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.
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^
My mouth hurt, but that wasn't what bothered me.
Dick was sitting in the patrol car with the man who had hit me, and he appeared to me smiling. Every time I gazed in their direction, they were talking, or at least Dick seemed to be talking.
Had Dick arrested him?
I had expected Alfred to explain what had happened and who the man and woman had been on the ride home but he barely said a word. He, like Leslie, were uncomfortable with me going into the city, saying I wasn't quite back to my old self yet. But I liked to, no, I loved it. After being cooped up in the Manor for so long, it was amazing to be able to walk the streets.
Thinking back to the restaurant, I couldn't remember saying or doing anything mean, especially to the man who had hit me. In fact, I couldn't remember even seeing him at all. Perhaps before my accident, I had done something to him, but that didn't seem right.
What could I have possibly done?
"Bruce, let's go inside, get you an ice pack for that lip."
I looked up at her and nodded, glancing to Dick's car once more before getting to my feet.
It didn't make any sense.
Upon arriving home, Alfred had left me on my own to tend to a few things in the house. I expected him to be in the kitchen when Selina and I entered the room but was surprised to see it empty. She patted one of the counter stools before heading to the refrigerator. Taking a seat, I touched my lip gently, feeling the dried blood and swollen tissue.
"Got you pretty good, didn't he?" she asked as she retrieved ice cubes, nestling them in a hand towel.
"Yeah…" I replied quietly.
As she pressed the ice pack to my face with her right hand and rested her left on the top of my shoulder, rubbing it gently. I studied her face, confused by seeing her so emotionally upset. Usually, she was always smiling, always happy. If I hadn't overreacted to her telling me I was the father, we would have been enjoying dinner and I wouldn't have been hit and…
All my fault.
I felt her fingers begin to knead my muscles and found myself tensing instead of relaxing. There were still many moments where I felt nervous around people, especially with lots of physical contact. Usually, when it was with Selina, it was easier to try and relax but for some reason, I couldn't.
She must have sensed it and quickly dropped her hand from my shoulder before removing the ice pack. Even though it had only been a few minutes, it felt much better. As she looked it over, I found myself looking into her eyes. When she stared back, I dropped my line of sight to the marble countertop.
"Bruce?" Selina asked suddenly, "You okay for now?"
Without looking up at her, I nodded.
"Well, I'm going to try and hunt down Alfred… you want to go into the study for a bit?"
Another silent nod.
Her fingers found my chin, gently raising it to force me to look at her. "Did Alfred tell you who the man is?" When I shook my head, she continued, "It's Barbara's father. Jim. He thought… since you've been spending so much time with Barbara that you were dating… when he saw us together, he thought you were cheating on her. That's why he was angry, that's why he hit you."
When I didn't respond, she added, "You didn't do anything wrong, Bruce…"
"I know… I just… why would he hit me? If he thought that?"
Biting her lip, she fought a smile before replying, "Because fathers want to protect their daughters."
I responded, "Or sons."
She leaned in and kissed my cheek, "Or sons."
^V^
Entering the Manor through the service entrance, I followed Dick through the small foyer, passed the kitchen and pantry and into the corridor, all without a word. My mind was racing with questions, but I couldn't find the will or perhaps nerve to ask them aloud. He stopped at a number of doors, pressing his ear to them before moving on to another. When he paused before a large, dark stained oak door near the rear of the house, he spoke for the first time since we had stepped out of the patrol car, and it had been to himself, "Of course."
Turning to face me, Dick continued, "He's… he's probably going to be scared of you, considering… he takes things personally… but, after we set the record straight, it should be okay."
There was an odd look in his tired eyes.
An old look, one that had no business being on a young man's face.
I nodded slightly before clearing my throat, "How… How is he? I mean, at the restaurant I only saw him walking…"
Dick smirked and looked to the door once more, "He's like a teenager. Wants his independence but isn't quite ready for it. He has a pretty solid grasp on things, just not the maturity."
"Never figured him to be mature to begin with," I countered.
Dick replied, "True… instead of fighting over him risking his life recklessly, now he wants to stay up passed ten." He knocked softly on the door and called out, "Bruce, you in here?"
I smiled when a faint reply came from within, "No."
Dick hesitated before opening the door slowly to an ocean of darkness. I had been in that particular room only once before, lost during a Wayne Foundation dinner. I had been quick to realize that it wasn't the bathroom but rather than instantly return to my search, I had hesitated. The study was as lavish as any billionaire's but it was the personal items that had caught me off guard. The oil portrait of the late Dr. and Mrs. Wayne above the fireplace, the suit coat and necktie hanging from the back of the desk chair and day's paper partially folded on the end table between two leather chairs.
A glimpse at the man behind the name and lore.
Nothing compared to the glimpse I had gotten in the backseat of a BPD patrol car…
Stepping in after Dick, I found the study to be nearly as it was all those years ago. Bruce was sitting in one of the leather chairs with his back to us, intently staring down at something in his lap.
Without looking up, he spoke, "I want to be alone."
"I know, Bruce… but we need to talk about what happened today."
"I don't want to."
Dick paused just behind the chair, looking over his shoulder at me as I came to stand behind him, "Life's full of things you don't want to do…" he paused as he resumed walking, coming around in front of the chair before kneeling , "But you have to."
I stepped up as well, trying to control my breathing as I stopped just behind the chair. In the car, I had wanted nothing but to see him, speak with him and with the opportunity before me, I was filled with uncertainty. As Dick resumed talking with Bruce, I chanced a look down to see what had him captivated.
A photo album.
Bruce turned the page, ignoring Dick's words. The pictures were of a young, black-haired boy sitting on the broad shoulders of a tall man with a dark moustache at what appeared to be Robinson Park.
Memories he had lost forever.
It was difficult to accept that he had no memory of the life he once lived. Not the lives he saved or killers he brought to justice. His allies and enemies. Our friendship.
When Dick looked up at me and sighed, Bruce tensed before looking behind him as well. Rather than flinch or show any sign of fear, he simply returned his gaze to the pictures. With my presence known, I managed to walk around, taking a seat in the chair next to him. I nearly smirked upon realizing that he kept looking over at me from the corner of his eyes, thinking he hadn't lost his reliance on peripheral vision.
Finding my voice once more, I said, "What I did was wrong. But a father will do anything to protect his children, often acting before thinking. I thought that you… I don't know what I thought."
Bruce smiled slightly, "I don't know what I think half the time, either." He turned the page and I looked over to see the day in the park and given way to Halloween. A boy in a skeleton costume stood in front of a man dressed as Zorro who had his arm around a woman dressed as an Egyptian princess. I squinted and made out feminine cursive: Brucie's First Halloween Ball, age six!
"Bruce, I am so sorry…" my voice came out strained and pathetic.
He closed the book slowly, gently tracing the edges of the leather binding, "You're right… fathers protect their children," pausing to look up at me, "No matter what."
When my eyes caught the look on Dick's face, I thought to myself, And children protect their fathers… no matter what.
^V^
After Cass kicked me in the side of the head, I recovered, ducked and lunged at her midsection.
Fruitless, considering she knew what my move was going to be before I had.
Not up to spending the afternoon in the Cave by myself, I had made the trek into the city after lying to my father and telling him I was going to a lecture on how to prepare for college. Instead, I had jogged Robinson Park, treated myself to a lime Sno-cone from a vender near the playground and then had proceeded to the Clocktower.
A nice, friendly spar with the daughter and star pupil of one of the world's greatest assassins.
Yeah… something like that.
As Cass wiped the training mats with my face for the better part of an hour, I did my best to focus on the physical challenge of it in order to drown out my thoughts. After nearly four months, I had reasoned that I should have accepted how things had changed in the Family. Dick was no longer Nightwing, he was Batman and with that came the expected changes on our nightly routines. No more Punch Buggy game, no more el-train tag and the comm. link was for business, not That's What She Said jokes.
We had to grow up sometime.
I just wasn't ready.
Deep down, I had come to realize that it wasn't Dick's new role that was bothering me.
It had been Bruce's.
At first, I had been able to go up to the Manor and spend time with him, helping with his rehabilitation. For some reason, towards the beginning of July, I found that the thought of being there with him had begun to feel like being with a stranger. As much as I had missed the juvenile antics Dick and I had once shared, I longed for the stern looks and low growls of my former mentor even more.
Alfred tried to corral us up each week for dinner but I had intentionally missed four out of the last seven.
Seeing the soft smile on Bruce's face and the scar on his forehead nearly brought tears to my eyes.
Retreating a step for every one of her vicious jabs, I smirked while preparing to block the impending roundhouse I expected Cass to throw. Naturally, she had realized my assumption and spiced things up with an uppercut sending me spinning face first into the matted wall.
"Can't assume," she sighed, "Ass. You. Me."
"Yeah, I got it," I replied while rubbing the hot pink flesh of my right cheek.
"No, you don't," she countered, crossing her arms over her chest. We had been at it for an hour and she hadn't even broken a sweat. After she appraised my condition, she offered, "Take five?"
"Advil," I joked. Cass's left eyebrow rose in confusion and I shook my head, "Never mind."
She rolled her eyes, a trait she had notably picked up from living with Barbara and proceeded to exit the training room and head towards the main apartment. I nabbed a towel off of a shelving unit and wiped myself down before following her. By the time I caught up, she was already in the kitchen, uncapping a liter bottle of spring water. After perusing the refrigerator, I settled for a more manageable half-liter.
Before I could ask Cass what she had done that day, aside from kicking my ass, Barbara entered the open archway, shaking her head.
"What's up?"
A smile crossed her lips momentarily before she answered, "My father saw Bruce and Selina having a late lunch… saw them holding hands… I guess he was under the assumption that he had been dating me since we've been together so much…" she finally let a laugh loose, "Dick said he walked right over to them and punched Bruce in the face."
I looked over to Cass as she said, "Assume. Ass. You. Me."
"What did Selina do?" I was quick to ask.
She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, "Thankfully she kept her cool, Alfred had been on the way to pick them up so he took Bruce while she stayed to help sort things over once Dick got there."
"They called Dick?"
Barbara continued, "He was doing a prisoner transfer, ended up cutting short on his shift to take Selina and my dad up to the Manor to talk. Dick said Selina rode shotgun, made my dad sit in the back."
That brought a smile to my lips.
"On a more serious note," she tried to contain her grin, "Dick decided that it would be best, for us and for my father if he knew why Bruce didn't recognize him at the restaurant and why he's been with me so much."
Cass spoke softly, "Truth."
As Barbara nodded, I set my water down, "Wait, Dick told him the truth?"
"Not all of it… he only told Dad about him and Bruce… but with two pieces of the puzzle, he's more than capable of filling in the blanks."
I felt insulted and was quick to voice it, "How could he do that, without asking us? It's our lives, not just his---."
Barbara cut me off, her tone severe enough to send a chill down my spine, "If anyone deserves to be told the truth, it's my father. He's been fighting this war since before you were born, I advise you not to forget that." When I remained in silent shock, she relaxed and added, "I'm sorry, Tim… it's for the best. And besides, he is the closest thing to a best friend that Bruce ever had… it wasn't right for us to lie to him."
She said something about Dick being by in a few hours before excusing herself.
Alone, I looked to Cass, wondering how she felt about the latest addition to the Family.
Just as she read my body language, she appeared to be able to read my mind. After emptying her water bottle, she said, "It's okay. Commissioner good man. Batman respect him. Trust him. We all should."
It was the truth. Batman respected and trusted him.
The both of them.
^V^
At ten after five, the Bludhaven police car pulled out of the drive of Wayne Manor.
Within it was Dick and Gordon, making the trek back to Gotham after spending a nearly an hour in the study talking with Bruce. After I had found Alfred tending to duties in the laundry room, I had returned to the study only to find that it was more than occupied. Not wanting to interrupt the male bonding, I opted on retreating to the seclusion of the third floor.
More specifically, Bruce's bedroom.
Since he had been shot, I had been in the room nearly two dozen times, namely only to open the door and look inside for Bruce. Seeing how I had some time to myself, I had allowed myself a quick stroll down memory lane. Breakfast on the terrace, sharing baths in the massive tub, trying to outdo one another in his bed… Given that the past was long over, I had come to realize that I was in a life with the present man. Sometimes, my subconscious forgot about it and had me trying to reconnect with someone who wasn't there.
Like in the kitchen, massaging his tense shoulders as I had done a thousand times before. Past Bruce would have fought to contain moans and sighs of relief while Present Bruce had been visibly uncomfortable.
It was the little things that seemed to cause so much pain.
Finding myself getting worked up in his room, I left it for the sitting room across the hall. My belongings that had accumulated prior to the shooting had been moved there for safe keeping. The last thing Bruce needed an explanation for was why there was women's underwear in his dresser drawer.
I decided to change into casual attire given that the remainder of the evening was to be spent indoors and in the confines of Wayne Manor. No doubt it would be some time before I was able to kidnap Bruce away for another outing…
After meditating, stretching exercises and a brief catnap on a chaise, I heard a soft rap on the door. If I hadn't been four months pregnant, I would have been polite and risen to my feet to answer the door. Instead, I cordially called out, "Who dares disturb my slumber?"
Dick's head snuck into the partially ajar door, "It is I… Aladdin."
After nodding in approval, I watched him step into the room and walk over to me. Pausing at the head of the chaise, he resumed, "We patched everything up… Bruce seems to be okay with what happened… although Bruce asked me how he made you pregnant, so thanks for that."
I smirked before inquiring, "Did you tell him?"
Dick sighed, "No… I think today has been eventful enough… and I think you should tell him."
I glared at him.
He cleared his throat, "I'll tell him tomorrow. After breakfast."
After telling me that Alfred was preparing dinner and that he was heading out the commissioner, I asked, "Where's Bruce?"
"Changing… I won't be back up tonight, so if you need a ride home, I'm sure Alfred can---."
I cut him off as I rose to my feet, "I think I'll just stay here tonight… little sleepiover to make up for today."
Before leaving he commented, "You do realize Alfred will make you sleep in separate rooms."
I countered with, "Who said anything about sleeping?"
Dick snickered to himself as he stepped into hall.
I waited for Bruce outside of his bedroom door, startling him when he opened it. He had traded the suit for jeans and a dark blue fitted polo, the casual look that he had taken to in recent months. To appease him, I smiled warmly and asked, "Care to take a girl to dinner? I hear Chef Alfred has something divine on the menu."
Bruce smirked nervously before nodding, "My pleasure."
As we walked towards the stairs, I instinctively reached out and took hi hand into mine. Rather than recoil, he squeezed my fingers gently.
It was the little things that seemed to cause so much joy.
We arrived at the dining room to see two places set next to each other with a white candle flickering softly on the table. Rich aromas wafted off of the steaming plates of stuffed manicotti, heightened by tweaks of garlic and parmigiano-reggiano.
I had expected Bruce to be tense through dinner given what he had endured in the last few hours. Instead he was inquisitive about the baby and if that had been why I had been under the weather last month. A detective to his core.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" he asked with a spot of arrabiatta sauce on his lip.
Drowning the urge to lick it off, I simply pointed it out for him and answered as he wiped it with a napkin, "I don't know… I want it to be a surprise."
He smirked before replying, "I like surprises."
After dinner, we decided to ignore Alfred's rule of not being in the kitchen without him in order to clean up after ourselves. Given that we were two somewhat capable adults, I had no doubts that we would be able to wash, dry and put dishes away without bringing any ahrm upon Alfred's sanctuary.
I barely washed a spoon before things turned ugly.
Who knew that the scrub sponge was too rough for the ceramic and that it would scratch it slightly?
And it was Bruce who bent the spoon to show how strong he was.
And he was the one who started the soap fight.
… and I was the one who finished it.
^V^