Dick pulled his hood up over his head as he walked out of the apartment building. His mind was in turmoil, thinking of what Jason meant to do to the Joker. But even worse, that he was willing to excuse it. That he was willing to look the other way while Jason returned the favor of killing him.

That was probably the worst of it all.

His hands were shaking, but not from the chill of the wind. From the chill in his blood instead; what was he becoming? Dick didn't know, and he was afraid to question it, because he might just get his answer.

Murder was something he didn't do. Something he didn't condone. Something he always, always, always tried to stop. And now…

Here he was, walking down Gotham's streets, thinking of letting Jason do whatever he wanted to do to get his revenge. Thinking of Jason's plan as excusable, if not deserved.

Yeah, he didn't know what he was thinking. Or was he thinking at all? No, Dick concluded. He had to be thinking, for otherwise this wouldn't disturb him as much as it did.

Now he knew he couldn't face Bruce. There was no way that he could look into his eyes, knowing what he did, thinking what he thought, and be able to hold his gaze. He'd shy away, crumple to the ground completely ashamed. And the disappointment…

If he'd thought he'd seen Batman furious at him before, he'd seen nothing yet. The searing, breaking gaze he'd give him; one that would make him want to run until he reached the ends of the earth, and once there, just lay down and let the ground swallow him up and relieve him of the burden of his life.

Dick was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the luxury car pull up to the curb, driving slow enough to make pace with his uneven strides. The window of the car rolled down, and Alfred called out to him.

"Master Dick!" he called, and Dick nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Al–what?" he asked angrily.

He didn't have anonymity anymore, now that Alfred had called out his name, so he decided, hell with it. He strode up to the side of the car, just as it stopped and parked on the street curb.

Placing his hands on the ledge of the window, he peered in at the old butler, completely composed in his seat. It only made Dick angrier, to see him so composed while his own mind was seconds away from chaos as it sought to find the truth. But still, he let his face remain blank…or as blank as it could. He wouldn't show distress; it was something he'd been taught not to do, long before Batman was even in the picture.

Training for the circus, day in and day out, since he could walk on his own. His parents had taught him, even if your arms are tired and your legs are sore and your entire body is just screaming for a break, smile. Smile because the audience doesn't want to see you in pain. They don't want to see acrobats who hated what they did.

So he concealed it.

"I told Master Bruce that you were at the Manor, and that you wanted to see him as soon as possible."

"Oh, Alfred," Dick groaned. "How could you do that to me?" he asked him.

Alfred only shook his head, not giving into Dick's negativity. "He wishes to see you shortly," Alfred continued on. "I've been sent out to collect you and bring you back to the Manor, so that you and Master Bruce may talk."

Dick groaned again.

He was not ready to see Bruce. Not now…probably not ever.

"Please, Master Dick," Alfred said to him, after Dick stood in front of the car for a full minute without making any move to enter the car. "He wishes to see you, quite dearly," Alfred repeated, hoping that it would get Dick into the car at least.

Dick huffed out another agitated sigh and finally consented. "Fine," he snapped, leaning up from his perch on the side of the door and making for the back doors of the car.

Fine, Dick thought. I'll go see him.

He pulled open the door and slid into the back seat, only to be met with Bruce sitting exactly next to him. Dick's eyes widened in horror, shock, and disbelief. How could Alfred to this to me? was the first thought that ran through his mind. Then, How could Bruce do this to me?

Bruce gave him a small smile, but Dick could tell that it was forced.

"Been a long time, Dick."

Oh no, he thought. He's using his Batman voice.

Dick didn't respond to his words. Bruce directed Alfred to drive back to the Manor, and the motor purred to life as they sped towards their destination. Both Dick and Bruce were silent for a long time, neither of them knowing how to break the ice and finally start talking to each other.

Bruce knew that he had to make the first move.

"Alfred told me you wanted to talk about something," he said to Dick.

He peered at him from the corners of his eyes, but all he saw was Dick staring forward, unblinking, his body tense and his jaw set. Not a good sign, Bruce knew.

"What do you want to talk about?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing," Dick lied. His voice sounded faraway.

"If you're going to lie to the world's greatest detective, you'd best put some effort into it," Bruce said to him. Still, Dick's demeanor didn't change in the least. Definitely a bad sign, Bruce thought.

Even if they had last seen each other on bad terms, he knew that Dick shouldn't be acting like this. This was different from how he would act, how anyone would act. Bruce concluded that the best way to patch this up would be the non-aggressive approach. He was glad for that, because it was a tactic he rarely got to use in his life.

"Dick," he said again, "tell me what's on your mind."

He didn't; only remained silent, staring ahead at the back of the seat, never making eye contact. Bruce sighed, and rubbed his temples. This was going to be difficult, he knew. He'd expected as much when Alfred had first woken him up and told him that Dick had been there in the Manor. But now, he anticipated something even more difficult than he'd originally thought.

"Is Jump City good?" Bruce asked. He still used his Batman voice. Dick turned his head then, away from Bruce and out towards the window, watching the scenery fly by them.

"I've heard it's quite nice in the winter."

Still nothing.

Time to strike a little deeper. "Looks like leaving was good for you," he said. That did make Dick turn around to look at him. His eyes were wide, and he pulled his hoodie farther down on his head, trying to shield himself.

"Do you think it was a good choice?" Bruce asked him.

That damn Batman voice, Dick thought, grimacing at his words.

"Yes." He forced the word from his throat.

"Good to know," Bruce replied. "Was that what you wanted to talk to me about? Or was it something else?" Bruce waited for his response. But he knew that it would come too late. So he judged his body language instead. The uncomfortable shift in his weight spoke wonders.

"No," Dick said at least.

No what? Bruce thought.

"Then what?" he asked instead. "What's made you leave Jump City when you're friends are out of town, come all the way down here, and try to talk to me?"

No response.

"This has to be serious. Something you need to say," Bruce continued on. "You can tell me. I don't hold a grudge." Pause. "I don't blame you." His voice softened as he said the words. "I don't blame you at all. You needed your space; you needed to forge your own path. I understand that. Besides, you've done good in Jump City."

A curt "thanks" was all he got in return.

Another taut silence stretched between them.

Alfred was just starting to pull up the Wayne Manor when Dick finally thought that he would break. He just couldn't take it anymore. The close proximity, the uncomfortable conversation (if it could be called a conversation), the thoughts that were roaming around in his mind...

"Bruce," Dick said at last. "I just want to go back to Jump City."

He turned his head before Bruce could look at him.

"Already?" Bruce asked him, just as his door popped open and Alfred held it open for him, waiting for the two of them to slide out of the car. Bruce slid free from the car, and Dick after him.

"Yeah. I really need to go back. My friends are waiting for me," Dick said. Honesty. That's nice, Dick thought to himself.

"Wouldn't you at least like to come inside for a little while?" Bruce asked him. Even in the bright sunlight of noon, in a light-colored and crisp suit, Dick could only see an unmasked Batman staring at him.

Dick wanted so badly to say no. "Okay," he grunted, and followed Alfred and Bruce into the Manor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, his mind screeched, over and over. Get me out of here. Get me the fuck out of here. I was just about to excuse murder and now I'm going to sit down with Batman?

An hour passed, and then two…

Finally, Dick was released, and he was heading back to Jump City in a second's time. He'd told him nothing, and he didn't know if that was good or bad. All he knew was that when he returned, he was telling his friends immediately. And then, he'd go after Jason.

Another time, Bruce, Dick thought. He hoped it wasn't a lie.