Kay, I know I said I'd do another shrinky thing next, but I wanted to kill someone off, peacefully. Enjoy! Or sob. Or just ignore. No, no one in my life's died recently *knock wood* but I wanted to conclude something started in another chapter.

Dick-17

Kane's End

Bruce froze, still clutching the telephone to his ear as the rest of the world turned around him. Damian was coloring on his toy table in the study with him and he could hear his older brothers noisily fighting/playing just beyond the study's doors. No doubt their sister was either trying to break them up or trying to ignore them, and Alfred was probably praying nothing would break. Beyond him the world kept on going.

Yet the words from the other end of the line kept going through his ears, freezing him. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

The man on the other end sighed. "Your grandmother, Elisabeth Kane, passed away this morning, around three a.m. if my calculations are right. She went peacefully and..."

Bruce didn't quite hear everything the man was saying, still lost in the news. His grandmother... she died? The woman who practically rejected him and his entire family was dead? His mother's mother... She was old, he always knew that, but she was a tough old lady. He never even thought about her dying, not once. It seemed impossible. And yet... "I see..."

"Funeral arrangements are being made by her lawyer, but I believe the date is set for the 18th."

"Understood. Thank you for telling me." Listlessly, he hung up then just stared at the phone. It was an antique, a fancy rotary phone with a delicate look. His mother picked it out and said it'd give the room more character. The only times it was moved was when Alfred cleaned under it. This was its spot.

It was almost poetic he'd learn of his grandmother's death through that phone.

"Daddy!" Damian's voice jerked him out of his thoughts. Cheerfully the boy brought the drawing he was working on into view. It actually resembled a cat, with a lot of teeth. A bright yellow and green cat. "Wook what I dwew!"

Bruce forced a smile to come to his face, trying to rid himself of the uneasiness inside while he encouraged his son's good behavior. "Very nice kitty. Good job Damian."

The toddler grinned cheerily and dashed over to his work space to start another drawing. He watched the boy for a minute, wondering if he would understand what it meant for the woman to die. The two of them only met once, and he sincerely doubted he would remember the encounter. The others would.

The question was, should he tell the others? None of them were close to his grandmother. He wasn't close to her either. He couldn't even understand why he was called personally about it. So what was he going to do now?

Bruce had finished putting Tim to bed and the others were winding down when he heard the doorbell ring. It was thankfully very subtle in that part of the house so no one woke up, but it was still inconvenient. He had a few cases to look into and it was too late for the children to have visitors. Glaring his annoyance, he made his way towards the main foyer to see who arrived. Alfred no doubt already answered the door, hopefully not to a psychopath.

Part of him wished he met Alfred on the way towards the foyer, but he had a hunch it wouldn't be that simple. The entire afternoon wasn't that simple. Not since that phone call. Shaking his head, the man made it to the ground floor and turned toward the main entrance. Before he could get there, his ever faithful butler appeared from the sitting room. "Who was at the door?"

The old man hesitated a moment before answering. "Philip Kane, to see you."

His stomach did a flip as he realized what was coming. Slowly he nodded. "Thank you. I'll take care of the rest."

"Will you be needing anything after your meeting?" The question carried with it concern for the man's former charge. Ever the guardian this one. He knew how hard it was for Bruce to face his mother's side.

But one thing he never told Alfred was which uncle he preferred to talk to. He shook his head and put on a small smile. "I'll be fine."

"Bruce." Alfred looked him straight in the eye, making certain he wasn't lying. "Is there something I should know?"

He stopped momentarily, taking in a breath before saying a word. "I'll tell you everything after I talk to him. Over coffee."

"Tea," his caretaker amended, setting the terms for their discussion. It made him smirk.

"Tea. Just remember, I have work to do tonight."

"A little tea is not going to prevent you from working Master Bruce."

"Some have." A knowing look passed between them as they left each other to tend to other matters. They could not forget the times Alfred drugged his tea so he would get more than a few minute's sleep while he was Batman. When he was first retiring, he actually requested the drink so he could return to a normal sleeping pattern. Since then he'd been wary of tea at night. Considering the man drugged it twice during Dick's absence, his paranoia was very understandable.

Stopping just out of sight of the sitting room's interior, Bruce took a deep breath, steeling himself for the news soon to come. Believing himself ready, he walked into the room and greeted the nicer uncle. "Uncle Phillip."

"Bruce!" Phillip Kane jerked away from the artwork he was admiring, highly surprised by his entrance. The man was fun to scare as he recalled. Their eyes were the one featured they shared, and also shared with his mother, Martha. His hair was only thinning a little but turned grey in recent years instead of the lush brown Bruce remembered as a child. He was around Alfred's height but fuller build, and today he wore plainer clothes. His pants and jacket didn't match and he wasn't wearing a tie. With the ruffled features and his hair not being matted to his head, not to mention the tired look in his eyes, it was clear he'd been running around all day taking care of everything he could, while ignoring his personal distress. Which only mounted to the question as to why he came here when he dearly needed rest.

Quickly the visitor crossed the room and extended his hand, trying to put up a brave face. "I'm so sorry for dropping by this late. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

They shook hands as Bruce gave the correct answer. "Not really. Everyone's headed to bed but I have some paperwork. What brings you here? I thought you and Uncle Samson didn't want to step foot in Wayne Manor ever again."

Phillip huffed out a bitter laugh. "No, that was all Sam. He would probably shoot me for coming, but that guy's going to have to deal with it." The man's smile dropped, making Bruce's stomach turn over. Here it came. "Bruce, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Would you care to sit down?" He waved a hand over to the chairs and couch, hoping to give the man a little rest before making things worse for himself.

But he waved it off. "No no. If I sit, I don't think I'll be able to get back up. Bruce..." He looked up into the man's eyes as he delivered the news. "Your grandmother's dead."

The impact he felt that afternoon returned as the words struck him once again. Thankfully he was prepared this time. Phillip continued. "She died of acute heart failure, but we all know it's because of old age. She was pushing ninety and..." He sighed heavily. "At least she went peacefully in her sleep."

"I see..." He watched the man for a moment, taking in his weariness. It hit him pretty hard. It would. Bruce could remember his state at both his parents and his grandfather's funerals. He didn't take death well. "How are you holding up?"

The question seemed to shock his guest, who then put up a weak smile. "As well as can be expected. We knew this was coming. But you're never really prepared for this kind of thing are you." He looked off into the distance for a moment before dragging himself back to the now. "Anyway, I came here to tell you... and ask for you to be one of the pall-bearers at her funeral."

"What?" That took him for a spin. Him? Carry his grandmother's casket? He was hardly part of the Kane family, almost completely cut off. The last time he talked to his grandmother was at the last reunion and only to have her accept his children into society, particularly Damian.

"It was one of her last requests actually." Phillip smirked bitterly before expanding on it. "She really regretted the way she treated you Bruce, and your kids. She just had a lot of pride. She couldn't admit it no matter what happened. When Richard was missing," Bruce shifted defensively at the mention, "she hired private investigators to help in the search. Her words were, even though he was a gypsy from a rundown circus, he still managed to settle you down into a respectable man. She said she knew how it was to lose a beloved child, and she didn't wish that on anyone."

"She..." He could hardly believe it. Grandmother looked for Dick too? What else had she done he didn't know about?

"I think she hung on as long as she did because she wanted to make sure your family was alright. She really wanted to see you married..." The man looked away momentarily to catch his breath, then went on. "She specifically requested you helped her to her grave Bruce. You, me, Sam... We could add whomever else we wanted, but we three had to be there. Her lawyer also mentioned you were in her will. I don't know what's in it for you, but the reading will be on Monday. Five pm at the Kane estate."

"The funeral?"

Phillip looked away again for strength before answering. "The ceremony's Sunday, ten am, at the estate. There's a chapel there and... It's a short drive to the cemetery. There will be a lunch after. Formal wear," he added quickly. A small smirk tugged at his lips. "You remember how formal she always was."

They both fell into silence for a moment, not knowing what else to say. Phillip had delivered his message, but he did not want to leave on a bad note. To save his face, Bruce nodded. "We'll be there. Thank you for coming."

"If I didn't, then my mother's last wishes would never be fulfilled." He offered his hand one last time as a parting gift. Thoughtful, the man added one thing more as they shook. "I know we haven't been on the best of terms Bruce, but there is rarely a day I wish I could have gotten it right when you were a kid. Maybe if I paid more attention and encouraged visits-"

"There's very little for you to apologize for." For a brief moment, Bruce remembered the time he was in the custody of his uncles. Mostly he was under Uncle Samson's eye, Phillip trying to handle paperwork and companies he wasn't equipped for. Phillip Kane was not a very good business man, no matter how hard he tried, and he did try. The days the two actually got together were okay in hindsight. Not the best, but the entire time he 'lived' with them was difficult.

"Still, I wish we were friends." He looked down sadly. "Mother would have liked that. Never would have said it, but that's how she is. Was." The visitor shook his head. "Martha would have liked it too.

"I better get going. Still a lot to do. Hopefully the next funeral I'll arrange is my own. Good night Bruce."

"Good night." Not waiting for any assistance, Phillip near marched out of the room and towards the front door. Bruce didn't follow after, lost in his own thoughts and memories. Sighing to himself, he walked over to his favorite chair there and dropped into it, his hands going through his hair as he tried to regain the control he needed. He really did not know how to handle everything he learned that day. Throw a crazed megalomaniac sociopath and he could take care of it in a few hours. Bring up his mother's family and he felt like he was nine years old again, walking an emotional tight rope.

How was he even going to bring it up to the others?

Well, judging by the slight footfall just within the doorway he might not have to. He sensed more than heard Dick coming in, checking on him. Sighing heavily, he looked up and spotted the teen worrying over him. "How much did you hear?"

"I only started paying attention when he said funeral." Looking his father over, the teen asked the obvious question. "Are you gonna be alright? I know you and your grandma weren't close but-"

"It'll take a while to adjust," Bruce admitted. Slowly he forced himself to his feet and started walking towards the kitchen. He had to talk to Alfred about this. "This wasn't unexpected, just took us off guard. Could you tell the others in the morning that we're attending her funeral on Sunday?"

Slowly the lad nodded, still watching him. He fell instep after him as he headed towards the kitchen for some promised tea. "Bruce, really, how are you feeling? I mean, you two weren't close but you're gonna carry her casket. That's gotta be-"

"Going to and have to," the man stressed, correcting his grammar. Really, since Deathstroke, he was falling back into some old habits. The not-quite-an-adult rolled his eyes as he continued. "Didn't realize you were dabbling in psychiatry now."

"Hard not to pick a few things up." Knowing his questions would be headed off, Dick stopped asking about the man's emotional condition. The answer was obvious anyway: no, he wasn't alright. He was far from alright, but he was going to manage it. Somehow.

The service was pleasant, if noisy from all the cellphones and business deals going on in the background. Though the chapel and grounds overflowed with people, only two dozen actually cared about the woman in the casket. To many, this was just another high class get-together. Only those who cared carried the woman to her grave, and Bruce was among them. He was going to insist Alfred helped as well, but Samson wouldn't have it. The man was still an arrogant bastard.

Though Elisabeth Kane was buried Sunday, Bruce found himself at her gravesite, clutching his inheritance from her. In her will, she left him a series of safety deposit boxes containing his mother's treasures. Drawings from when she was little, photographs, art projects, even a trinket she bought for her mother while on her honeymoon. Most importantly, Grandmother left him her journals.

In the end, Bruce was given every memory his grandmother possessed of his mother. They were more precious than any other treasure she could have left him, and he was more than grateful for these memories than for anything else she possessed. The least he could do is say thank you.

"Hello Grandmother." He analyzed her gravestone as he spoke: an angel with her arms and wings wide and accepting. Almost her complete opposite. Funny. "I got your gifts. I'll take good care of my mother's memories. Honestly I wish I could have learned about her more through you than through books, but... I guess pride wouldn't let us."

The man looked down sadly, thinking about how tragic his family relations were. "Your son Samson... he has declared himself the head of the Kane family now, but so have a few others. I didn't know there was so much tension between all the branches. Did you push me away to spare me the conflict? If so, thank you. I'm sure to have enough problems with my own brood when they become adults. I don't want to deal with all of... that.

"I'm sure you've already said hello to my parents, but say it once again for me and the others. I'll visit every once in a while. If I ever get married, I'll introduce her to you. Uncle Phillip told me about what you did for my family. Not just the private investigators, but how you defended my children from the naysayers. I'm beginning to see where I got my stubborn streak."

He watched her grave in silence for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I only wish we could have connected prior to the grave. Thank you, for everything. I'll do what I can to continue your good works. Rest well."

Finally, he moved away from the grave site and towards his car. The kids were enjoying their vacation at home so he didn't think he should drag them to see this grave so soon. Maybe in time, but for now, it was the Kane's place to grieve. An era ended with Elisabeth Kane. It was time to live in the new one.

A/N: yeah, kinda boring, but sometimes normal unexpected things are that way. Only one of my grandparents is alive right now so I know how the impact is on parents who lose their parents or grandparents. My mom had a really hard time when her mom died and I felt a lot like Dick at that point: wanting to help her but she really wouldn't let me, nor really could I. So I just supported her. That's all Dick can really do here too. AS for the journals, well, I would think with Bruce being super rich, memories would be more valuable than anything else to him. The Kanes would have sued if he was given money or estates anyway. I thought he'd want everything to do with his mother more than anything else.

I don't really plan on anything else with the Kanes so consider this the end of that chapter, started in Kane Reunion. If i ever get around to doing my version of Bruce's childhood, you'll have a lot of them and a general idea of how they were around then. I'll add that to my list of need to do eventually. Whatevs. I need to eat.