Part 10: A Matter of Family
A storm was raging outside, echoing the storm that was in his soul. Bruce paced the waiting area feeling helpless at not knowing what was happening, a position he was not accustomed to. Caine sat on the floor in lotus position, a picture of calm, which at times infuriated Wayne, even though he understood the merits of it. With this situation it was difficult to remain calm. His ward . . . his son's life hung in the balance. And a decision had to be made.
Four hours had gone by and Bruce was nearly beside himself with worry. He had not felt this way in a long time. He was about to go look for the Doctor when he returned.
"We've given him fluids and he'll receive a round of antibiotics. He does have pneumonia caused by bacteria in the lungs, but he should recover. It will take time. We'll keep him over night to see how he responds to medication. We've moved him to a private room. You can see him once he's hooked up to monitors and IVs. You should go home and get some rest afterward."
"I will stay," Bruce insisted, but he had one duty he had to perform. "Alfred, please go back to Wayne Manor and go into my study. In my desk there is a folder. Could you pull it out and leave it on top."
"If that is what you wish," Alfred said, also reluctant to leave.
"Yeah, no use all of us waiting here. Caine's here and I need someone at home in case . . . " Bruce looked around. There were two others in the waiting area besides, Alfred, Caine and himself.
Picking up on Bruce's meaning, Alfred said, "Yes, I understand. I shall see you at home then, Master Bruce."
Alfred left the hospital and Bruce resumed his pacing.
"You have made a decision," Caine stated.
"Yes," Bruce answered. 'You've made me realize that I need to face my fears. I've lost a lot in my life. I don't want to lose Dick, again."
"You will not," Caine said.
"What if he leaves, again?" Bruce asked thinking about the bitter argument they had.
"Do you wish him to leave?"
Bruce was taken off guard with the question, "No, but I can't make him stay either. I guess he has to make that decision himself."
"Just as you must make the choice to let him go and to tell him everything," Caine pointed out. Then Caine shared something that Bruce had not expected. "I lost my son because of actions that I had done. He was killed due to a renegade priest who tried to take revenge on me. I can never get my son back. You must decide and what you decide will affect a young man for the rest of his life." As he finished his words, Caine placed his satchel over his shoulder and his hat on his head. "I know you will do what is right, my friend."
"I guess you're leaving," Bruce said.
"I must. My son is gone, and I must pay the price. Do not allow your pride to be the price of losing yours. Perhaps, we shall meet again."
"Bruce, when can I get out of bed? I'm getting bored." *Cough, cough*
"The doctor said you need to be in bed for at least a week and for as long as that cough is present, you're not going out on patrol. It could give you away. After all, it was reported that Dick Grayson was in the hospital with pneumonia."
"You're right," Dick said, disappointed.
"You'll get a clean bill of health soon, but you're going to need to rebuild your stamina and lung capacity."
"I know, I've never felt so weak before, not even when I was a kid." *Cough, cough, cough.*
"Don't worry, old Chum. You'll get your strength back and be better than ever," Bruce handed Dick a glass of clear juice.
'Old Chum?' Dick noticed. He hadn't called me that for a long time, not since . . . Bruce is everything all right? *Cough, cough, cough.* You don't seem yourself."
Without saying anything more, Bruce placed a folder on Dick's lap.
"What's this?"
"Something I should have showed you years ago, but I guess I didn't want to disappoint you. Then things changed and well, there was no time. I figured now was the best time."
Dick flipped through the folder, his eyes growing wider each time he comprehended what he was examining. Adoption, denied, adoption appeal, adoption denied. It went on like that for several sheets, until the last one. Adoption appeal . . . accepted. He noticed the month and year. 'That was right after I left for college," Dick observed. "I didn't even know. Why didn't you . . ."
"Tell you? It was easier not to when I was being denied," Bruce explained. "Then when it finally happened . . . Part of it was not wanting to dishonor the memory of your parents and the love you had for them. I didn't want you to lose the memory of that love the way I did with mine. After you left, I wrapped myself up in my work, expanding Wayne Enterprises, and the mission of fighting crime."
"Bruce, as long as I've known you, you've never been into building a capitalistic business. Not like Donald Trump. *Cough, cough, cough* You're a philanthropist, someone who does good in the world. What happened to Wayne Foundation?"
The look on Bruce's face said it all. Something major had happened. Perhaps that had been the catalyst for Bruce's downward spiral.
"Please, you can tell me. *Cough, cough*
'You should rest," Bruce said, trying to change the subject.
"Awe, come on. You've got to tell me the rest. You owe it to yourself." *Cough, cough* Dick took a drink of his juice. "Look, I'll just sit here and listen. Please." Dick gave Bruce a pleading look reminding him of other times when Dick would plead with his Aunt Harriet. It didn't help that Dick still looked like a teenager.
"Okay, but after that you need to get some rest."
"So, what happened," Dick asked then clammed up before he started coughing again.
"I put my trust in the wrong people. Next thing I knew, what money the Foundation had handled was gone and then the building was put to the torch. I caught the arsonist, but not the person responsible for the financial ruin. That was two years ago."
'That's about the time his letters stopped,' Dick thought. 'And soon after that, the arguments.'
"I started Wayne Foundation in my twenties to honor my parents. Wayne Enterprises was separate and always there. But when I lost the Foundation, it was as if I lost my father all over again. Then I lost you. And the world got very dark."
Alfred came in at that moment. 'Master Bruce."
"What is it Alfred?"
"It's the bat phone."
"It's always something. I'll be back, then we can finish where we left off."
"Sure, Bruce." *Cough, cough, cough.*
Dick watched Bruce leave, wishing he could go with him, even wait for him the way he would when he was a kid, sitting on the stairs. But it just wasn't feasible. 'Alfred probably would have a say about that,' he though with a slight smile.
'Finished with your tray, Master Dick?"
"Yes, Alfred, thanks. *Cough, cough.*Could you give me some paper?"
"Right away, Master Dick."
Dick took the folder and once again scrutinized the pages within. Reading the last one again, Dick had an idea that he was sure Bruce would approve, and in this way, he could express to Bruce his own feelings. It was going to be several hours before Bruce would be home, and in this way, he was hoping it would help rebuild everything.
Continues with Part 11: Fathers and Sons