Alfred. He's closer than he usually would be that makes all the difference. Barbara follows looking smug and after transitioning from her chair to the sofa, allows Jason to move it out of the way before he settles beside her.
Alfred watches with a quirk of amusement to his lips as Dick sneaks up on Damian from behind and proceeds dance his youngest sibling around the room in a bear hug. "Grayson release me at once," Damian cries but, the threats that follow after seem to fall on deaf ears because dick shows no sign of relenting.
"Happy Father's Day, Alfie," Dick says plopping down in Damian's vacated seat, his younger brother still squirming on his lap. Jason rises to set up the dvd player then returns to his seat draping Barbara's legs over his lap with the excuse that it will create more room. Dick eyes this silently, and Damian takes the opportunity to escape.
He scurries over to the armchair on the side of the couch. Bruce sits in the matching chair on other side of the sofa while Tim and Cass sit on the floor. "You can sit here instead," Damian says to his sister. Cassandra glances wearily between her two brothers but, takes Damian offer as he moves to the floor.
They manage to get through the Lion King, both Goofy movies, and half of Inspector Gadget One before the first argument breaks out.
Across town in a cozy two bedroom apartment, Jim Gordon tucked himself into bed. On the night stand beside his bed laid an open card. Featured on the cover was a somewhat decent drawing of a plaid bowtie while on the inside were the words "Happy Father's Day!" printed in black ink and sprawled messily beneath them, a message: You raised a good one. Jim couldn't help but, agree.
