Part 8: Revelations From the Past
Dick wandered around the batcave seeing the changes that had been made. 'Bruce sure has been busy. Wish I had some of this stuff.' He came upon the medical area and found what was left of Bruce's costume. Looks like Bruce will have to have another one made. Something on the cape caught his attention and he picked it up and examined it. Not like Bruce to be sloppy. Looks like he may have picked up some dirt from somewhere.
An hour went by and Dick walked over to the analyzer to check on its progress. It was still trying to figure out the missing ingredients. Dick grabbed a wrist monitor connected to the bat computer and set it to alert him. It was no use sitting in the bat cave waiting for the analyzer to complete its work. His thoughts kept returning to the argument that he and Bruce had and the comment made by Caine.
'Well, I'm not going to get any answers sitting here,' Dick thought. 'Might as well go to the source.'
Instead of taking the stairs, Dick took the bat pole back up to Bruce's study. He was surprised to see Alfred sitting in one of the tall wing back chairs. Never had he seen the man look so worried.
"Alfred?"
"Master Richard, I did not expect you to come from the batcave. I thought you would be with Master Bruce."
"I was helping Caine find the antidote to the venom," Dick replied. "Alfred, what happened?"
"I don't rightly know myself," Alfred stated. "Things have not been the same since you left. Master Bruce doesn't consult me the way he used to."
"I gathered that. You're a valuable member of the team," Dick stated. "You would help us whenever we needed it. That's not like him to leave you out."
"I know, and that makes it that much harder to understand. When you left, I tried to reason with Master Bruce, but he would not have any of it. 'Let him leave,' he had said. 'He's got to work it out himself.' But I could see Master Bruce was very upset. He tried to hide it, but I could tell."
"What's really happening to Bruce."
"It is not my place to interfere between you and Master Bruce, but when you left, Master Bruce changed, becoming obsessed in his work as . . ." Alfred couldn't say it. "There is a darkness in him, a darkness you never saw. And I fear that darkness has re-immerged."
"I don't understand. That's not the Bruce that I know," Dick reminded Alfred.
"Before you came to the house Master Richard, Bruce covered up that darkness by pretending to be the playboy so no one would suspect his duel identity, but it has always been there, lurking underneath."
"I remember Bruce being moody, not being around that much when I first came here except to train me or to be at Wayne Foundation. I don't remember him doing anything else. I never saw a lot of women here."
"Master Bruce stopped all that when you became a member of this household. It would not have looked good if there were women visiting or staying here."
"Yeah, I guess so. I was just his ward," Dick remembered. Except it didn't feel like that early on." He remembered feeling more than just a commonality of their goal in fighting crime, and more than just a deep friendship between them. It was like Bruce had become a . . . he dare not say it lest he betray his memories of John Grayson, his father. He kept that part bottled up inside, not certain if he should have voiced it. Yet, there was one question that still nagged him to this day. "Alfred, why did Bruce take me in?"
"Master Bruce told me once that he did not want you to make the same mistakes he did. He did not want you to suffer the way he had suffered, becoming filled with hatred and wanting revenge."
"Filled with revenge? I don't understand," Dick stated.
"Like you, he witnessed his parents' murder, but he did not have someone to guide him through the worst of his anger," Alfred stated.
"Didn't he have you?"
"No, he did not," Alfred answered. "There was a housekeeper at one time, but from what I learned, young Master Bruce did not make things easy. I returned when Bruce reached his teen years, and by then the darkness had nearly consumed him. It took all of my efforts to make him realize that taking revenge was not the answer."
"Then you did help him," Dick pointed out.
"Only to redirect his efforts. Master Bruce needed more help than I could provide."
"Then who helped him?"
"I thought that was obvious," Alfred said, staring at Dick.
"What . . . what are you saying? That I helped him? How? I thought Bruce only thought of me as his ward and that . . ."
"Oh Master Richard, during your first two years you were with us Master Bruce wanted to do more than have you as his ward, but the state would not agree to it."
"You mean, but I thought, I mean I remember the first six months . . ." Dick couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"That was true Master Richard, until you became very sick. You should have seen his face then. I never thought anyone would work their way into his heart the way you did."
"Into his heart? I don't remember very much of that time," Dick replied.
"It was soon after you and Master Bruce had taken down mob boss Tony Zucco. You became quite ill with pneumonia. I feared you would have to go to the hospital, but Bruce wouldn't hear of it. He felt very responsible and blamed himself. He would not leave your bedside until you were well."
"Wait a moment, I do remember after that Bruce was around a lot more, trying to teach me all kinds of things. I also remember him being less dark and brooding. Do you mean to tell me that I really had something to do with that? That I actually —"
A loud beeping noise interrupted their conversation. Both turned toward the red phone that sat on Bruce's desk.
"Odd, that phone has not been used in a long time." Alfred stated.
"Only Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara knew about that phone," Dick stated.
"Not any more. Commissioner Gordon retired and Chief O'Hara was killed by the Joker last year."
Dick was surprised at the news. He had been so busy in his own little world he hadn't realized that events in Gotham City moved without him. "Why didn't someone tell me."
"I tried Master Richard, but you could not be reached."
The bat phone continued to beep out its notice. Without another thought, Dick Grayson picked up the phone and listened to whoever was on the other line. He was soon hanging up the phone.
"What is it Master Richard?"
"Commissioner Gordon's dead."
"Oh no, it can't be," Alfred exclaimed.
"Commissioner Montgomery wants Batman to investigate."
"Did he say how Commissioner Gordon died?"
"He was poisoned, by a dart."
Continues with Part 9: A Robin Take Wing
