Chapter 5

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"Forgiveness is the answer to the child's dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is made clean again."
-Dag Hammarskjöld

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"Some people never change." Bruce's sad remark was only supposed to be echoed through the cave, but this time it was interrupted by Barbara. Her sharp, underlining tone was not lost on Bruce's ears.

"Other people don't let them change."

"Meaning?"

"You know me better than that Bruce; you know yourself better too."

Bruce's cane handle would have shattered if his grip became any firmer. Motionless, Bruce's eyes met the former Batgirl's challenge. Barbara's words chased each other in a tireless circuit around the cave.

"See that you two are so alike that you can't be in the same room. That you are both so absorbed in your own problems that you never bother to worry about the other person's opinion." Bruce was sure she left a dramatic pause to drive him insane. "You began to tolerate each other again, before we lost him, but it never was the same. All you could talk about was your latest case and somehow I always ended up stuck in the middle. Alfred and Tim fared no better. We suffered because you two could never express your feelings and every time Dick ever came close to asking for forgiveness, you would always find someplace else to be."

"He shouldn't have been the one asking. I was the one who deserved his wrath; there was no one else for him to blame."

"Then you were doing exactly what he claimed you were doing, manipulating him. And worse, it wasn't for his own good, but because you were being selfish. Was the reason you wouldn't let him back really because he got too close? Because deep down you knew that if you guys forgave each other, you might be happy? And, of course, Batman couldn't show any emotions because that would take time away from his precious city and might just show he was human. Or was it because you couldn't function without brooding over your loses? What better way to remember that you couldn't save everyone than to not have been able to save your own son? Whatever the reason, you forced him away whenever he even came close to wanting to end this feud."

"He was the one who always walked out on our conversations."

"Yes, but you always knew exactly what to say to make him leave. Have you ever made an honest attempt to stop him? I bet you never once were the one who brought up the topic; you have always let Dick be the one to initiate those conversations."

"He knew the rules when he became Robin."

"Did he really? All the problems with training a child sidekick aside, did you really think Dick would've grown up idolizing you had you always been such a bastard?"

"Barbara-"

"No. I know you changed; we all changed. And he did idolize you. I might've dated him, but you were still his priority. I might not have always appreciated him while he was pursuing me, and I will take the blame for that, but even on dates he would drop everything for you. And don't try to tell me it was for duty or Gotham, that boy did all that for you."

"Barbara-"

"And help me, I would drop everything on our dates too if some manic was running around the city. I tried to tell myself it was to help daddy or the citizens, but some part of it was always to impress Batman."

"Barbara-"

"The things you and I both did to that boy - the things we did after he was gone . . . Dick would've given his life for yours, even when he was completely pissed at you. You made him your first partner, you took his life, and what did you give him in return?"

"Barbara, you are out of line. You have no right to judge me."

"I'm not judging you. And you're right, I shouldn't be yelling. But this thing was never just between the two of you, it affected everyone else: Alfred, Tim, and now Terry. I'm not mad at you Bruce; I'm mad at this self-destruct sequence in your life."

The finality of her attack ate away at Bruce. The things she said he couldn't deny, worse she mixed her sins in with his. He knew her methods, it should not have affected him. Breaking the suspect down was a simple psychological move. Whether she learned it from her father, television or watching the Batman, it didn't matter. Bruce would've laughed at the irony of the situation if he still laughed, if he ever laughed. Whether they were aware of it or not, Dick, Barbara, and Tim had all absorbed some of his traits. Somehow, it had all backfired in the end.

It would've been easy to wallow in self-blame, but he had never wanted to take the easy route. There were so many things that he needed to ask that he could never articulate, even if she was standing just two feet away. 'Did all those things learned so many years ago really hold you back in life? Did you suffer through torture filled nights of self-doubt? How did you balance your life and your duties?' He had thought he had known the answers before. He was supposed to know the answers, but he had never before questioned whether they were right. But when he was finally ready to ask he looked up to find her gone, and Terry had disappeared some time ago.

Bruce descended into a chair beside the ever-vigilant Ace, the old cliché of man's best friend not lost on the dog. Somehow the two of them had faced the world and yet only Ace seemed content with his current surroundings. Fate had bonded them together by seemingly turning against them, but they had stuck it out, loyal to each other to a fault. The sound of shuffling papers stopped momentarily. 'Have I demanded too much? Did I really believe that I could earn their loyalty by saving their lives, or is there more to receiving a person's devotion than that?'

There was no need to review the documents that he sealed in the wrinkle free, brown envelope. He knew the papers inside and out. He had managed to write them, but he didn't know if he was strong enough to give them to their proper owner. On his first night ever out as Batman, he hadn't chosen to stop a random mugging or a heist. It was all or nothing; either he could put his years of training together to stop the drug ring, or he would never make it at all. It was still a mystery how he managed to sneak past Alfred the next day to get to work. The lies he told to people about the bruises and cuts had long since faded away. His cape had been neatly pressed the next evening, ready for his rounds. That first week he must've gotten laughed at as much as he had been as a child, but things had become better. Once again, Bruce was faced with an all or nothing life situation.

"What do you think Ace? Should I risk everything again just because of some lively boy?" The envelope seemed to glow brighter than the dingy memories haunting the cave. Meeting his friend's eyes, Ace's response was absolutely right.

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Anything had to be better than listening to them argue. Terry cringed as the words assaulted his ears even as he climbed the unending staircase back to the mansion. Those two seemed a lost cause, but there was one person who might give him answers. Even if Terry could find Dick in the mansion, which was vast beyond his fancy, he wasn't sure how to relate to the boy-man. Dick was practically transplanted from a different century with different ideals and values and people; Dick's life - where he mentally was in his life - was Terry's history test.

Grateful that the clock prevented any noise from the basement, Terry turned towards the hall only to be stopped when he noticed an extra head in the painting of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Wayne. Dick had to have known Terry was watching him, yet he had not moved since Terry had come up the steps. Instead, he seemed transfixed in time along with Wayne's parents, as much of a painting as the portrait. Terry still lacked a plan. "Hey."

"Oh, so he sent you."

Terry wished he could reach for a sweater the room temperature had dropped so drastically. "No one sent me."

"That's what he wants you to think."

"Cut the crap, Grayson. You and I both know you were pushing it back there with Wayne He maybe hard to deal with at times, but he didn't deserve that."

"Don't go where you're not wanted. You have no idea what being raised by Bruce was like."

"Then tell me."

"Hn. The only sign that he even cared about me was the fact that he let me share in his deranged dream which involved me swinging through Gotham wearing a target sign. Don't tell me your father ever let you foolishly risk your life when you were ten."

"No, but since my father was killed, Wayne has been there for me and I've had to deal with what he's become since the incident when you disappeared."

"The incident? Is that what you call sending someone in a suicidal situation without warning these days? I guess I'm lucky he even remembered me."

"How clueless are you? Wayne certainly hasn't been running himself ragged for me lately."

"Oh yes, there is no better way to say 'I love you' than staying up all night to prove that someone is lying about their identity."

Dick was still facing the wall instead of Terry. The young Batman figured that he would get a better response discussing the problem with his psychology book than anyone in the house. Instead, he spun the young hero around. Terry almost pulled back when he saw Dick's dejected look. He had been expecting Wayne's set jaw and emotionless eyes, with nothing to visibly show that he cared about the situation.

"So what if Wayne didn't have the purest of motivations? Neither did you. Can you honestly say that you had everyone's best intentions in mind when you attacked Wayne like that? You claim to be Barbara's friend, and yet you stuck her in the middle of your petty argument without a second thought. You're so hung up on how you think he manipulated you a lifetime ago that you don't see that you pulled a classic Batman move on your own friend." If Terry had stopped when Dick suddenly looked like a broken ten-year-old boy who was incapable of defending himself, nothing would've been accomplished. Terry couldn't help but wonder if his words would've had the same effect if he was fighting someone in a twenty-eight year old body. Maybe all the world's problems could be solved if people once again had the ability to freely express their emotions. Then again, yelling at someone with watery blue puppy dog eyes was the hardest thing Terry had done. "You claim you never cared about Wayne, so why did you come back? When you forgot about your animosity towards Wayne, your first instinct was to turn to him for protection. You might have lost those years to talk, but you obviously would've made no progress during that time anyway. You're willing to throw this chance away because you're just afraid."

Terry didn't need Dick to tell him how much the words had stung his heart. The pain was etched on Dick's face. It was odd how he could remember all the meditations and fighting skills taught to him over the years, but not the harsh expressionless face Batman always used.

"Fine, I'm afraid." The admission seemed to drain Dick. "Is that what you wanted to hear? That I'm afraid of being rejected, of being too late, of it all being my fault for being so stupid?" Terry knelt down to Dick's level and peered into the depths of his eyes. Dick didn't seem to notice. "While back in Gotham, all I could see were the normal teens my age with their normal lives. I was envious. Sure, they had their problems, but it was obvious that their parents loved them. I knew Bruce thought of me as a son, but he just stopped showing it. Just once I wanted him to take me aside and say 'I'm proud of you. I trust you, the person you have become, with my life.' But I was still a sidekick in his eyes and he couldn't say it. He probably wanted to, but when I didn't hear it from him I started to doubt myself when I was around him. I was always just one step behind him, always the one needed saving. I didn't realize I had become just like him with his obsessive ways until I was too angry to care.

"Sharing a city we were bound to run into each other. We could work on cases together, but even then being around each other was straining. Bruce never really was a team player and he thought I had to do things on my own to prove myself. It nearly took all five years after I quit being Robin for us to even talk about my identity change, but he would always push me away in the end and I lacked the resolve to do anything but let him. It would be nice to think that that assignment was his way of apologizing, 'Gee, Dick, I trust in your abilities enough to send you on this really tough assignment all by yourself that I'm too busy to handle. When you come back victorious, which I know you will, everything will be okay again because you will have had your chance to show me up and I can stop pretending that I disowned you. Then we can be a family once more.' Of course, I could be putting words in Bruce's mouth, but it doesn't matter anyway. Somehow I managed to botch things up.

"Do you know what it's like to suffer a time warp? One minute you're out saving the world and the next your waking up in a med lab wondering what happened. And what was before was an explosion and what was after was three years on another planet, but what was between was half a lifetime and I hadn't aged a day. It's not Bruce's fault that he wasn't there, but it still hurt he couldn't find the time to tell me what happened. I was heading back to Gotham, wanting to make things right, but then I got myself captured and de-aged. Some hero, huh?"

"Hey, you must've made an impression to cause them go through all the trouble of erasing your identity in hopes of stripping you of your morals. They wanted you in that cult bad."

"Gee thanks, McGinnis."

"No problem. Listen," Terry started again, trying to draw the conversation back to their conversation. "Why haven't you told Wayne all this? He needs to hear it as much as you need to tell him."

"Because Bruce won't listen, and when he does, it doesn't come out right. We just start screeching at each other again."

"Then try again. Nothing was ever accomplished by giving up. I bet this was the first time you ever quit on anything." The wince from Dick was obvious. Terry hoped it was because the words meant something and not how pop psych 101 he sounded. Dick still shared the same views as Wayne did about life and Terry thought he could reach him. 'He's too much like Wayne for his own good,' Terry mused, unknowingly echoing everyone else who had met the two. "I know you don't want to throw away all your years of friendship over one elongated fight, but you're going to have to go back there and talk to Wayne first. I don't think he's capable of making the first move anymore."

The phone's ringing broke through the tense moment. Dick suddenly found the Wayne painting interesting again as Terry picked up. "Got anything yet?"

"You're needed. I know where they are."

"Are you sure you don't want-"

"I'm sure."

"I'm on it." He moved back towards the cave entrance, but stopped as a thought occurred. "You know, I think letting someone share in his deranged dream and letting them swinging through Gotham wearing a target sign is the only way Wayne knows how to show he cares anymore."

"Terry?" Terry turned to see the smile which first gave Robin his legend. "It wasn't always like that. It still isn't. You'll see. But thanks."

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Bruce didn't respond to Terry's distress call. Although he was in the garage portion of the cave, he could've answered it instantly. Barb hadn't checked in again, so that likely bought him more time for everything to work.

Dick would come down soon, he knew the young man couldn't stay away too long. Bruce had to finish before that happened.

He forced himself to listen to Terry describing his latest mistake, confident he was doing the right thing, but memorizing every word in case he wasn't.

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