Author's Note: Okay, I lied. The story isn't done yet because the characters won't let me and we aren't really at the end. Dick is being especially persuasive (it's those blue eyes) and he wants to be really, really back to normal before I put them all back into their boxes at the end of the day. So, keep on readin'...

CHAPTER 36-Reconnecting

At Alfred's insistence, Bruce went to bed and allowed the others to watch over Dick. Still, he worried. He'd never been in this kind of situation before. Sure, Jason had died wearing a Robin uniform, but a few payoffs to some corrupt government officials had brought him home in a closed coffin. It had been handled. Dick wasn't dead. No, he mused, he was broken and it was all Bruce's fault. How could he not do his very best for his oldest son? Dick would do the same for him and Wayne Enterprises be damned.

With that resolved, he turned over and dropped into sleep.

3 A. M. DICK'S BEDROOM

"I think it's my turn, Alfred," Barbara tiptoed quietly into Dick's room.

A very tired butler looked up and smiled. "Thank you, my dear. He's been very quiet so far, but he might awaken while you are with him."

"I understand," she said, looking at Dick and biting her lip. "Somehow, I never expected him to have this kind of injury. Burns, gunshot wounds, broken bones? That's par for the course. But this?" She sat in the chair newly vacated by Alfred.

"Every man has his breaking point, Miss Barbara," Alfred said gently. "But Master Dick has always been resilient; that is what I am counting on now." He patted her shoulder. "There is hot coffee in the thermos. I shall see you in the morning."

"Good night, Alfred," she said and settled in for her shift.

A few hours later she looked up from her book to see a pair of worn blue eyes watching her quietly. She closed the paperback and settled into her chair.

"Good morning, Dick," she said. "How do you feel?"

"You look just like her," Dick said. "The Barbara I knew as a kid, I mean."

"I am the Barbara you knew as a kid," she said with some asperity. "I thought you had your memories back."

Dick smiled crookedly. "Oh, those. And more. I just can't tell the difference now. Take this room, for instance," he waved a hand. "The bedspread is either blue or green depending on which Earth I'm inhabiting. So, I'm still here with Batman and Bruce Wayne?"

"Just like you always have been," she replied. "Owlman is gone and he won't be back. You're safe from him now."

"Really? Where is he? Did he take Alfred...um...Pennyworth with him?" Dick asked, pushing himself to sit up, then finding the restraints. "Well...damn..." He glared down at the bands on his wrists, then tried to move his legs without effect.

Barbara's eyebrows raised. "They're for your own safety. You were pounding your head against the walls of your cell when Batman took you down." Her lip quirked. "Actually, it took Tim, Jason, Bruce and Alfred to subdue you. You haven't lost your gift, Former Boy Wonder."

"Well, that explains the headache, then, and why I feel like I've been drugged." Dick smiled back, relaxing against the pillow. "I haven't lost my gift, just my mind, Babs. So, what now?"

"Owlman's back on his own Earth and that weird butler too. You're home. Now you'll have some time to recuperate and get your thinking straight. And Richard Grayson, don't you dare try suicide again!" She got up and stood over him.

"I was just trying to quiet all the voices, most of them telling me to kill Bruce and all his allies. You," he said quietly. "I had to make them go away."

"I was in the control room and I got to watch you trying to kill yourself," she said, looming over him with arms folded. "Do you know how I felt? How helpless I was?" She unfolded the arms and moved even closer, glaring. "And do you know what it would do to Bruce if you had succeeded? Not to mention Alfred and Tim. Even Jason would be sorry. I think...Anyway, losing you would really hit the family hard. I don't know how we'd recover from it. If Bruce was bad after Jason got killed and Damian died, he'd be destroyed if you committed suicide! He'd never forgive himself in a million years!" She realized that she was shouting at him and snuffled back the tears that were clogging her nose and voice.

"Would you miss me?" Dick asked, eyes looking very blue.

"Of course I would," she said, then took a deep breath. "Do you remember proposing to me?"

Dick frowned. "Yeah... I do. It was on an airstrip, right? Then I got hurt and took a long time recovering...and we kinda back-burnered it, right?"

"Pretty much," she replied, pulling the ring out from a chain around her neck. "I haven't forgotten. I'm glad you remember it now."

"But, Babs, how do I know I'm not the Richard Grayson that Thomas raised?" Dick asked miserably. "How do I know that those memories are the right ones? For all I know, Thomas was right and it was Bruce who planted them in my memory."

"You were trained by Bruce to be a detective, relying on objective evidence. Well, Detective, I've got some video to show you," she said, walking over to the t.v. set. "They were lying to you all along. Watch." She clicked a remote and they both watched: first, Pennyworth admitting to Alfred that he had killed Richard Grayson, then all the interviews between Bruce and Thomas, video of Owlman and Pennyworth together. Videos of Bruce frantically trying to help Dick, up to their taking him down after the suicide attempt. After the last video was over, she clicked it off. "That should bring you up to date, Dick. This is what has been happening while you were sick."

Dick was white and shaken. "Bruce was pleading with Owlman for...for me?"

She nodded. "There isn't much he wouldn't do for you. D'you think he'd go this far for a stranger?"

Dick flashed her a crooked smile. "Yeah, he probably would, but it's nice to see him doing it for me. So, the talon memories are false?"

"Yes, they're false. Don't listen to them," she replied. "So, you're still hearing your 'voices'?"

"Not so much since you showed me the truth," Dick admitted. "My memories of Wayne Manor and this Gotham are stronger, for now, at least. The other ones are still there but feel kinda washed out. Not that they couldn't be activated again." He looked around the room and tugged at the restraints. "You...uh...don't know where Owlman is now, do you?" he asked fearfully.

"So that you can join him?" Barbara asked casually, but held her breath.

"No! So I can stay the hell away from him! That guy is scary enough but his butler!" Dick shook his head. "I don't think I want either of them inside my head anymore. Wish I knew how to evict them."

"Time is probably a factor," Barbara said. "And being around familiar things."

Dick nodded silently and stared at the darkened flat screen, remembering Barbara's visit to his cell. "So, Babs, you're still wearing my ring. Does that mean we're still a 'go' for getting married?" His impudent grin made her giggle.

"I never called it off, Former Boy Wonder," she said. "I've been waiting for you all this time." She leaned over the bed and kissed him thoroughly, leaving him with a dazed smile. "Feel better now?"

"Somehow, I don't think Talon had anything like this on his Earth," he said, leaning in for another kiss. It was long, deep and soul-satisfying. So much so, that Dick hauled himself back. "You shouldn't marry me, Babs, not the way I am now."

"Why not?" she asked gently.

"I...I don't really know who I am," Dick swallowed hard, the longing shining from his eyes. "And I don't know who I'll be in a year. I can't bind you to that. I might not even be alive in a year, if Nightwing's enemies catch up to me."

"I'll wait a while longer, Former Boy Wonder," Barbara said and put her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to meet her gaze. "But things will get better. I promise. You'll stay here at Wayne Manor and not do something stupid, like going it alone?"

"Yeah, until Bruce and I disagree about something..." Dick muttered. "Babs, d'you think I can be let out of the cuffs now? I need to use the bathroom and I promise I won't try to hurt myself."

She narrowed her eyes. "You swear?"

"I'll even pinky-swear, if that's what you want," Dick said, lifting the named digit.

"Okay." She linked her right pinky around his left, then unlocked the restraints. "Idiot."

WAYNE MANOR-KITCHEN

"Penny for your thoughts, sir?" Hot coffee miraculously poured into Bruce's cup, breaking his train of thought.

"Good morning, Alfred," he said, sipping the coffee carefully. "I hope you got some sleep last night?" He reflected that one of Alfred's most mysterious attributes was his complete failure ever to look exhausted, no matter how long he had been awake. Batman had envied that trait for years.

"Indeed I did, sir. I am only just out of bed," Alfred said with a smile. "We have good news."

"Do we?" Bruce asked doubtfully.

"Yes, Miss Barbara had the early morning watch with Master Dick and believes she's made a breakthrough of sorts. She showed him all of the videos we have of Owlman and Pennyworth. And of everyone, sir, while Master Dick was missing. Including you."

An eyebrow crept up. "All of them?" Bruce asked warily.

"Master Dick is a very intelligent young man and will catch any lies or evasions on our part. It is important that he be fully informed," Alfred said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down at the table beside Bruce.

Both Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Alfred, you don't usually...I mean, generally you refuse to..."

Alfred held up a hand. "This is family business, sir, and since I regard myself as family, I feel that I am owed a seat at the table. Have you decided to take Dr. Thompkin's advice regarding Master Dick?"

Bruce studied his coffee. "I don't want an outsider having access to our secrets."

Alfred sighed and stood up. "I always find that coffee goes much better with fresh scones." He left and quickly returned with a plateful of blueberry scones , a pot of butter and plates with knives. He set a place for them both and sat back down.

"While you eat, I shall talk." The old man stared at Bruce until he had served himself a scone and begun buttering it. "You owe it to Master Dick to give him the best care possible. He has made an appreciable difference in your life over the years and to hear you prate of 'secrets' makes my blood boil."

"They aren't just my secrets," Bruce stuffed part of a scone into his mouth, suddenly feeling twelve years old. "They are the secrets of every member of the League. They trusted me with them and I can't let them down," he said thickly around the scone. He grabbed his cup and took a swallow. "I'd rather wait and see how Dick is doing before calling in a stranger for him. Besides, you just said you had good news."

"Ah. Yes, Master Dick has begun remembering his life here with us and has...erm...resumed his romantic relationship with Miss Gordon. Hopefully this will help to drown those voices of his. Nevertheless, I maintain that the lad needs and deserves professional help." Alfred leaned back in his chair and studied the man he'd raised. "Or are you concerned with something beyond the secrets you and Master Dick know?" He leaned forward again, watching Bruce's eyes. "Are you concerned that the psychologist might want you to share in some of her sessions?" Seeing his master flinch, Alfred let out a loud snort. "Sir, your unfortunate sessions with a child psychologist when you were newly bereaved don't enter into this."

Suddenly cornered, Bruce hunkered over his coffee. "That's not relevant."

"Her prime focus will be Master Dick, I assure you," Alfred said gently. He took a scone and nibbled it. "You do remember that I also cooperated with the psychologist sessions when you were a lad. And I called a halt to them when I determined that they were doing more harm than good."

Bruce said nothing, staring into his cup.

"If you participate, you will have that same opportunity. For Master Dick's sake," Alfred went on.

"Damn," Bruce breathed. The two sat in silence for several minutes. Alfred finished his scone, waiting him out.

"All right, Alfred, I'll do it. But the instant I think she's taking notes for a book or...or doing anything that might hurt Dick, I'm calling a halt to the sessions," he said from under furrowed eyebrows.

"I would expect nothing less from you, sir," Alfred hid a smirk and gathered up the empty plates and cups.

DICK'S BEDROOM

Rubbing his wrists, Dick got off the bed and stretched. He ambled towards the bathroom.

"Keep the door open, Former Boy Wonder!" she called.

"Kinky!" he replied with a grin, but kept the door open while he did his business. "You okay if I take a shower?"

"By all means, but keep the bathroom door open," she replied.

"You always did like to watch," he called back and started the water flowing. Stripping off the t-shirt and shorts they'd dressed him in, he stepped into the spray. It felt good to get clean, he just wished that he could scrub his soul too. He felt dirty inside, as though he'd been travelling through Gotham's sewers. The taint of Owlman hung over him.

He pressed his forehead against the tile, letting the water pound against his back. He had bruises and pains whose source he couldn't identify, so much had happened. But he was home, now. Or was he? The voices still spoke to him; actually one voice: that green-haired butler. He could almost believe that the Joker had transmitted part of his own soul with the poison he'd dosed Pennyworth with. Pennyworth had been the one doing most of the brainwashing, he realized now. What else had he planted inside his mind? His eyes opened wide. How would he ever know? Every violent urge, every impulse, with his skills, he could kill somebody before he realized it.

But, he'd never be Nightwing again. That part of his life had been ripped away from him, that was certain. He wouldn't be a danger to a team like the Titans or to Bruce or anyone he loved. But he still might be other things, whether he wanted to or not. The Court of Owls still wanted him as a talon, he knew that. Owlman would claw his way out of Hell to get him back, he knew that too. Bruce had trained the perfect sidekick, he'd known that for years. A few super-villains had even offered Batman money to sell them him small partner, offers which had been quickly refused with punches and kicks and not just from Batman.

"What do I do?" he whispered. "I've been Batman's partner since I was nine. Who am I now?" A 'normal' life? Doing what? He didn't see himself as a... a roofer or a sandwich maker or, he smiled, a car salesman. He'd left college, maybe he could go back and get that business degree. If he went back to Haley's, they would find him. "That's the first place they'd look."

"You okay in there, Man Wonder?" Babs called from the room. "Who are you talking to?"

Oh yeah, Babs. "Just myself, Barbara," he called back. "I'm fine." He turned off the water. Might as well face his new reality, although he still didn't know what on earth he was going to do now.

WAYNE MANOR-Bruce's study

Bruce held the now-crumpled business card in one hand, the receiver of his desk phone in the other. He didn't have to do this. Alfred wasn't always right. Dick was a grown man and he'd dealt with injuries before.

Right. And Superman was a Martian.

He sighed and dialed the number. The line rang once. Twice. Maybe he'd just be leaving a message in her voice ma-

"Hello?"