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 form its original version to make it more awesome-er.
^V^
Somehow, it was the first of November.
Somehow, Bruce Wayne was back in the corporate world.
Somehow, a woman was living next door for the first time since Martha Wayne.
And yet, Dick still wore the guise of Batman, Bruce had yet to remember anything outside of the little inconsequential sparks and I was still doing my damndest to avoid him.
Some Robin I was…
Barbara says we had to admire his overcoming so many obstacles in such a short time. Of course I had, it was a miracle that he had gone from a vegetative state to a completely functioning adult human being in less than five months. No doubt it was his innate, self-driven personality that had steered such a fast course. But the problem remained that he was acting like a regular adult.
Not the fop by any means, as the smiles that graced his face were genuine, but some other person that had taken up residence in my former mentor's body.
Regular adults weren't able to send a group of assailants running home to their mother's with a single look. They wouldn't know how to calculate a free jump off of Wayne Tower or the best way to take down six to ten assailants with the least amount of energy exerted. Or how to track down international megalomaniacs or translating the most subtle of clues such as chair out of place or a door that was ajar.
I had spent nearly as much time at Bruce's side as Dick and Barbara, who have been under his wing for over a decade, but I had idolized Batman for just as long. He was the world's greatest detective and in a way the world's greatest hero given all that he had faced and survived without the luxury of superhuman powers or abilities. He was a mortal man with a promise he intended on keeping until his dying breath.
To avenge the deaths of his mother and father.
He wasn't my father, not like he was to Dick.
I still had mine.
And yet Dick, and even Barbara, Alfred, Selina and Leslie were happy to see him in such a state, so deflated from the man he once was.
That, above all else, kept me from wanting to go to Wayne Manor. It wasn't that I hated who he had become, it was that I hated myself for thinking of him the way I had. Thinking he was less of a man when in fact he was more than I ever would be.
Again, some Robin I was…
"Bird boy, you out there?" Oracle's voice chimed over the comm. link.
"For the most part," I cleared my throat as I shook my head, clearing away bad thoughts, "What's up?"
I heard a smile in her voice, "I need a guinea pig."
Deciding to drop my dismal attitude, I asked, "For what? New bean casserole recipe?"
"Very funny. Tall, dark and gloomy broke in last night and I decided to spruce up the countermeasures a bit."
"And you want me to try them out for you. I must be loved…"
"There's a Klondike bar in it for you."
"If I live."
"Well, naturally."
After ten minutes of grappling lines and acrobatics, I landed silently on the fire escape that crawled up the back of the Clocktower. Taking two steps at a time, I went up three floors before knocking on a darkened bedroom door. The plan was to actually talk to Barbara before risking life and limb. That and to sneak into the kitchen for my reward.
I tapped three short times, and finally the dark-haired face of Cassandra appeared, "Get lost?"
"Funny, let me in, it's cold."
Shutting the window behind me, I proceeded to double-checked the lock before turning to face Cassandra. It wasn't until then that I realized I had knocked on Cassandra's bedroom, which had been the former guest room a week earlier. When I looked at her, she shrugged, "Wanted bigger room. To Tai Chi."
I wanted a bigger room so I could have a couch and entertainment area.
It was odd to see her in a domestic setting while wearing her suit, the full cowl pulled back to hang between her shoulders. When she turned to lead the way to Oracle, her cape flowed behind her, the material slightly lighter than the one I wore. Bruce had altered it for her, giving her less resistance when she made her way through foes at lightning speed.
As we walked, I asked, "So, what are you doing here?"
"Try out security. For Oracle."
"How was it?"
She looked at me over her shoulder before replying, "Not bad. Made it through okay."
Of course she had.
After hesitating outside the secret entrance, invisible to the naked eye along a corridor wall. The pressure sensors on the hardwood floor had sent a message into Barbara that we had arrived and no doubt after checking a hidden camera, she had let us enter. Not as stylish as the grandfather clock in Wayne Manor, but distinctly impressive as the wall split, intussuscepting into itself.
Made me feel like a Jedi every time.
"Robin, how nice of you to make it. We were thinking some old lady hit you with her purse or something…" Barbara joked as she sat up right in her chair, turning to face me.
I had stopped a mugging on Halloween, saving an elderly woman from a masked moron. She had lost her glasses in the scuffle and when I had returned them to her, she had promptly beat me over the head with her cane, thinking I had been the one to assault her.
Not one of my greater moments.
Later that night, when I had checked in with Batman, he had smirked briefly before acknowledging my efforts. Had he been Nightwing, he would have laughed himself silly when he found out. Oracle had apparently been listening in to our conversation and had been quick to recount when a much younger Dick Grayson had "squeaked while talking to the commissioner."
Maybe I was some Robin, after all.
^V^
After sending Cass back to the streets, I had Tim make his way back outside so that he could then attempt to break in through the lower floors of the building. I had in fact updated security parameters and modified countermeasures with Dick's help over the last few weeks but the changes had already been tested thoroughly.
And it wasn't that I wanted to torture Tim for no reason.
Dick had asked me to.
As the young man made his way through air ducts, empty corridors and through floorboards, I was impressed that he was able to do so without setting off any of the tasers, tear gas ducts or the epoxy sprayers. In fact, he made it back to the monitoring chamber having only set of three out of dozens of motion sensors.
As he passed into the room for the second time that night, Robin sighed, "Whew, much rather play James Bond on Playstation, not real life… and were those flame throwers on the tenth floor?"
I nodded, my eyes never leaving the monitors, "Only enough heat to singe off every hair on your body."
"Only…" he remarked, "Thanks, but I just got my hair---."
When his words failed him, I turned around to face him, suddenly realizing why he had stopped mid-sentence.
"What's everyone staring at? Did I forget to zip my fly?" Nightwing asked as he finished passing through the window. He paused beside his younger ally, setting a hand on his shoulder, "Breathe, kid."
Robin let out air and asked, "What's going on?"
"What, guy can't wear something fancy on a Friday night?"
Something was going on. Why had he donned the old suit? He had worn the guise of Batman all of this time since Bruce had been shot, it made no sense to simply pull out the long neglected black and blue tights. He looked to me as he let go of Robin and had I not looked for it, I would have missed the microsecond of a wink form his eye.
Something was seriously going on.
"Where's Batgirl?" Nightwing asked. When I checked the radar and reported she was touring Robinson Park, he nodded, "Why don't you check out Coventry, I haven't been through there yet tonight?"
Robin looked to me, back to the oddly garbed man before us and then nodded, "Uh, sure…"
Once we were alone, Dick removed the domino mask on his face and walked over, a smile I hadn't seen in months forming on his lips. "So, Babs, how have you been?"
"Since I talked to you two hours ago?"
"Yeah," he replied. I watched as he sat on a stack of printouts, instantly squishing them and wrinkling the fresh paper. After a prompt swat at his rear, he jumped up, "Sorry."
"… All night you've been growling at me in… that voice…"
"Affirmative," Dick nodded as he took to simply leaning against the edge of my work station counter
"… and have you been dressed like this all night?"
"Well, not all night, I was wearing a disguise to get some leads at that shady tavern in the Village---."
I cut him off, "What is going on?"
"What do you mean?" he questioned with a smug look.
"Um, let's start with the obvious," I replied as I tugged at his glove.
After offering a shrug, he followed it up with an explanation, "Alfred's fixing the other one. Little scratch from last night."
"You said you were fine," I countered, although it sounded more like an accusation. He had radioed in to me the night before that he was going to take a few minutes to have Leslie stitch something up and that he was "fine". After a late night call to the Free Clinic, I had discovered that Dick had been clipped by a stray bullet, in addition to a few assorted bumps and bruises. To be fair, I had offered sidekicks as back-ups when he attempted to subdue a band enforcers for one of Gotham's seedy drug dealers.
He had abruptly growled a decline.
Served him right.
Dick looked to his right arm and touched the bicep tenderly, "It's not bad… fourteen stitches… good thing I'm uber muscle-y… barely put a dent in me."
I nodded in false empathy, "You do realize you have extra suits, right?"
"I know. But driving all the way to the Manor would mean going there and not seeing Bruce and I didn't want to wake him… Besides, I miss the old black and blue."
"So you're just too lazy and/or sentimental to just wear an extra?" I asked.
"You know me so well…"
I laughed at his quirky face, "Dick, when are you ever going to grow up?"
He laughed as well, falling silent for a moment as he watched me resume my work at the keyboards. Then, "Babs, what do you think about the baby?"
Without hesitation, I replied, "Well, I'm happy for them… I mean I know it's something that would have been far more complicated had he not been… but… It's good for both of them..." I hesitated before looking up at him, "For all of us."
"Maybe I should have a baby, so I can be mature…" he joked as he patted his flat stomach.
"Who will be the father?"
He snickered before saying, "Good question… Maybe I shouldn't, I don't like to change diapers."
"Well, I'm sure you'll get to change plenty on your baby brother or sister."
"I am not a babysitter."
"Oh, that's right. I am."
"Can I stay up late?" he asked.
"Did you finish your homework?"
"Uh…"
"Back to work, young man," I said as I tapped on the monitor mapping Gotham's streets in green and red.
Before donning his mask, he leaned over and kissed my cheek, "You're the best babysitter I've ever had, Babs."
"I better the only one."
He grinned, "Well, there's Alfred but he doesn't look nearly as good as you do in a black lycra tank top."
^V^
"Selina?"
Nothing.
"Did you hear that?" I asked while sitting up.
"Mhmmmuh," she groaned as she rolled away from me.
I listened to silence, and then detected faint voices once more.
A gust of wind rustled against the windows as I looked at the bedside clock. It was just after three in the morning, certainly Alfred wasn't up, not would there be any visitors. I had shut the stereo before we had gone to bed at ten… Was it a dream?
Selina moaned again, her hand snaking under the blankets and pushing on my thigh.
I was just about to lie back down but as the wind died down, I heard the voices again.
When I tried to wake Selina again, she growled something and buried herself under the covers.
Shortly after Selina had told me I was the father of her unborn child, we had decided it would be best if she moved in to live at the Manor. Alfred had suggested she take up residence in the quarters across from the master bedroom but Selina had been quick to decline.
She had replied, a hand on her swollen abdomen, "I think it's a little late to be modest, Alfred."
Although before anyone moved anywhere, Alfred had said that Dick needed to sit down with me and talk about a "certain matters."
More specifically, about babies.
Dick had explained the "birds and the bees" twice, first by making refere4nces to hotel metaphors and then once more with the straightforward approach. It had seemed odd that he had tried to placate me with the sugar coated version of things the first time around. When I asked him where he had heard that, his face turned red, "Well, it's what you told me after I asked about girls the first time." Even though I had no memory of it, I had to laugh at thought of myself being just as nervous and embarrassed, talking to a much younger Dick Grayson.
The next day, Tim and Dick had helped Selina move some of her belongings into the Manor, leaving a majority of her furniture behind. I had asked Alfred why she hadn't simply sold her apartment and he had explained that an independent woman needed a place to herself if it was needed.
"An independent woman?"
"Yes, Master Bruce, of which the very definition is Ms. Selina… motherhood has brought about docility in her, sir, but she is like… a cat. And cat chooses when and where to go and who she will go with. Much like your former self, Master Bruce."
My former self…
After a long afternoon of helping her unpack clothing closet and watching her add a few personal touches to the bedroom itself, we had decided to take a nap on the bed together. Laying on the covers, I had reclined onto my back and she had situated herself beside me, resting her head on my chest with an arm across my abdomen. Although earlier that year, I had been anxious over physical contact, it hadn't been long until I had grown accustomed to it.
"So… heard you had a nice chat with Dick today," she had said softly.
"Uh… I guess."
She had looked up at me, "Anything you didn't understand?"
"Aside from all of it?"
Selina had laughed before pushing herself up to look at me, "Well, to be fair, most sons never have to tell their fathers about that."
Feeling a flush creep over my cheeks, I had replied, "Yeah, he seemed pretty uncomfortable about it… but... we had a few laughs, too."
"Good to hear," she had smirked before biting her lower lip. After a moment, Selina had continued, "Well, you ever want try your hand at it, you let me know."
The slight flush had gone full blown, encompassing my ears as well, "Oh… Okay."
"No rush," she had kissed my cheek before settling back down beside me.
No rush.
A good plan, a smart one.
One that had lasted about an hour...
The voices drifting in and out of my hearing, I finally gave up on sleep and kissed Selina's brow before rising from the bed. Donning my robe, I quietly opened the door before quickly walking towards the stairs. Descending them, the voices became louder and I realized they belonged to Alfred and Dick.
Reaching the main floor, I caught a flash of a shadow and followed it and the voices down the north corridor. Turning after the kitchen, I heard the study's door shut, drawing me towards it. Opening it, I expected to find Dick and Alfred having an odd late night talk but instead found an empty, dark room. I was just about to turn and leave when there was a soft click on the far side of the room. More specifically, the antique Grandfather clock, carved of Redwood with brass hands and a marble face. It never clicked, in fact it was silent unless it was chiming at the hour.
The numbers were set at a little before eleven.
"Must be broken…" I muttered and went to touch the hour hand when I noticed the faintest crack of light coming from the rear of the clock. I glanced around and saw no other light sources. Stepping closer, I touched the light beam only to find a gap between the wall and the clock, one that disappeared after another click, the clock moving a fraction of an inch.
Just as I was about to try and move the clock back when Selina's voice called out, "Bruce what are you doing?"
I jumped, "Nothing, I… I heard voices and followed them in here…"
After yawning, she crossed the dimly lit room and embraced one of my arms, leading me away from the clock, "It was just a dream, come back to bed."
Looking back to the clock, I sighed in defeat. Perhaps I could figure out what was wrong with that old clock in the morning…
We returned to bed and climbed under the covers in an attempt to rebuild the lost body heat that evaporated in our absence. I felt her fingers trace the muscles of my forearm before reaching for my hand, taking it to rest the palm atop of our child.
My son.
Or daughter.
Selina kept saying it was a girl even though we had yet to learn the truth from her doctor.
Although I teased her, all I wanted was a healthy baby.
In two months, I would be father.
And maybe, someday, a husband…
A sudden jerk beneath her flesh causes me to lift my hand away from her. She was quick to say, "She is a little feisty tonight."
"Doesn't it hurt you?" I asked as I replaced my hand.
"After seven months of this, Bruce, the only thing that will hurt me is when she checks out of the hotel."
Rubbing her stomach gently, I felt a few more kicks and then finally peace. I asked, both of them, "Are you sleeping?"
She moaned, "Mhm-hmm."
"What's behind the clock? Is it like a room?"
Her eyes opened then fluttered closed again, "Morning, kay?"
I nodded. She was right, it was late and she was tired. I kissed her brow once more, "Good night, Selina."
She yawned before softly muttering, " 'Night, Bats."
^V^