The Master's Bedroom
Part 1
By
AJ
Dick Grayson walked into his old bedroom only to find everything had been moved. His books, his stereo, his TV, even the old steamer trunk that had been his parents' had been moved. There was a blank spot on the wall that held the poster from his days in the circus. That most of all was one of his most treasured possessions.
'Alfred!" Dick cried out and rushed from the room, "ALFRED! I'VE BEEN ROBBED! Where are my things?"
"Calm yourself Master Richard," Alfred stated as he came out of the Master Bedroom. "You have not been robbed. I merely moved them to a more appropriate place."
"And where is that?"
Alfred led Dick back into the Master Bedroom. All his things were there. The room felt huge compared to his old bedroom, despite its size. Everything that had been identified as Bruce's had been packed away.
"Bruce's room?"
"Yes," Alfred replied. "You are now the Master of this house."
"No, I can't," Dick stated. "I'm not ready for that."
"Master Richard, it's been three months . . . "
"I don't care if it's been a year," Dick demanded. "Put my things back."
"Master Richard, you must keep up appearances . . ."
"Like Brue did? The playboy image? I'm not like him."
"I was thinking along the lines as a father image."
"I'm his brother, I'm not his father," Dick stated.
"Master Damian will look to you, Master Richard."
"I know he will, but I don't want to be a father to him. His father was Bruce . . ."
"And Master Bruce is gone," Alfred reminded him.
"I don't want to replace him," Dick stated. "If I move into that room it will be . . ." Tears threatened to spill as the emotions rose in his throat. "It will really feel like . . . I can't."
"I apologize Master Richard. I should have known you were still grieving."
"Alfred, he was my second father. I wasn't ready to lose him. And if I move into that room, it will be like I buried him all over again . . . Please, don't put me in that room. Put it back the way it was."
"All right Master Richard," Alfred stated. "I truly am sorry."
"Me too, Alfred. Me too."
Dick Grayson turned away from the Master Bedroom and returned to his old room. He shut the door and pulled out the folded sheet of paper he had carried in his wallet since the day he signed it. Bruce had officially declared him, Dick Grayson, his son and heir to his vast fortune, something he knew might happen some day, but not until Bruce was very old. He was just not ready for this. Bruce should not have died.
'He should be here, in that Master Bedroom, comforting me when I need it,' Dick wailed in his mind, but that wasn't going to happen. Not now, not ever again. Dick Grayson slid to the floor, brought his knees up, buried his face against his arms and wept.
Continues with Part 2