Chapter 3
.:BB:.
"The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it."
-W. M. Lewis
.:BB:.
Terry bounced out of bed. From the floor, he chose to phrase it as such, because in truth, he had been bounced out of his bed by his little brother. Matt didn't care about late night jobs or impending exams. He was young enough to still think Saturdays started with the sunrise, not in the afternoon. When Matt listed his plans for the day, Terry was too exhausted and guilt ridden to argue. Agreeing to watch Matt had seemed like a great mother-approved way of procrastinating studying a week ago, but as Matt pulled him half asleep to breakfast, Terry began to question his earlier logic.
He brought his books to the arcade anyway. Bruce had been telling him to work his multitasking skills. Watching the brat and trying to learn history seemed to fit. Yet Terry found it was impossible to study about Alger Hiss' trial when he couldn't forgive himself for leaving Dick alone in the cave with Wayne the previous night. Terry had managed to slink into his home without his family being any the wiser so the secret was still safe. But in the morning light, the secret seemed less important than the health and safety of the boy, even if Ace had taken a protective stance. His worry for Wayne was secondary. Even though if Wayne ever discovered the order of Terry's priority he would be finished, Terry wasn't in the mood to care.
After showing Dick where the showers were in the cave, a task that was completely unnecessary, Terry had found some sheets and clothes in Dick's size left in the cave; there had been no sign of Wayne. But knowing Wayne, there were cameras set up all around the cave, and he wouldn't be sleeping at all that night.
Ace had opted to stay with Dick. Not remembering the last time Ace had taken a liking to someone upon first meeting them, Terry was forced to leave the two alone so he could at least have a decent alibi with his mother. As no one was answering the phone at Wayne's, the only reassurance that everything was all right was there were no dead bodies on the news matching either Dick's or Wayne's descriptions.
When Matt had made his way through half of Terry's latest paycheck and Terry had discovered that the Hiss trail had something to do with Communism, it was finally time to leave. Terry's victory was cut short when he realized it wasn't even late enough in the day to get lunch. He still had a whole day of dealing with the squirt and was no closer to studying than cracking open his textbook.
Slumping down under a nearby tree, Terry unleashed his brother in the park. Terry grabbed his backpack and pondered on whose bright idea it was to include 100 years of history on one test. 'Whoever it was should be forced to write up a study aide at least,' he thought as he tried to stare down the picture of Fidel Castro and failed miserably. He sighed and forced himself to look at the materials instead of beating his head against the tree.
.:BB:.
A sticky tongue saved Dick from watching his parents fall again. Child services wouldn't consider waking up in a cave with a dog panting over them safe, but to Dick, the cave was home and the dog's breath smelled better than his childhood elephants'. The familiarity of the place and Ace's steady breathing soon melted any remnant of the dream.
Dick scratched behind Ace's ears, savoring the feeling that he had been protected that night. The two were guided through the dim light to the opposite end of the room where a silhouette of Bruce was standing. He looked worn to Dick, like he hadn't slept at all. Knowing he was the cause of Bruce's exhaustion, Dick promised himself not to ask anything else of his mentor.
Bruce wasn't even slightly distracted from his task by the high pitched whine the heavy chair made as Dick adjusted it so it was across from the older man. Even after climbing into the chair, Dick found he had to kneel on the seat and prop himself up with his elbows on the counter to get a decent view.
The counter was cluttered with beakers, notes and equipment, but it was all precisely organized with the names of the chemicals that Dick couldn't even imagine how to enunciate written in black block letters. Looking past the junk, Dick watched Bruce's steady hands as he combined two chemicals and studied them intensely. Unsure of how to continue their earlier conversation the night before, Dick briefly settled for the peace of the moment.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Research."
"Oh." Disappointment seeped deeply into the word. After what seemed like an eternity, Dick noticed he was starving. Not wanting to distract Bruce from his project, Dick tried to will his stomach silent, but his stomach was louder than his mind. The kitchen called Dick from the mansion and since Bruce didn't seem to notice when he hopped down from the chair, he saw no reason to deny the kitchen's decree.
He had hoped that Ace would accompany him, but his friend had plopped himself down with his head across Bruce's feet and seemed uninterested in moving. As he climbed towards the entrance, Dick's full attention was dedicated to seeing how many steps he could get up at one time. Without using any flips or tricks, Dick could almost make it up four when he bumped into somebody coming down the steps.
Easily catching his balance before the other person could even reach for his shoulder, Dick stared up at the woman who had blocked his path. Dick didn't miss the look of shock on her face before she covered it with a slight smile.
"Going somewhere, munchkin?" The words were said playfully, but they couldn't cover the edge in her voice. Somehow, Dick knew that voice should be associated more with laughter than the acidity it carried now.
Although he had instantly liked the woman with the short white hair and the trench coat, Dick couldn't help but pout out his lower lip and cross his arm defiantly at the name of "munchkin." He tried to do his best Batman impersonation to prove that he was too old to be considered for such a childish name. "Upstairs."
Her raised eyebrow established that she wasn't impressed with Dick's efforts. He resolved to spend sometime staring at the mirror to impress her next time; for some reason he couldn't clench he jaw tight enough to gain the desired effect in the one word. Or maybe it had something to do with the vocal chords, he would have to compare the vibration of Bruce's throat next time he spoke with the voice to Bruce's normal pulsation.
With no alternative to accepting his defeat, Dick swung his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels. "To the kitchen. I was hungry," he admitted.
"We'll see what we can do about that – after I talk to Bruce."
He sighed and allowed her to guide him back down the steps. Knowing grownup conversations, he wouldn't get to eat until he was thirty and old.
The theory was only partially correct; it did take forever, but he wasn't any older, not really. Dick had known better than to listen to their conversation, but he couldn't help but listen to the murmur of the woman's voice as it drifted to his ears. He struggled to place her. It seemed like they had known each other all their lives, but he didn't understand their connection. Like everything else, it was buried inside his mind; but unlike the other memories, he felt he was fighting himself, instead of the white-hooded men, to remember.
It was another mystery that would have to wait to be solved as Bruce and the lady came back so Bruce could make introductions. "Richard, I would like you to meet Commissioner Barbara Gordon."
Richard hadn't been called 'Dick' yet by Bruce. The man seemed to be avoiding the name like the plague, but if Dick dwelled on every strange thing that Bruce did, there would be no time to eat.
"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Gordon. Everybody calls me Dick," he informed her as he offered her his hand.
"Okay Dick, then I'm Barbara." As she firmly clasped his hand in a friendly manner, Dick felt like he had been shot. It was his clearest vision yet and the only one he had seen so far in first person. He was with Batgirl, perched on some gargoyles atop a building. Her red hair flowed freely in the night breeze as her giggle penetrated through the car horns below. "Robin, I swear if you do one more bad William Shatner impersonation I will push you off this roof!" The threat seemed hollow even after she had regained control of her facial features.
"But . . . Batgirl," he began, throwing in dramatic pauses and overzealous arm motions. "All . . . William Shatner . . . impersonations are-"
She would've caught him more off guard if she hadn't included the battle cry when she lunged for him. But instead, her arms grasped air as he dived gracefully off the gargoyle's head and continued his horrible impressions. "Beam me down . . . Scotty!"
Her cry of frustration was lost in the rush of air sweeping past his body. As the side of the building was lost in a blur, the details on the street became sharper. He could only clearly see what was directly in front of him as he allowed the rest of the world to grow dim so he became completely enthralled by his free fall. The adrenaline jolted his sense alive and he wondered if there was a time to ever feel more immortal than when facing the possibility of death.
Almost regrettably, Dick felt his body twist in the air and throw out a jump line to a nearby fire escape at the last possible second. Swinging in an arc around the building, he knew Batgirl would be in pursuit soon. The only way she could catch up with him now was if he let her, and then she would probably beat him up; he landed on a nearby ledge anyway and waited.
Dick, lost in the memory, never felt the hand on his shoulder or the worried calls of his name.
.:BB:.
He hadn't been expecting to be attacked from the left, although he should have know better than to let his guard down for a second. Swerving that direction, Terry managed to leap and block the offending object before it got past him. Tumbling out of his dive, Terry readied himself for the next attack. He had knocked out too many to give up now; only two of them remained. He hadn't found the right angle yet to get through their defenses, but the fate of the world rested on his shoulders and he hadn't failed yet. It was coming back at him, he was sure to get them this time, it was so close-
"McGinnis!"
Terry jumped at the sound of his name said inches from his face, almost instinctively punching a pair of twinkling green eyes. Drawing his hand back to instead massage the nape of his neck, Terry reassured himself that unlike his dream, the Berlin Wall hadn't fallen like a game of Brickles. With his head clear, Terry glanced over at the intruder and came face to face with Commissioner Barbara Gordon. "Someone was listening to one of Wayne's stealth tangents," he said almost bitterly.
"Well, it was a good thing too or we all would be arguing with Bruce right now."
Terry winced. Not expecting details to be out so soon, he didn't have a prepared speech. "He told you, huh?"
"Yes, although I think he's in as much shock as you are."
"Now that's something I need to see to believe. So how much info did he give up?"
"Just that you were trying to make introductions as quickly as possible. Then his usual Bruce answer, said with less words of course. I got most of the details from another source and my ears are still ringing from it."
"So you met the kid then?"
"Met him? Who do you think was designated baby-sitter for the day? He was up early and Bruce couldn't get any work done with Dick running around. That kid's got spunk, I'll grant him that. I wonder if I ever had that much energy when I was his age."
"I thought you looked a little worn around the edges."
"You're a real lady-charmer, you know that? Maybe it's not just your night job that prevents you from going out on dates."
For the second time that Saturday, Terry failed to glare someone down. "Fine, I'll admit it: I don't look that great today either. So you brought him here for the day?"
"We were at the zoo for awhile, he practically dragged me to the elephants. I stood there for an hour, worried that he was going to climb in there with them while learning more about elephants then I thought there was information on. The conversation kept turning back towards an elephant name Eleanor." The shining in Barbara's eyes was intensified when she laughed. "Did you know that Elephants will eat watermelon, or at least one named Zitka did. Crap, he's got me doing it now."
"So what do you think of Dick?"
"Great kid, hope he's not a plant or anything, figuratively or literally."
"You too with the plants? What I meant was: Do you believe that he is really your old friend Richard Grayson?"
"I've seen a lot of weird things since I was your age. I don't know if I would believe half the stuff I saw if it wasn't on file. I didn't know Dick until much after he started to fly so I'm not qualified to judge."
Puzzled by her sudden sullen attitude, Terry had to prompt her to continue. "But if you had to guess-"
"If I had to guess I'd say that Dick Grayson was a carefree, hyperactive boy who would know a lot about circus animals."
Terry was stunned by her ability to avoid questions, even though she seemed to find it annoying in Wayne. Their conversation had turned darker and Terry hated to spoil the first conversation that they had had where she seemed cheerful and relaxed with herself. "So tell me about Dick. All I know was that he was the ward of Bruce Wayne." Terry was rewarded with another smile as Barbara seemed to float back in time.
"He always put everyone else first. He was smart, smart-mouthed, flirtatious, and enthusiastic during the day, and the only thing different at night was the tights. He could make you laugh at yourself, forget your cares. No matter what you were doing or where you were, he had a bad joke and he wasn't afraid to tell it . . . and he called me an 'amateur' my first night out."
"Were you?"
The innocent 'who me?' look didn't fool Terry for a second. "Everything mechanical that he touched ran. Had a passion for motorcycles, used to pull the craziest stunts on them; I'm surprised he wasn't grounded from them. He never got around to building himself his hotrod. Was going to be a Goat, a jet-black GTO convertible, revamped of course. But there was a slightly more complex side to him.
"His goals were all set high, the need to prove his worth to Bruce when he was left behind drove him harder for so long. When I first took to the night, he was already living on campus and finding less time to help Bruce, but he still needed to be a part of Bruce's life and it was difficult on both of them. He certainly had a temper on him. That boy could flair up in a second and there was no stopping him. Could hold a grudge like nobody's business when it came to anyone threatening his family - or if the person was a member of his family. He couldn't easily forgive what he saw as betrayal."
Terry could tell her good mood was broken again. The wrong questions just always seemed to come out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"Hmm. That's one opinion. You know, you're a lot like him."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I doubt Bruce even thought of it when he hired you. You have the same black hair, blue eyes, rogue attitude . . . almost as if he was collecting carbon copies."
Barbara's final hushed comment would never make its way to Terry's ears. It was crushed by the rising cries of fear and helplessness that followed the rupture of gunfire. Terry didn't have to watch to see the mothers throwing their bodies over their children to protect them or observe their futile chaotic dash to find fictional cover. The stench of the discharged weapon, the echoes of the wounded and the feeling of dismay that blanketed the area told the story all too familiar.
Terry knew that many were probably already dead; he knew that Barbara had already pulled out her piece and had readied herself from the first sign of distress; he knew that more than just the Sierra Desert separated himself from Matt; he knew that the woman who would have to live with one less son could be his mother; and he knew there was nothing Batman could do.
.:BB:.