Those enormous iron gates were so intimidating; I peered up through the car window as they creaked open and we rolled slowly over the gravel and up the long driveway. The manor scared me even more; I'd grown up in caravans and tents for most of my life; this was an extravagance almost entirely alien to me, it looked like something from a horror movie, full to the brim with ghosts and ghouls.

The man I was with didn't have to drive his own car; he had someone to do it for him and chose to sit next to me in the back. I liked the driver, he was kind, friendly, and he sounded like someone from an old film, which was strangely comforting.

We pulled up outside the house. I didn't want to get out of the car. This was the third different place they expected me to stay, and I just wanted to go home.

The man who sat next to me got out of the car and walked around to my door, opening it and kneeling in the gravel next to me, his face expressing a softness that looked real. Every other time I'd seen him smile, it looked as if there was nothing behind his eyes like he was pretending to be happy.

"You've been through a lot, Richard," He began.

"It's Dick," I managed to say, quivering.

Bruce Wayne smiled again, warmly, "When I was your age, something bad happened to me too, like you, an evil man took my parents from me."

I studied his face further. He understood, he might have been the only person I'd met since it happened that really knew what I was feeling.

"I wish I could tell you that the pain in your heart is going to go away," He continued, "But I'm afraid I can't, I know that the pain in mine never has. If you think you can trust me though, maybe we can find the answer together?"

He reached out a hand. I took it and stepped out of the car beside him.

"You don't have to worry, Dick, this is your home now, and I'm going to keep you safe."

I woke up that day as if nothing had happened, the sun broke through the hospital window, and I could hear birds chirping in the trees of the atrium beyond the glass. Lightheaded, I turned away from the natural light and saw machines and tubes, one attached to my arm, pumping me with something, probably the reason I felt so woozy.

At the end of my arm, where my hand usually was, there laid a mess of blonde hair attached to a sleeping girl who looked like she might have been there for days. In the corner of the room in a true-to-brand red hoodie, another familiar figure was slumped in a chair with his feet up on a box labelled bandages, and I wondered how his snoring hadn't woken me up already.

For all I knew, I'd been laid up for weeks, but the events that led to my being there all rushed back in a flood of images, my breathing was suddenly shallow, and my heart was heavy. If it weren't for the dryness of my eyes, I could easily have burst into tears, as if tears were even enough to express the anguish that had swept over me. Bruce was gone. A day I'd known was coming since I took up the mantle of Robin all those years ago.

Death was something we dealt with all too often in our line of work, but when one of our own passes away, it's as if you lose a piece of yourself along with them. Bruce was the patriarch of this vigilante family, the glue that held the whole thing together, captain of the ship. And now what were we supposed to do?

It wasn't a decision to be made in a split second on a hospital bed, but luckily Roy leaned on the TV remote, and the small set on the wall blurted to life and distracted me.

"Political Activist and daughter of the late Carl Beaumont, who tragically died at the hands of serial killer Victor Zsasz, Andrea Beaumont spoke to reporters at the courthouse this afternoon," The broadcaster said in a monotone voice. The picture cut to a red-headed woman on the steps of the Gotham Courthouse, I'd never actually spoken her, but I knew her face, Andrea had been an old flame of Bruce's from before I'd gone to live with him and I'd attended an event of hers not so long ago.

"Crime is on the rise in Gotham," Andrea began, staring resolutely into the camera, "And it's high time the justice system was held accountable for the plague that has been unleashed upon this city. For too long, criminals like the Joker, Victor Zsasz and most recently Mr Freeze have gotten away with pleading insanity on the stand. Earning them comfortable sentences in the frankly inadequate Arkham Asylum. Most of whom were certified by Dr Jonathan Crane, who himself was discovered to be behind one of the most dangerous terrorist plots this city has ever seen."

I sat up and eyed the TV carefully as she continued.

"I will be taking my petition, which has already amassed over 250,000 signatures in just a few days to the supreme court where I will demand that all insanity verdicts certified by Dr Jonathan Crane are overturned - and the criminals who have so far escaped real justice are returned to Blackgate Prison," She explained, a flash of aggression in her eyes.

"There is a rumour that you'll you be seeking the death penalty for Victor Zsasz, is there any truth to this?" Asked a member of the press from behind the camera.

"I will, for him and others," She nodded, "Too many have suffered at the hands of these animals while the Police and the Batman have allowed them to yo-yo between Arkham and the streets."

"What about Crane himself, surely no sane man could do the things he's done?" Another voice asked.

"That's for the courts to decide," Andrea said, "No further questions."

The picture flashed back to the news studio where the two anchors began discussing what Andrea had said. I'd seen enough. I couldn't argue with her logic; the number of escapees from Arkham was something that had always bothered me. The door opened and derailed my train of thought before it could really even leave the station. Barbara stood in the doorway with three cups of coffee; she looked pristine. Anyone who didn't know her might have missed the pain and grief in her eyes.

The redhead's shoulders dropped, and she heaved a silent sigh of relief, a smile forming in the corners of her mouth as she noticed me staring into her eyes.

"Hey," She said softly.

"Hey," I croaked back, "How long was I out?"

Closing the door behind her and placing the coffee cups down on my bedside table, Barbara sat down and said, "Three days."

"Wow," I replied, rubbing my throat, "What's the official story?"

"Mugging gone wrong, I was hoping Leslie could treat you at the cave, but she made us bring you here. Someone from the Gazette was tipped off about you being brought in, but you only made it on to page six," Barb explained, "Crane has been front page news every day since he was caught. It sounds like they're going to lock him up in his favourite place."

"Arkham," I said coldly, shaking my head.

"They might have a lot of empty cells opening up; it looks like they're going to reevaluate every insanity plea that Crane had a hand in. It turns out he was getting people sent to Arkham in exchange for favours, which is what eventually got him on Daggett's radar I imagine."

"I just saw on the TV. And what about..." Bruce's name got stuck in my throat, but Barbara knew what I was going to ask.

"Alfred showed us a file Bruce had given him, telling us what to do in the event of his... His death," She began, taking a deep breath, "For the time being we have to act as though he's alive."

"What?" I said, taken aback.

"We're going to keep up the pretence that Bruce is alive, and eventually that he's gone travelling. He wanted to make sure that if something happened, he couldn't be easily linked to the identity of the Batman, so that we could carry on after he'd gone."

"Doesn't matter anyway, Crane knows my identity," I thought out loud, "He's probably already figured out the rest."

"Well if he has, he's not said anything," Barb said, shrugging.

I wondered for a moment why Crane hadn't said anything. Perhaps the blow to the head had been even harder than it looked, more likely he had some nefarious scheme up his sleeve that he'd spring on me, using the secret as leverage.

Steph stirred, her head slowly rising from my hand which she'd also been gripping tightly.

"You drooled on my hand," I said to her in an involuntarily raspy voice.

Blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't dreaming, Steph wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and scowled, "No, I did not."

Barbara took one of the coffee cups and passed it over to Steph who smiled and nodded appreciatively.

"I'm gonna go give Alfred a call and let him know you're awake," Barbara said, standing up, "He's been asking for updates every half hour."

"Thanks, Barb," I smiled as she left in a flash of red hair. Turning to look at Steph, I said: "Tell me you haven't been laying there for three days?"

"Not the whole time, I went home to shower, I'm not an animal," She replied, rubbing her tired eyes.

"You didn't have to," I said, receiving a glare, "But I'm glad you did."

"I did," She said, beginning to sob completely out of nowhere, "It's my fault you're in here, if I'd gotten there sooner I could have..."

"You got there as quickly as you could and, as much as I hate to admit it, you saved my life... Again," I said, holding her hand.

She wiped her eyes and sniffed, "True, I guess."

"I hope I never have to return the favour."

Roy awoke not long after Steph and explained how he'd managed to get a date with a nurse, something I wasn't sure I believed, but I nodded along politely regardless. Barbara returned to the room with a Doctor at the end of the story and heard just enough to roll her eyes.

The doctor checked my charts and told me to drink plenty of water and said she'd be back to check on me within the hour. When the door closed behind the Doctor, Barbara shared with us some updates she'd heard from Alfred.

It turned out that the explosions below ground had done much more damage than the investigators initially believed, and it was going to cost the city a small fortune to fully fix that part of the drainage system. The underground courtroom was built directly into the foundations of the Stromwell building which were now considered to be too dangerous, and the unfinished building was due to be demolished in the coming weeks to prevent a total collapse.

There'd also be a review of other nearby buildings to make sure that there wasn't any damage to their structural integrity. We then talked about the snow, which had already stopped in the time I'd been asleep, and barely settled in the first place. And then we went over the news reports on Crane again, anything to avoid addressing what had happened to Bruce.

"So, erm, how long til you're on your feet again?" Roy asked before the room fell into an awkward silence.

"I don't know, that was the first doctor I spoke to, being unconscious and all that," I said sarcastically.

"Well once you're back on your feet, I'm gonna have to hit the road," He explained.

It was funny, when Roy arrived, I couldn't wait to get rid of him, but we'd been through a hell of a lot during his stay in Gotham and my heart sunk a little to hear that he was leaving.

"Shame," Steph said, "I thought the three of us made a pretty good team. Annoying as you are."

"Don't worry Stephie, there's time for me to take you out to dinner before I go," Roy said, flashing a grin.

"I'm good, thanks, pretending to be your girlfriend was bad enough."

I laughed hard, pulling my stitches slightly and causing gasp that silenced the room and drew all eyes sharply to me, "I'm alright, I'm alright," I reassured them, "Where are you headed next, Roy?"

"I'm gonna hit up Vegas," He explained.

"Business or pleasure?" Barbara asked.

"Bit of both," Roy said with a wink that made Barb shudder slightly, "Got plenty of seats if any of you want to join me?"

I thought for a second about leaving it all behind and going on a road trip with Roy, I'd only been to Vegas once in my entire life, and it had only been a passing visit. But I couldn't leave Gotham, not now, maybe not ever.

"I'm good, thanks," I said with a laugh.

"What about you, Blondie?" Roy asked, directing the question to Steph.

"Tempting," Steph replied, "But I think I'll stick around, going on the road with you sounds a lot like torture to me."

"You coulda just said no."

I was discharged a week later. Emily and Nate stopped by a few times, and I got cards from people I'd never even heard of. But nothing at all from the one person I wanted to see most, I thought maybe she hadn't heard what happened, but more likely she still blamed me for what happened to her father.

When I thought of her, I wished it would take me back to our first kiss, or the night I told her I loved her, but all I could see was that arrow soaring through the air and into the Talon's back. And the look on her face when she aimed that gun at me after seeing me drop her father to his death. What we had was tainted somehow, and no matter what happened, it seemed that we'd never get back to what we were. I wasn't totally sure I was even the same person anymore.

All these thoughts flashed by as I walked through the snow-covered grounds of Wayne Manor, up to the oak tree on the hill where Alfred stood waiting for me. Despite Bruce's plan to keep up the image that he was alive, we decided to hold a token funeral for him. No coffin, no grave, just friends and a few words.

Alfred's face was sunken, he'd aged ten years in the last few weeks, the stress and trauma were all visible in the harsh lines on his visage, and I was sure he'd not been eating properly, I knew I hadn't been since they sent me home.

"Master Grayson," Alfred said with a polite nod.

"Hey, Alf," I replied, I wanted to ask how he was but looking at him. I wasn't sure I'd like the answer, "Where is everyone?"

"You are uncharacteristically early, sir. Dr Thompkins is in the house; she'll be up in a moment. And Miss Gordon is on her way, she was collecting Miss Kane from the train station," Alfred explained.

"Kate's coming?" I said, surprised.

"Yes, the Justice League are holding a ceremony of their own, but Miss Kane said she would prefer to grieve with the family."

"Clark called me, asked me to go. I wasn't up to it."

"I did invite Miss Brown," Alfred went on, "But she felt it would be an intrusion."

"That's crazy; she's earned her place here."

"My thoughts exactly, but she couldn't be convinced, and alas, I felt my efforts would be better directed tidying up some of Master Bruce's affairs."

I didn't say anything, I hated the fact we had to lie about this, and I wanted as little a part in it as possible, though I knew that eventually, I'd have to face people and play along.

"Hey Alfred," Called a voice, it was Kate Kane, also known as Batwoman. She stood to my left and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. I gave her hand an affectionate squeeze but said nothing. Barbara came up on my right and held my hand.

Leslie trudged across the snow and held Alfred in a tight embrace, kissing him on the cheek. A tear rolled down the butler's cheek, which he tried to catch before anyone noticed.

"I was here, at Wayne Manor, many years ago when Master Bruce came into this world," Alfred began, "He was such a kind boy, always curious, always exploring where he shouldn't have been. Those first years were so wonderful, his brief childhood, I so wish he had not been forced so brutally and callously into adulthood..."

Alfred choked up and stopped speaking; he looked as though he might collapse under the weight of his grief. I stepped forward to be nearer to him. Resilient as ever, he raised a hand to halt me and continued, "But, the best of men are often forged in the flames of adversity, and Master Bruce overcame the strife of a childhood left in ruins, he cast himself aside and devoted himself to stopping the madness that snuffed out his innocence. He was... an example to us all."

Leslie spoke too, but it all became white noise, all there was was the dull feeling in the pit of my stomach.

For a few moments, we stood in silence. It felt as though they all wanted me to speak, but I couldn't find the words.

Barbara stepped forward and placed a single rose at the foot of the great oak tree, "Goodbye, Bruce."

Leslie kissed Alfred on the cheek, "Come on, let's get you inside," She said to him. At first, I thought he might resist, but he nodded and placed a hand on Leslie's. The two of them walked away, back towards the manor.

Barbara and Kate hugged me in turn and followed the other two back inside. I stood there staring at that tree for a while longer, trying to feel something, anything.

Alfred was still maintaining my room at the manor; there wasn't a speck of dust visible. Every gymnastics trophy shone like the days they were placed in my hands.

I stood alone, staring at the poster of the Grey Ghost hung above my old bed. 'Grey Ghost & The Phantasm' was Bruce's favourite movie; we'd watched it together when I was growing up, the final chapter in the Grey Ghost's story, a parallel to Sherlock Holmes' Final Problem. The Grey Ghost and his nemesis, the Phantasm, plummet over a dam akin to Holmes and Moriarty tumbling over the Reichenbach Falls.

Unlike Holmes, the Grey Ghost never got a resurrection. The writer always intended it to be that way. Bruce said it was better that way, for the story to have a true ending. Bruce's story was over too; he'd died a hero like Holmes and the Ghost, ridding the world of a great evil. And now, Bruce Wayne could rest.

"I have something for you," Barbara said, appearing in the doorway, "I was going to give it to you in the hospital, but it never seemed like the right time."

She stepped forward and handed me a folded note.

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's Melissa's address in Metropolis; you should go and see her."

I was surprised, I opened the note and saw that the handwriting wasn't Barbara's it was Melissa's.

"She came by," Barbara explained, "The day before they released you, she was standing in the parking lot, and I spotted her."

"But she didn't come inside?" I asked her, wondering whether she actually even meant for me to have the note at all.

"No, I went over, and she gave me the note... Then she got in a cab and left."

"I can't believe she came back to Gotham, did she say anything?"

"She just asked me to give you that and ran off before I could say anything, I called after her, but she just left," Barbara said, looking sympathetically at me.

"Great. So she might not have even wanted to see me."

"But, you want to see her, right?"

"After all this? I don't even know anymore. I have a box of her stuff I guess I could return, but..."

"You do what you think is best, just don't be alone, OK? I know you think you can deal with everything by yourself, and maybe you can, but you don't have to."

I understood what she was saying, but I did want to be alone, I needed to think, and I knew it wouldn't be long before she and Alfred were asking me to move into the manor, "Thanks, Barb," I said with a nod.

"I'll be downstairs," She smiled, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

I looked at the poster again. It was then that I realised, Bruce wasn't the whole story, he was just a part in the story, and one way or another the story itself was going to continue. I was going to be faced with a decision very soon, the biggest of my entire life.

I tore the note in half and let the remains fall to the floor as I headed for the door and turned out the bedroom light.

Bruce Wayne could rest, but it was up to me to say if the Batman could do the same.

I'd like to thank everyone who has read and stuck with this story through to the end, the support has honestly meant the world to me I and love hearing from you guys in the reviews. Hope you were happy with it (even if you weren't I'd still love to know to improve for next time).

I'm already in the process of writing a sequel and am toying with the idea of a weird spinoff featuring Roy Harper as a central character :)

I may throw up a few in-universe one-shots around certain characters too.

Til next time, thank you!