Title: Time Will Tell

Author: DC Luder

Summary: After a tragic injury, Bruce must make the long road to recovery with the help of family and friends. Done in a rotating Point Of View style.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: This chapter has been modified to make it more awesome-er.

^V^

"Can you see the fireworks from up here?" Bruce asked suddenly.

Through a miraculous twist of fate, I had managed to get the fourth of July off in order to spend it with Bruce. After a hearty lunch of Cobb salad pitas, we had gone outside to sit on the terrace to read. The baking sun, chirping of merry birds and sheer exhaustion had left me dozing off while laying in a chaise. In the last two weeks, I had only been up to the Manor every other day, my hectic lifestyle over the last few months starting to creep into my time with Bruce. Thankfully, where I had been lagging, Barbara and Selina had stepped up.

I had been Batman for barely a season. How the hell Bruce had ever managed to balance both his lives for so many years was beyond me.

While I had been sleeping, Bruce had walked off of the terrace and taken a seat in the grass, book in hand. As I opened my eyes at his question, it had taken a minute to find him. Regaining his basic life skills, he had started to vie for independence, something neither Alfred nor myself were ready to grant him.

He was walking. Reading. Dressing himself… he was a six foot tall third grader.

After yawning and wiping my face of accumulated sweat, I replied, "Sure. You want to watch them?"

He pondered for a moment as he looked to the bright blue sky, "Yeah. Barbara said they were great in the city... But you could see them even better from up here."

Sitting up, I thought back to countless Independence Days at Wayne Manor, the best ones had included sitting out on the rooftop with Bruce and watching Gotham come alive with color.

"Yeah, there's a great view from the top of the house…"

"The roof?"

I nodded, getting to my feet before crossing the stone floor and joining him in the grass, "But I think Alfred wanted to set up some chairs on the front terrace… little bit safer than the roof."

"Yeah," Bruce smirked before opening and closing the hard cover book in his hands. I had been reading The BFG by Roald Dahl with him off and on throughout the day but when we had gone outside, he said he wanted to try to read by himself.

At first, it had been difficult to be with him, given how much he had changed. The body was the same, tall, broad and strong, but his entire demeanor had been altered. After weeks had passed, we all had grown accustomed to seeing a smile on his face or seeing him curled up on the couch watching a movie. He wasn't that man who raised or trained me. He was a new person. And as much as I hated to admit it, I almost liked him better this way.

Almost.

"Dick?" he asked as he reclined back onto the grass.

"Yes, Bruce?"

He paused and suddenly sat up, a feat that was near impossible a month ago, "Do you think, maybe, Selina can come up?"

I had erred in telling Selina that Bruce had died, and anytime I saw her with Bruce I was reminded of it. Since she had been told the truth, she had been nothing but a wealth of support and love for him, not much different from before he had been shot. She had taken a big interest in not only his mental occupational rehabilitation but his physical as well. His first steps had been under her watch, when he had gotten up to get her a blanket while they watched a movie in the den.

Selina had said it was the most romantic thing he had ever done for her.

Aside from siring her child.

It was still a challenge to comprehend that Bruce and Selina had separated just as their relationship was taking a major turn. As curious as I was to know what would have happened had Bruce not been gunned down, I knew that asking her and her fluctuating hormones would have been lethal. Knowing Bruce, he would have done the right thing, helped her raise the child to whatever extent Selina wanted.

At three months pregnant, Bruce realistically had six months to get back to a reasonable adult level of mind in order to welcome his son or daughter to the world. Leslie and Alfred had decided, along with Selina, that it was best not to tell him yet seeing how he was still unable to comprehend that complicated of a situation. That and I knew that neither one of us were ready to talk about where babies came from…

Seeing him smile, face red from sitting out in the sun, I was thankful that he was enjoying himself. The last two weeks had been upsetting for him, his sleep plagued with confusing dreams and nightmares, rooted in memories he didn't know.

The dreams had started when he finally got his answer about who his parents had been.

Being able to follow movies, television and stories, Bruce had come to realize that every person had a mother and a father. One night, while Alfred had tucked him in, Bruce had asked if Alfred was his father. Upon getting the vague explanation that Alfred had helped raise Bruce but was in fact not his father, Bruce had been disheartened. The next day, Alfred, Leslie and I had carefully explained the minimal details regarding his parents.

Thankfully, he hadn't cried or yelled, but had just absorbed all of the sadness within him and nodded. One of his traits that he hadn't lost.

I sat up and glanced at my watch, twelve to three, "Well, you ready to go in?"

He looked at me with his brow furrowed, "I haven't read my book yet."

I sighed and stood, "You have all night. The fireworks won't start until after dusk anyway."

Bruce nodded and rose as well, holding his book tightly to his thigh with his good arm.

I folded the blanket and then lead the way into the house in silence. I let him go first into the service entrance of the kitchen and shut the door behind us. A small silver pot steamed on the stove and I could smell melting chocolate.

Of course, I smiled, Fourth of July. Alfred's brownies. I suddenly thought back once more to those hot July evenings, watching the lights explode in the sky with a plate full of warm brownies and a tall glass of root beer, one scoop of vanilla ice cream for each. Nights where Bruce was unable to join the festivities, I had to settle for sitting on the terrace with Alfred.

Needles to say, I had spent more nights on the terrace as opposed to the roof.

Since I had yet to work-out and catch up on some investigatory reading on Gotham's newest drug ring, I had to spend the remainder of the afternoon in the Cave. Making sure Bruce was set up in the den with books, paper and pencils and a TV remote, I told him I had some errands to run.

"Can I come?"

"No... sorry, but… I'll call Selina to ask her up… and I know Barbara and Cass planned on dropping by, maybe Tim, too."

He nodded before sitting on the couch, still holding the book.

"And we'll get in another chapter when I get back, oaky?"

He reluctantly replied, "Okay."

I met with Alfred as I headed to the study, updating him on were Bruce was in the great house. He set a hand on my shoulder before saying, "Thank you, sir… Your time means the world to him."

Another change in him that I loved.

^V^

Wow.

It was unbelievable. All of the colors literally exploding from out of nowhere.

Red, gold, white and blue. Loud ones and quiet ones. A few that whistled and crackled. Big spheres and small stars.

It was great… Except Dick wasn't there.

While Alfred and I had sat on the terrace, Dick had yet to return from his errands, nor had he called to say where he was. Alfred suggested that he had been called away to work but would most likely do his best to be back before I went to bed. I hated it when he had to work, but it was his responsibility. Hopefully, I had never left him behind to work.

I don't think I could look at myself in the mirror if I had.

If that hadn't been enough, Barbara and Cassandra had stayed in the city, Tim was at a friend's house and Selina was ill. It was nice to be with Alfred but it was also nice to see everyone else.

"They should do them more often," I said as I stood from my chair.

Dick's voice suddenly replied, "They do. Wait until New Year's Eve. Not only do they have fireworks, they let you drink champagne and kiss people you don't know."

I glanced around to see him standing in the open doorway, suddenly wondering how long he had been standing there. I smiled a bit, "What about people you know?"

Alfred gasped and Dick laughed. I hadn't meant for it to be funny, but sometimes things came out and those around me laughed.

Dick stepped forward and selected a brownie from the serving tray, "Sorry I missed it… Managed to sneak away for a little bit but I do have to go back to work."

With one last look skyward, we all moved towards the house. I had to wash up and change for bed but seeing how Dick was there, I hoped that I was able to stay up for a bit longer. My hopes were crushed when instead of heading downstairs, Alfred had announced he was going to ready my bath. Looking to Dick, he nodded, "It's all right, I have tomorrow off too… maybe we can go for a ride on the golf cart."

As much fun as going around the property in the cart was, I wasn't ready for the night to be over. "I'm not tired," I stated.

Dick put a hand gently on my elbow, turning me to my room, "Come on, you get cleaned up and changed, then we can read that chapter."

I bathed in record time, not even washing my hair. Before last week, someone had always helped me wash but I was ready to do it by myself. I had even showered on my own a few times. Barely dry, I donned fresh pajamas and walked into my bedroom to find Dick sitting on the bed, his lower lip trembling.

"Dick?"

He wiped at his eyes and looked away before asking, "You brush your teeth?"

"No... I… You okay?"

He grinned up at me before pointing back to the bathroom, "I will be when your teeth are brushed."

We read two chapters, although he mostly read and only had me read aloud some of the shorter sentences. He promised to come home after work so that we would be able to have breakfast before spending the entire day together.

"No work, I promise."

As Dick left, Alfred stepped into the room carrying my medicine and water. After he handed me two blue pills, Aleve he called them, I took them with the glass of water in his other hand. After giving him the empty glass, he pulled the covers up over me while I asked, "Alfred, do you think Dick is… sad?"

"Sir?" he asked, looking confused.

"Sad… about me.. Like, he doesn't like how I am. Now."

"That he is embarrassed of you, sir?" he offered. When I nodded, he explained, "Certainly not. Master Dick is very proud of your accomplishments thus far, as we all are."

"So he likes me?"

"He loves you, sir."

I nodded and smiled, "I love him, too," I paused, "He's good… not a kid, but a big kid."

"That he is, sir. You raised him very well."

I sighed. Rarely did anyone talk about my past in front of me but I enjoyed it when they did since I wanted to learn more about myself. Like telling me something important as they had about my parents. I ached for them, after learning the truth but they had died so long ago… and I would never remember them.

Only in my dreams were they alive, but I wasn't even sure when my dreams were real or not.

Maybe my mind was just playing with me.

Tricking me.

Torturing me.

But there have been better things about who I used to be that they had told me. About Dick being my son, adopted, but still my son. About how Tim had grown up next door to me and Barbara was such a close friend of mine. Also, about how Alfred had raised me, so now he was like my father.

And perhaps most of all, how Selina and I were "very close friends."

She visited often and we played games or went for walks when it was nice in the evenings and if not, we watched movies together. Sometimes when she was watching the screen, I liked to watch her. Her smile. Her eyes.

Dick walked in on us once and laughed. Selina had thrown a pillow at him.

My savior.

^V^

"Dad, it's just me. Just calling to let you know that I'm going to be out and about until tomorrow afternoon or so. Maybe we can catch an early dinner? My treat. Anyway, call my cell phone if you need me. Love you, bye," the answering machine played Barbara's voice.

I had been feeding off of her energy, my own unusually sapped in the last two months. Then again, it wasn't unusual to mourn the loss of your best friend, I supposed.

If it hadn't been for Barbara I would have had my own cozy room in between the Riddler and Poison Ivy. It had been difficult, knowing the man I called forward at night was his replacement, even if it was his… son. I had hoped there would be a funeral of some sort, a private one at least, in order to pay my respects. Lord knew how many colleagues and acquaintances he had that never got to say good-bye.

But not a word had been mentioned about him after that horrible May night in my office.

In the two months since he had taken up the mantle, the city had once more fallen under his control, the rampage in the days following the Pasqualle incident diluted through sheer force.

Pressing delete on the answering machine, I sat on my sofa. Tenth of July, a Saturday. The message had been left when I had been out grabbing breakfast at the bakery down the block.

Maybe that Grayson boy had swept my innocent daughter off of her feet once more. Wouldn't have been the first time and deep down I sure hoped it wouldn't be the last.

For years that had been in and out of a relationship. Whenever I had seen them together, they had showed nothing but true love for one another. Despite his tragic past, Dick Grayson had managed to grow into a sensible, charismatic good-natured young man. And if it couldn't have gotten any better, he was a well-respected young officer on the Bludhaven police force. My status had allowed me to make unofficial inquiries into his efforts and I had hear nothing but stellar reports.

He had been raised by a good man, a man I hadn't seen all summer.

The last I had heard was he was still touring the globe in his yacht, a trek he had started in the beginning of June. Where Dick had all of his guardian's best traits, thankfully, he hadn't taken on the worst ones. I had a fairly good relationship with Wayne, but that was in spite of his womanizing, alcoholic and money flaunting ways. Sure, some of it was to maintain the standard and the public's perceptions of how a handsome billionaire was supposed to act but it didn't make it any easier to accept.

I stood suddenly, speaking aloud to no one, "Have to water her plants."

Grabbing my keys, I raced out to the car, happy to have something to do on my day off and, more specifically, anything to keep me from ending back at headquarters. Even though it was eight in the morning, traffic was heavy in Tri-Corner, making the three mile drive nearly twenty minutes. I cut off a woman in a mini-van for a parking spot right in front of the Clocktower.

In my older years, I had lost the ability to distinguish the importance of things. At home, I had a sink full of dishes, a shaggy lawn and a leaky showerhead.

But as God as my witness, I wasn't about to rest before making sure my Barbara's plants were adequately watered.

The elevator ride took two silent minutes, giving me ample time to prepare my keys for her apartment door. Barbara had three locks on the door and once it was opened you had fifteen seconds to enter a ten digit number on the security panel within. Typical for a single woman living in a very busy part of the city.

Typical for any person who had been gunned down by the Joker.

Her apartment was dark and silent but still yielded a warm, welcoming feel. After a quick tour of the open rooms, I found a glass in the kitchen and filled it with tepid water. With potted and hanging plants in the den, guest bathroom and her bedroom tended to, I found the second hand on my watch had barely made three complete rotations. The kitchen was spotless, garbage and recyclables already taken out, not even a single bit of dust on the hard wood floors. Washer and dryer were both empty as was the dishwasher…

Complete opposite of my humble abode.

"Hmmm…" I sighed to myself as I found myself with nothing to do or fret over.

Accepting defeat, I began making my way to the door, reaching the atrium just as the phone rang. Back tracking to the den, I nearly picked it up before realizing it wasn't my place to do so. She was an adult. I had to respect her privacy.

So I simply listened as the answering machine picked up in a non-descript computerized voice, "Please leave a message after the tone."

BEEP

I wasn't sure who I had expected to be calling her at that hour, but the voice that left the message stopped me in my tracks, "Barbara, it's just me… Must have missed you… Alfred has breakfast ready… and I convinced him to have it in the pool room… so should be fun… see you soon."

Could it be that my Barbara was no longer involved with the Grayson boy, but rather the man that had raised him? I had seen Barbara interact with Bruce socially a number of times and had seen no inclination of anything more than general amicability.

If she had left to spend the day with him, that meant he was done flaunting his wealth about the globe. Back in Gotham, back to his old ways…

I had a sudden urge to take my morning out of the city and into Bristol, my mind reaching back to when I had first visited Wayne Manor. My first wife, heavy with my firstborn son, had accompanied me to have a brief questioning with Bruce in his lavish estate. I would have rather had him taken into the station to work him over abut possibly being the Batman but my supervisors had forbid it.

He had been drunk, wearing only a loosely tied robe, and spent most of the interview fighting off the advances of a stunning young woman who he didn't even know the name of.

… I don't want to waste your time, Mr. Wayne…

… My time is worthless, Lieutenant, Just ask Alfred…

He had been right all those years ago… even today he wasn't worthy of my Barbara.

^V^

As I tended to my afternoon chores and duties, I listened as laughter faintly echoed the dark halls of the Manor.

Only in snatches of history had similar sounds been present. Master Bruce as a toddler and well into his early years, running about in his father's hat or hiding in the draperies of his mother's dressing room. As he had aged, his boldness had been insurmountable, taking his antics to the outdoors by climbing the ancient trees on the property, his mother always fretting about such behavior but his father would always laugh.

Then there had been no more laughter, no more joy… nothing.

Master Dick's childhood had brought a much needed lightness into the old house but the years had passed far too quickly before the young boy had become a young man. Master Jason's brief time with us had yielded far more shouts than laughs. After his passing, I had feared that Master Bruce would never find joy in life, condemning himself as a failure, with comparable self-hatred and punishment.

Thankfully, Master Bruce and the rest of us had been proven wrong by the inquisitive and self-assured boy next door. Master Timothy had brought a new life to the Manor, just before his mentor had to endure a number of life altering changes: Bane, the Plague, the Quake… enemies of different shapes and sizes. Despite the tragedies endured, their had been a noticeable change in Master Bruce, perhaps the very change that had led him to seek the company of Ms. Selina once more.

Although it had been many, many years since Master Bruce had uttered a laugh, he had seemed content in the joy of others.

Even in spite of the reason behind it, hearing his audible joy after such a long time had been shocking to others, but a pleasantry to my old ears.

The joy of a father's knowing his son was happy. A son, not by having my blood course his veins, but for having his blood stained upon my fingers more than I would have cared for.

"Al?"

I was taking inventory of the pantry, a weekly task performed every Saturday in order to prepare for Sunday morning shopping. Without looking up from my growing grocery list, I had acknowledge, "Yes, Master Dick?"

"Bruce is asleep in the den, I'm going to run downstairs for a bit."

A bit. A time appraisal I had heard hundreds of times before.

Although the gallant return of the Batman had brought a necessary level of order to the city's chaotic nightlife, his vigilantism was not without challenge. For the last two weeks they had endured no progress in their search for the self-proclaimed new ruler of the underworld, one Anton Bauer. He had absorbed the territory left behind by Henri Pasqualle, doubling his own drug trafficking reach. Although unlike Pasqualle, he had been able to cover his tracks, offering nothing to the police or caped crusaders.

Master Dick was growing restless on the lack of progress on his first major case as the Batman, forcing me to remind him incessantly that he would bring those that dare challenge him to justice.

"Very good, sir… and Ms. Barbara?"

"Also conked out. Guess neither one of them were in the Last Crusade mood…" When I finally turned to face him, I was pleased to see a smirk on his face, "I'll be back up for dinner, Al."

Alone, I completed my task, placing the list in my jacket pocket as it hung from the coat rack near the service entrance. It was still far too early to start dinner preparations, incidentally leaving me a moment to myself. After preparing myself a fresh cup of tea, I resigned to the kitchen nook that overlooked the side yard. Its level, perfectly manicured lawn had become a haven of sorts for Master Bruce, from reading outdoors to staring up at starlit skies.

"Alfred?" a soft voice asked. I looked towards the doorway to see Ms. Barbara smiling, a faint fog of slumber still in her eyes. She made her way to table and continued, "He's moving along so quickly."

I nodded, "Indeed he is. When he is in the library, hunched over his books at the desk... It is rather difficult to see that anything has changed at all."

"I know," she bit her lip and I looked away, my own emotions churning in silence.

When she made no further attempt to speak, I inquired, "Miss Gordon, is something amiss?"

Taking a moment to push back a strand of loose auburn hair, she answered, "Alfred, he asked me why I was in a wheelchair." My silence urged her on, "I told him someone had hurt me, someone bad… I obviously didn't give him the whole story but… the look in his eyes… I had expected him to be sad or worried… Alfred, he looked angry. He wanted to know if that person was caught and even though I told him he was… he was still… he was so… Bruce."

"It seems logical enough, Ms. Barbara… he can no longer contain emotions he once held beneath he surface, especially those concerning the ones he cares for," I paused to adjust the tea cup on its saucer. I was tempted to inform her of my bedtime chat with Master Bruce the night of July fourth, hearing such affection in his voice and words for his eldest. Something I had also been waiting to hear for some time.

Before she could reply, Master Bruce appeared at the door, his shirt twisted about his form and the back of his head displayed hair that stood nearly vertical. He rubbed his left eye with the back of his hand. When I glanced down at his feet, I smiled to find that one of his socks had been absent..

I chuckled despite myself, for it had been thirty odd years since I had seen in him in such disarray. Ms. Barbara joined in, laughing softly before adding, "Good morning sleepy head. Like the hair… very styling."

He offered a broad smile, running hands through his graying hair, making it even more chaotic, "Better?"

"Couldn't get any worse," Ms. Barbara had countered, reaching scorss the table to squeeze my hand.

^V^