"Your turn to be Batman."

Jason's eyes went wide in surprise and he almost choked on his own saliva. Once he was done coughing, he looked at Dick with surprise, disbelief, and amazement mixed with slight anger. "What the fuck did you say?"

"You heard me right."

"I'm beginning to think you're going crazy."

"I'm not."

"Really? I think you are. You can't honestly believe that I can become Batman."

"Why?"

"Because I'm already full of rage!" he exploded. "The fact that I hit you earlier proves it! That I hurt one of the very few people who loves me and truly cares about me! If I became Batman the anger would completely overwhelm me and I am afraid. Afraid that there would be nothing left of Jason Todd-Wayne but just the corrupted Jason from the Lazarus Pit." he admitted, calming himself toward the end of his speech.

"The fact that you admitted your fear of becoming Batman will help you on the path to inheriting the mantle, I'm sure. It will help you manage your anger, keep it from consuming you. Also, there will be people to help you, you will not be alone." Dick stated with a reassuring smile.

"You won't be there, though." he muttered irritably with a trace of fear. He continued his speech before Dick could say a word about his earlier comment. "Why me? Why not someone else?"

Jason was no fool. He knew that inheriting Batman's cape and cowl was no walk in the park. He knew Dick could have asked someone else, even someone outside their family.

So why would Dick ask him, with anger issues and homicidal insanity, when there were people out there far better suited than him in the role of Batman? Who would do a better job than him?

Why ask it him and not to someone who has never killed, unlike him?

"Because I trust you, Jason. I know you will not succumb to darkness and you will do an outstanding job." he declared with absolute confidence in him, never with an uncertainty.

Although he could never thank him enough for all his trust, Jason was still very unsure of the question. "Why me? Why not the substitute or the demon?"

Dick looked at him impassively. "Dami is just a kid and Tim is still too young." he said in a flat tone.

Jason had no retort for that. "Point taken. But what about Cass? She would fit the role of Batman perfectly."

"I don't deny that she could be a good Batman in the future but she is not yet ready and mature to inherit the cowl. She lacks your experience and ability to adapt to most possible situations with minimal margin for error."

There was a pause in their conversation.

"Why me?" asked Jason, his voice becoming softer and lower.

Richard sighed heavily. "I told you before why, Jay."

Right

"Then why not pick a temporary substitute or train one to allow one of the replacement, Cassandra, the Demon Child, or even the blondie to take that damn cowl?"

"Because, although you have a hard time believing it, you too were the son of Bruce Wayne and, consequently, Batman!" Dick blurted out, his almost limitless patience at its limits. He tapped the minor's forehead. "You deserve to inherit his cowl as much as I do and as much as Cass, Steph, Timmy and Dami will! There is no better among us, we are all his sons! No one outside this family is allowed to wear his legacy! No one! Do you understand that or not?"

And Jason understood.

He could understand.

Bruce trusted all of them to take his inheritance (although he did not want it for any of them, Batman was too great a burden and he did not want it for his children).

He trusted only his children and no one else.

Jason would not let him down, just as he would not let Dick, Tim, Cass, Steph, Damian, Alfred, Kate, and Dinah down.

He still had an insecurity, though...

"I doubt I could be as good as you or as good as Bruce was." he admitted.

The firstborn's heart melted.

At times like these he could see Jason again as the little brother he had loved so much when he was Robin, before his death by that damned clown.

And although he loved this Jason with all his life, sometimes he missed that Jason.

He grew up too fast and death changed him, even though his family managed to bring him back to the right path.

However...

"You don't have to be like him or like me. You have to be your own Batman." he smiled. "Would you have ever imagined a smiling Batman who sometimes gets a few puns out of him?"

Jason chuckled.

"Besides if I, of all people, have managed to not screw up Gotham, then you're going to do a great job as Batman."

The second-born looked at him.

Was he serious?

Was he really belittling his work as Batman?

Sometimes Jason thought Dick was even better than the first Batman. He made a mental note to talk to the others about it. He was pretty sure he was not the only one who thought so.

Before he could voice his thoughts aloud, he found himself pressed into a hug. He returned the hug, slightly uncomfortable but then relaxed.

Then a thought occurred to him.

"Ehy, you're getting blood on my clothes!" he complained.

"Shut up and give me a hug."

Dick Grayson stood alone in the Batcave, an hour before the usual patrol time.

He outgrew the display cases that held his suits, which told a piece of his life, each one of them.

He outgrew his Robin suit that started an entire legacy. Red, yellow and black: the three typical colors of the Dark Knight's partner.

He outgrew his first Nightwing costume, what his family dubbed "Discowing" and which lasted a few months. Honestly, Dick loved that suit; it was the others who did not understand the true meaning of fashion.

He outgrew the first model of the Nightwing suit, which looked very much like the one he wore a short time before.

He outgrew the Nightwing suit with the red stripes on the chest, the one he alternated with the one with the blue stripes that he wore most frequently.

He outgrew the most recent copy of the Nightwing suit with the blue stripes.

He outgrew the copy of his Batman suit that he had been wearing lately and would probably wear for a long time.

If not forever.

He passed all of them and stood in front of one particular display case.

His expressionless blue eyes stared solemnly at the suit on the other side.

Batman's suit.

Not his own, but the last copy of the one his father wore.

He walked over to the display case and placed his right hand on it.

On where a very important symbol would stand.

On the Bat symbol.

He bowed his head slightly.

"You may enter Dinah." he called without even looking back.

The blond emitted a snort and positioned herself beside her boyfriend. "I won't even ask how you knew it was me." she narrowed her eyes worriedly when he did not respond to her comment. "How did it go with the others?"

"Pretty well, I guess. I can only hope that I was helpful enough for them. I think they'll be okay, in time, though it will always hurt." he replied without ever looking at her.

Minutes passed in not too uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't mean to be it." said Dick suddenly.

Dinah looked at him confused. "To be what?"

"To be The Batman." his girlfriend gave him time to process his speech, glad he was opening up to her. "Nightwing is what I want to be, my man, my hero.

"Of course, working with Batman as Robin was one of the best things in life that ever happened to me, but in the end Robin always comes after Batman and I'm okay with that because he's his partner.

"Instead as Nightwing I have more respect, the criminals are more afraid of me, I have... I had my own city to protect and watch over. I worked hard to be Nightwing and to achieve all these things. And now I'm only going to be Nightwing for JLA emergencies, even if they happen every other day. I mean, you get the picture.

"That's the first reason why, although I always knew it was likely that I would be Batman someday, I never wanted to be it." he stated without ever looking at her.

"And the other reason?" she asked carefully.

Seconds full of silence passed before the younger man replied. "The other reason I hated the idea of being Batman was that I would become it because something unpleasant would happen to Bruce, my father: in fact here we are."

Dinah recorded in her brain all the new information she had received.

So Dick hated being Batman because he preferred to remain as Nightwing and because he knew it was his time to take over for his adoptive father in the Dark Knight's shoes since Bruce, for one reason or another, would be unavailable.

"I'm glad you opened up to me, Dick: I really am." she smiled as she shook his hand. She giggled when he smiled back without even turning around. "Can I ask you a question?" she then asked suddenly.

"Sure."

She bit her lip, sighing. "What's it like... being Batman?" she hoped she hadn't annoyed Dick too much (it was still strange to think that now her boyfriend was Batman).

The acrobat remained silent. Dinah feared he would not answer her but was soon contradicted. "Strange."

"Strange?" she echoed his reply.

"Strange." he confirmed. "I honestly thought it would be worse. I mean, certainly being Batman is proving to be one of the most difficult challenges I've ever faced, but still... the thing is that I got used to being my own Batman in a short time. Too short time, as if-"

"-If you were born to be Batman." she continued with a small smile.

He nodded. "And it's strange, since I didn't really want to be it but to continue my vigilante career as Nightwing."

"You're doing a great job, Dick. He would be proud of you."

"I hope so, Dinah." pause "I-I just..." Dinah gave him time to process the sentence. Dick rubbed his face, completely tired, emotionally speaking, of the last period. "I wasn't ready to lose him yet, Dinah." he whispered, his voice taking on connotations of sadness, loss and defeat that his girlfriend had never heard before.

The blonde swore she felt his heart break.

Dinah closed her blue eyes, unable to fully comprehend the pain and turmoil Dick was actually feeling. She only knew that there was little she could do to lessen his pain, considering the more unique than rare relationship between Bruce and Dick.

"You said earlier that the children were fine, but what about you?" the beautiful blonde asked after minutes of complete silence.

He initially did not answer her, continuing to look ahead. He opened the display case and rested his hand on the Bat symbol.

He recalled all the times he had fallen asleep on Batman resting his head on the symbol, loving and basking on his father's calm, steady, peaceful heartbeat.

He remembered all the times that, whenever he saw Batman's shadow, he felt overwhelmed by an unsurpassed sense of security. Because he knew that with his father near him, nothing bad would happen to him.

He recalled all the times he caught a glimpse of a small hint of a smile on Batman's face and how each time he felt pleased with himself for being able to make his father smile. Same with the laughter.

He remembered all the times he had sparred with Batman: the Dynamic Duo training sessions (or between Batman and Nightwing).

He remembered all the times Batman smiled proudly at him, resting his hand on his shoulder with a satisfied smile. Like when he had beaten his first criminal (or super-villain), every time he saved civilian lives, the first time he had beaten an official member of the League when he was only fourteen, the day he had managed to beat him for the first time in a sparring session when he was seventeen and when, a few moths later, he had officially joined the JLA when he was only seventeen (the youngest ever), the first time he had had to lead the Justice League in his absence.

These were just a few examples; he could go on forever practically.

He remembered one of the most important days of his life. In that very dark cave, a few feet away from where he currently stood, he had taken a most important oath.

Never tell anyone about Batman's civilian identity.

Never use his abilities for evil.

And above all, Batman's number one rule.

Never kill.

True, he had told Jason that he would kill to keep his family safe and would not go back on his words.

He would not hesitate to kill if it meant that his family would be safe.

But it was equally true that if he did kill, he would be afraid of himself. Fear of repeating the act, fear of not being able to stop himself.

He touched the Kevlar material that covered the suit, loving the feel of it.

Three words were enough for him to describe it.

Warm.

Safe.

Home.

Without ever taking his eyes off the suit he replied to his girlfriend.

"A part of me, the same part that helped me get through my parent's death, is dead. And there is nothing you or others can do about it. Time can only weakly ease the emotional wound but there will always be an emptiness inside me."

Dinah felt her heart break at her fiancé's words. She hated to see him so defeated. And she especially hated that there was little she could do to help him.

She hugged him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder after gently kissing his cheek.

"I will always be on your side forever."

Dinah, although she could not see it, was sure Dick was smiling sweetly at that comment.

"I know, Dinah. I know."