Title: Father's Day
Author: Simon
Pairing: Dick Grayson
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: It's Father's Day in Bludhaven
Warnings: shameless sentimentality
Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst
luck, so don't bother me.
Feedback: Hell, yes. Baeden2020y...

Father's Day

A city park in Bludhaven, kids talking. A cop is a few yards away,
quietly listening.

"Yeah, well, it's a pain in my ass. I get home ten minutes late and
I'm frigging grounded for a week."

"That bites, man."

"My mother told me—get this—I have to be home by six so we can take
the old bastard out for dinner. I mean, like I have no life, for
God's sake."

"I got off easy, I just got stuck with lunch, but we have to go
someplace he wants, so it's gonna suck."

"You all got off easy. I have to change the oil in his damn car THEN
take him to visit my grandfather at the damn home. I mean, Christ."

"You know what burns my ass the most? I mean, I get all A's last
marking period and one B. You know what he says? What happened
here?' Like it's not good enough."

"Tell me about it. I have to get a job this summer. He says that if
I want a car I have to pay for the insurance and the gas myself. You
know what that's gonna cost?"

"You have any idea how embarrassing it is to have you father call
the teacher and ask why I got a D in English? Now he reads every
damn book we get assigned and quizzes me on it. Jesus. It's like I'm
too dumb to do it myself."

"He told me that if I get home late again, I'm grounded for the
whole month."

"Sucks, man."

"Yeah, like he'd even notice. He's always out working and shit. I
mean, it's not like he's even there. He never even said anything
when I got that extra point in the game last week."

"Man, that was awesome. Was he there?"

"Yeah, he got there late, like usual."

"And my Mom? Always defends the bastard—He does everything for you
and your sister. He's doing it all for you. He's soooo proud of
you.' My ass"

The cop starts to stroll by the kids. They know him. He's OK, never
hassles them, sometimes even shoot hoops with them. He's a good guy.

"Hey, dude, you going to hang with your Dad today?"

"No." He starts to move on.

"How come? I'da though you're a frigging boy scout about crap like
that."

He stops, turns back to the group of boys. He knows them, sees them
here almost every day. Sometimes they talk. They aren't bad kids,
just young. He decides to make a point, one he usually avoids.

"My father was murdered in front of me four days after my eighth
birthday. So was my mother." It's said mildly and with no emotion, a
fact long ago accepted.

"...Fuck me, man, I didn't know...jeez. I mean, sorry."

He nods, going to let it drop but changes his mind and turns
back. "I'd give anything, do anything to have one more day with him—
just five more minutes. If I could—just to be able to talk with him
again. I'd give anything to just be able to look at him one more time." He
looks like he's going to say more but just shakes his head and keeps
walking.

One by one, the boys look at one another and go home.

6/20/04