Ok. I started to write the last chapter of this fic and it grew. It grew so much that I had to make a whole 'nother chapter for it. I'm sorry, really. It just went and got complicated on me. Anyway, just so you don't get mad at me, I promise to get the very last chapter up tomorrow. I just need to proof read it. I hope you all enjoy the way this turns out. It wasn't exactly the easiest scene to write… Let me know what you think. -krtshadow

Disclaimer in Chapter 1

Chapter 6: Confrontation

Even though it was now past lunchtime, I was not in the least bit hungry. To be honest, I was now so concerned about my upcoming confrontation with my father that the very thought of delaying it any longer than necessary turned my stomach. I needed to get this over with so I could continue my life. I needed to be able to put my childhood behind me, and I wouldn't be able to accomplish this until I'd had a few words with my father. I kicked my bike into action and headed back towards the outskirts of town.

As Gotham streamed by me, flashes of memory from a fifteen-year-old mind assaulted me. There was the theater that I'd taken Adriana to several times. I had to wait for a light at Fourteenth and took a second to look up toward the old Cathedral, gothic gargoyles still occupying the ledge surrounding the roof. I grinned slightly at the sight. I could remember perching up on those things more times than I could count. Mostly with Bruce, but occasionally with Dick and even once with Cass, I had crouched high above the city, watching and waiting for the next crisis to erupt. Just sitting there, waiting for the next call.

Suddenly an idea occurred to me. Making a quick lane change I pulled into the parking lot of one of the department stores that abounded in this area of town. The store was crowded, but I quickly found what I wanted and purchased it. Then I resumed my journey to the Drake Estates. I soon entered the upper class residential area, and passed on through to where the truly wealthy made their homes.

The road that led to the front entrances of both the Drake and Wayne family mansions was wide and shaded by huge oak trees and manicured lawns lined each side. I pulled into the Drake circular drive, resisting the momentary impulse to just head back to the cave and skip the whole deal altogether. I stopped my cycle before the front door and closed my eyes for a second. This was going to be very tough.

I turned off the bike and kicked the stand down. Walking slowly, I climbed the steps that led to the massive front door. I had actually hardly ever used this entrance, even when I'd been living here, because it was so out of the way from all of the things that I needed. I had usually left via the garage, or, in many cases, my second story window. Heh. Those were the days. I wondered, not for the first time, how I'd gotten away with living two lives for as long as I had. I doubted that Bruce or Dick ever really understood what a drain it was on me to have to hide always. They at least had places that they could totally relax and be not the image, not the mask, but just really who they were. I will admit that Bruce didn't avail himself of that option much, but he at least had the choice. Dick was himself almost all of the time, and even sometimes when he was in the mask. I had had no place to relax. I think that maybe that had been what had caused me to make that slip that day.

I realized that I'd been standing in front of the closed door for several minutes. Ok, Timothy Drake, no more procrastinating. Here goes nothing.

I rang the bell, doing my best to calm my nerves. I think that if someone had walked up behind me and yelled, "Boo!" right then, I'd have very likely killed them before I even knew it. Well, maybe not killed, but let's just say that they'd have got the scare of their life.

After which, I'd have probably passed out.

Luckily enough, nothing of the sort happened, and the door was opened by a cheerful older lady whom I recognized immediately. She gasped at the sight of me and looked as if she would faint. I wanted to jump forward and grab her arm so that she wouldn't fall, but since it was the sight of me that had caused this reaction, I restrained myself. "Mrs. Mac. Are you ok?"

"Timothy? Oh glory be. It is really you. What in the world are you doing here?"

I took a breath. "Well, I'd like to speak to my father."

"Oh of course, right this way." She lead me into the hall and sputtered for a second before addressing me again. "He's in the study, sir. Do you want me to announce you?"

Not another person calling me sir. I ignored the impulse to correct her and replied calmly. "No, thanks. I'll just show myself in."

Mrs. Mac backed out of sight, muttering under her breath. "Oh dear, this doesn't look good at all. Oh dear."

I would have smiled at her but by now the only thing that I wanted to do was get this over with. This was harder than facing the family last night in the cave, and more nerve wracking than facing Bruce this morning. I walked slowly to the study door, which was closed. Stopping there, I controlled my breathing and reoriented my thoughts. I wasn't really expecting this to go well, but I had some things that needed saying and they were darn well going to get said today. I finally achieved a somewhat stable mental state and opened the door.

My father sat behind the desk, shuffling through a huge stack of papers. Out of habit, I scanned the room, making sure that no one else was there. The room was otherwise empty, but I immediately noticed a half full shot glass on the desk by his right elbow. I spent half a second looking at him. He had aged, gray was liberally streaked through his hair, and his face was wrinkled in a perpetual frown. Without looking up, he barked. "What is it, Mrs. Macllvane?"

"I'm not Mrs. Macllvane." Obviously.

That had the not unexpected result of him jerking his head up and meeting my eyes. For the first time in three years, I looked straight at the face of my father.

He shook his head and passed a hand in front of his eyes, obviously disbelieving his senses. When that didn't disperse the image of me standing in the doorway staring at him, he realized who I was. I could literally see the look on his face change from surprise to anger. "Timothy Drake. What in heck are you doing here? Dang you. You ran away from school. Have you no respect?"

I cut off what was beginning to look like a lecture on the errors of my ways. "I finished school." I couldn't bring myself to call him 'Dad.' I wanted to say more, but my words were cut off.

"Ridiculous, you're not old enough." He turned towards the phone, cursing me and the school and anyone else that he could think to blame.

Before he could pick up the receiver I interrupted his tirade. "I'm eighteen and a legal adult, and I finished school with honors, in case you care." Which I was pretty sure that he didn't but I felt justified in bragging a little. Just in case. "Maybe you need to check my birth certificate?"

My sarcasm went right over his head. He turned to look at me again and sputtered. "You can't be eighteen."

"Almost nineteen, actually." A couple of months, actually, but that counted as almost. At least in my opinion. "I haven't been at school for nine months."

That caught his attention. "Where were you?" He glared at me like he thought that I had probably spent the time in prison or something.

If he'd have shown anything to make me think that he was happy to see him, I might have been a little more polite. But he was the one that was making this an interrogation, and since he started it, I didn't feel compelled to be all that nice. Which meant that I was going to tell him the truth, or at least part of it, since that would be the absolute last thing that he would want to hear. "China." I also wasn't going to answer anything that he didn't directly ask. Childish, maybe, but I felt that he needed to be the one to make the first friendly move. If he never did, then fine, but as the instigator of at least eighty percent of all the problems between us, he needed to realize that I was talking to him now on an equal level.

"CHINA???" Whew, for a guy in his fifties, he sure still had good lungs. I resisted the urge to rub my ears and continued to watch my father, not letting any emotion cross my face. "What the heck were you doing in China?"

"I was in the process of furthering my studies in preparation for returning to Gotham." Among other things, but no use confusing him any more than necessary. And the statement 'returning to Gotham' pretty much sums it all up.

My father looked utterly baffled and I have to admit that I didn't feel at all sorry for him. If he'd have even wrote me once while I was overseas, or came to visit me any one of the six times that he'd been overseas himself, I would have been happy to tell him at least the basics of what I was doing. I would have been overjoyed, too, but that wasn't really relevant, since it had never happened.

Dad finally spoke. "Well, you are going back to college overseas immediately. I don't know how you managed to fool me about your eighteenth birthday, but it won't matter. I was planning on enrolling you in Hamburg College in Germany. I'll have to call in a few favors…" His voice muttered off into grumbles as he once again reached for the phone.

"I don't think you are understanding me. I am not going to be going back overseas. I'm staying in Gotham. All I wanted to do was see how you and Dana are doing." That's certainly all that I wanted to do, but my expectations of the results of the visit were definitely different. Honestly, I really didn't know if I was really staying in Gotham or not, but it was a distinct possibility. Whether or not I was staying or not really didn't matter at this point. My father would definitely not care for the idea. I was mentally counting the seconds until the explosion.

Three, two, one…

"YOU ARE NOT STAYING IN GOTHAM! I forbid it. I won't have you here where those blasted costume wearing idiots can try to subvert you into illegal activities." He then went off on a tirade, cursing me, Batman, Gotham, and anybody else that he could think of with a vocabulary that would embarrass a sailor.

I stood there for several minutes, just taking it. Finally, after one particularly crude remark, I mentally waved goodbye to my control of my temper and allowed my face to show the anger that I was feeling. Dear old dad took one look at my rapidly darkening face and paused in his rant for a split second. Maybe, just maybe, the fact that I could be considered a dangerous man was sinking in. I'd even settle for him considering me a competent adult.

Fat chance. His voice was full of anger as he slammed a fist down on the desk. "You will leave this city immediately or I will immediately go to the authorities with what I know about you. You will be happy enough to leave after your secrets are out. You will certainly never be able to… to… wear one of those awful masks." Dad settled back into his wheelchair, with a look of smug satisfaction on his face. He obviously thought that this ultimatum would reduce me to the obedient son that he thought that I should be.

"Wrong." I managed to control my temper just enough to let the word come out smooth and even. This particular gambit of my father's had been somewhat expected, and unfortunately for him, I had a perfect counter argument. Heh.

TBC…