-Safe and sound.

Action and reaction, ebb and flow, trial and error, change - this is the rhythm of living. Out of our over-confidence, fear; out of our fear, clearer vision, fresh hope. And out of hope, progress. -Bruce Barton

Snow fluttered down in a subtle sprinkle, coating the two inches of packed flakes already encasing the Gotham roads below. From atop the roof of GPD headquarters Dick could finally take a second to enjoy the sight of the first real snow fall of the season. In the moment it was beautiful and promising, in many ways like the city itself.


"The light isn't on for a reason kid."

His voice was warm with affection, something Dick had longed for in the months after donning the cape and cowl. He wanted approval from a third party, one that wasn't obligated to show support because they fell into the category of friend or family. There had to be someone to keep him in check, someone who didn't have to hide behind a domino or a computer screen.

"I'm not really a kid anymore, am I sir."

Dick felt more than saw the gaze that settled on his shadowed form, age weighted footsteps growing closer to his position propped atop the building edge.

"I sat with you in the police station the night your parents fell, I drove you to Wayne manor, I fought tooth and nail to have him fire you after I first caught you in costume, and I drove you to your high school prom. You will always be a kid to me."


It should have surprised Dick, the amount that this man knew about his life. But it didn't, not one bit.

"You've known all along?"

"It took me a couple of months to work out his identity, but in the earliest moments even he was sloppy about how many clues he dropped. Some of the signs were just obvious, but the arrival of the first Robin cemented it all. The coincidence was just too great to be believable. When he died…I wasn't entirely sure what was going to happen. Vigilantes crawled out of the woodwork and set about protecting the city, but none of them were him. Then Batman just suddenly reappeared and the city got better."

There was an edge of doubt in Gordon's voice and for some reason it cut Dick to the core to hear it. Still the subtle compliments quickly subdued any dredged up pain that came with the faint show of skepticism.

"Things were almost normal; Gotham had a Batman, and a damn good one at that. But there was no way he could move like you do, and he certainly wouldn't have taken on that new Robin. It was subtle things that gave you away. The compassion and chattiness were two big ones, but never in all of our working together did Bruce ever call me sir."

Dick flinched inwardly at having all of his tells spoken aloud. "Old habits die hard I suppose."

"Maybe they shouldn't have to…you've done a good job son. Better than maybe even he could. The city feels safe with you out there, I feel safe with you out there."


Silence fell comfortably between them and Dick was slightly surprised to feel the warmth of tears trickling down his cheeks. "I miss him."

"We all do, but isn't that all the more reason to be home tonight? It's Thanksgiving Dick, you should be with your family."

Shaking thoughts of Bruce from his head, Dick straightened and finally turned to face the familiar outline of Jim Gordon. "Funny Commish, I was thinking along the same lines. There's plenty of turkey to go around, and Babs would kill me if I came back without you. What do ya say?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Jim's lips as he eyed the unguarded young man standing tall under the weight of his late father's world.

"Your car or mine?"


Warmth radiated from every corner of the manor, the sinfully delicious aroma of Alfred's cooking providing the perfect company to such a feeling. As quickly as his slightly numb fingers could manage, Dick stripped himself of the batsuit and cast it into one of the various hall closets, motioning Gordon ahead of him. He felt rather ninja like standing in a skin hugging pair of black jeans and a fitted t-shirt of the same color. But his ninja attire was certainly a better option than tempting Alfred's distaste of costumes in the house.

Ambling slowly after the already vanished Jim Gordon, Dick stopped to lean in the dining room door frame, a beaming smile taking hold of his face. Any chance of order had obviously been cast out the window; even Alfred seemed to have loosened his bow tie in the face of such delightful chaos.

Clarke and Conner were pushed to the side of the group, a pumpkin pie being viciously fought over between them. Dinah and Oli were busy steadfastly avoiding Roy, and quickly downing whatever was left in the wine rack. Roy was sitting with his back to them, hat pulled down over his eyes hinting that he was asleep, and his legs were propped up in Jason's lap. Jay for the most part seemed unbothered by the archer's proximity, focusing his attention instead on using forks to fling pecans off the pecan pie and into Stephanie's hair.

Steph was too consumed in one of Dianna's astounding tales to notice the sticky flying projectiles being aimed at her; luckily enough a very annoyed looking Cassy seemed to be enjoying her job of skewering the nuts midair with terrifyingly well aimed toothpicks. At the center of the table, and seemingly unfazed by all the madness was Jim and Alfred, hacking away at the turkey with precisely aimed electric carving knives.

Still there were two little devils that Dick had yet to pick out amidst the insane dinner party. But when he caught sight of two fuzzy teddy bear legs dangling from the rafters, it wasn't hard to guess where his two wards were hiding out, most likely having filched half of the dessert cabinet too.


"Collin, Dami—"

His attempt to call the two from their hiding place was quickly cut off by Barbara's commanding voice.

"Dick, look out!"

It was too late, the impact having sent Dick flat on his butt on the hard marble tile.

For a moment everything was silent. The hum of the carving knife ceased, the tap of wine glasses vanished, chatter died, and even the twang of Jason's pecan flinging fork quieted. Everyone's eyes turned from the guilty looking Kryptonians to the pumpkin pie tin that was rolling away.

Slowly, methodically Dick wiped the delicious smelling orange goo out of his eyes. He could only imagine what his pumpkin pie facial looked like, and not a moment later a cackle cut through the room from high atop the ceiling rafters. Dick couldn't help but follow suit, his chest heaving with laughter as he fell back against the marble, finally catching sight of Collin's and Damian's faces split wide with smiles.

It wasn't long after that, that the entire room was filled with chuckles, giggles, cackles, and laughs alike.

Everything was almost perfect.

Almost.


In the far corner of the dining room, as he finally rose to go wash the pumpkin off his person, Dick noticed the vacant chair sitting all by its lonesome. He couldn't help but think about the boy who should have been occupying it, laughing along with the rest of this wonderful patchwork family.

Tim.

Wherever in the world he was, Dick hoped he was safe and sound.


AN: Sooo guess who's back? Me! :D I really meant to upload this chapter before I left for band camp, but I didn't get to it, and the musical world spiting me as it always does made sure that my band camp had zero internet connection :(This time my whole promise about not taking forever will be kept. Hugs and bunnies and rainbows to any of my remaining reviewers I love you all. And for any Tim fans out there, you'll finally get to figure out where he's been all this time.

PS. I don't give a flying flip about what DC says, Timmy will have always been a Robin!