Just a few quick thank-yous to start off here;

Comics Girl: I always wondered too, which is part of the reason that I wrote this ;)

Carms: Hey sis, great to hear from you again and I know what you mean about family :grin: but it always ends up nice in the long run doesn't it?

Ytak: Such language! :grin: Alas, I can't seem to master the not happy at the end type of fic, so there is a reconciliation – of sorts – well just read on and you'll see what I mean. :)

Ktfanfic, fireinu, and MoonDancerCat: Thank you all for your positive reviews, they were very good food for my starving muse :)

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Bludhaven
Early Morning
12:28 a.m.

Terry soon found himself coasting over the rooftops of Gotham's so-called sister city. He was surprised at how clean it looked. He remembered hearing the stories of when not too long ago the city had been corrupt right from it's core. In some of the stories that Terry had heard Tim and Barbara tell, Dick had moved to the area with the intention of attacking the crooks from both sides. On the streets as Nightwing, and in the force as an officer working his way up through the ranks, as well as in the government via some behind the scenes lobbying and anonymous donations.

'Seems like it worked.' Terry was impressed. He only had to stop two muggings and one attempted sexual assault on his way to Grayson's house. It was peanuts in the way of crime, nothing like he was used to dealing with in Gotham. Soon enough he found himself outside of the penthouse condominium that Dick Grayson called home.

Lights were still on, good – at least he wouldn't be waking the guy up. That could have made things start off on a really bad foot and they were bound to be bad enough with the subject matter.

He dropped from the hatch on the Batmobile's belly to the open terrace and knocked on the sliding glass doors, curious about the man that he was finally about to meet. It seemed that he had heard so much about him that, in some ways, he already knew the man. He just had never actually met or seen him before.

Terry felt himself tense automatically as he watched the figure on the other side approach. 'Jeez, he's just like Bruce, Barb and Tim. He might be retired, but still moves like a damn predator.' He consciously had to force himself to relax before the person on the other side of the door saw him in such a battle ready posture. He succeeded just as the light for the terrace flickered on and the door slid open. 'Whew!' Last thing he needed was for the guy to think that Terry was hostile – or at least, hostile for the wrong reasons.

"Oh – it's you." The older man who had opened the door made no motions to invite Terry in, and Terry didn't ask. "I was wondering who would knock on my penthouse balcony door." He didn't sound impressed. 'Sarcastic enough? Jeez.' Terry was fighting the urge to wince; Bruce hadn't been this cold to anyone in a long time and Terry for one didn't miss it.

They just stared at each other for a bit until Dick broke the stalemate. "Okay, I give – What are you doing here?" he already sounded pissed and so Terry decided to go for broke. He hadn't known how to phrase what he wanted to say to the other man, but now that he didn't have to worry about ticking him off – he could just say what was on his mind and bother the niceties.

"I came to say something to you. To tell you that if you keep going the way you are, you're going to regret it." Dick blinked; looking so much like Bruce when he was shocked that Terry had to choke back the laugh that threatened.

Dick's face began to darken in anger and he opened his mouth but Terry jumped in and continued before he could get a word out, "Seriously Grayson, you need to do some major thinking. You've already lost one father to a sudden and gruesome death when you were young along with your mother, and then Bruce took you in. He gave you a home, cared for you and gave you a means to avenge your parents' murder." Dick again made as if to say something but Terry cut him off rudely with a sharp hand gesture.

"Yes. I know – he's a controlling bastard that doesn't know when to let up on a good day, but he's your adoptive father and his health is failing. You have a chance here that you didn't have with your blood father – or that I did with mine – a chance to make peace, for yourself – not for him and a chance to say goodbye. If you think about it, really stand back and think, you know who will be the one suffering if you don't, and I'll give you a clue – dead men have no regrets."

Dick wasn't about to be denied his say again. Incensed he burst out. "Who do you think you are punk? Telling me what I'm going to feel – " Terry cut him off again.

"Who am I? I'm a son who left one night after a fight with my father and came back the next morning to find him a bloody pulped mess. A son with no chance of fixing the horrible and hurtful things that he said and didn't mean, because his father was murdered. Just like yours, I know, but at least your father was taken when your relationship was still innocent." Stopping briefly to fight down the lump that had risen in his throat, Terry calmed himself down before continuing in a slightly less vehement voice.

"You know something? Bruce is also your father – whether you like it or not – and that's not going to go away, no matter how hard you ignore him. He's a man who never really knew how to show how he cared, but don't make the mistake of thinking that he doesn't because he does, very much. Bruce also is a very old man now, one whose health is really beginning to deteriorate and ironically enough – for a person always being accused of being heartless; it's his heart that's currently giving him so much trouble." Terry sighed and said reflectively, "A person we know once said 'Sometimes the important things go unsaid, if there's one thing I've learned – you've got to appreciate the people in your life while you have the chance.' I think that's one of the wisest things that I have ever heard. What about you?"

His unexpectedly long-winded rant came to an end and Terry found that he didn't have anything else to say. He just thought with some astonishment – 'Whoa, that came from out of the blue.' He also really didn't want to stick around now, just in case Dick decided to show his displeasure with the mouthy little upstart physically. So he left. Without saying another word. Just opened his wings and fired his jet boots to fly up to the waiting Batmobile.

He really hoped that Dick had at least heard some of what he had said word-wise, and not registered just the tone. He winced inwardly, 'maybe I should take some courses in public relations because that really could have been handled better.' It could go either way now, Terry could only hope for the best. He really wanted to see Bruce and Dick mend things, for their own sakes.

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Dick Grayson's Condo,
Bludhaven
12:53 a.m.

Dick stood on his balcony and just stared after the fading orangey-red glow of the Batmobile's afterburner. He couldn't believe the kid who played at being Batman nowadays had the nerve to just come to his home at this time of night, nonchalantly knock (albeit on his penthouse patio door) like he was just visiting a friend and lecture him! Just who did he think he was? He had no idea of the history involved here. 'Bruce put him up to it, he must've.' There was no other reason for the kid to have come out here on his own – or was there?

'Rude little smart mouthed brat!' Dick recalled how he hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise and every time he had tried he'd gotten summarily cut off. 'That speech of his had been pretty impassioned though,' Dick thought as he struggled to recall the words the kid had said. 'Damn, I used to be a much better listener, even when I was ticked off.' He did remember most of what the kid had said, he hadn't slipped that far, and winced as in recollection he caught what the kid had been through. He bet that what he had mentioned was only the barest of bones to the case too; that there were whole other layers the kid hadn't even bothered to reveal. The other thing that really stood out was how Bruce's health was failing. Could that be true? Dick hadn't really thought of how old his foster father was getting – he ignored his own birthdays, so why would he pay attention to anybody else's?

He abruptly spun on his heel after glancing at his watch, it wasn't that late – not for certain people that he knew. He knew that Barbara was bound to still be up and he wanted to talk to someone who knew – well, everything. She wasn't likely to lie or sugarcoat things either, not to him at any rate – and hopefully he could get all the facts.

Dick dialed the familiar number swiftly when he reached the vidscreen in his living room and wasn't surprised when Barbara picked up on the first ring. Looking at the face of one of his oldest friends he saw something in her eyes that told him that she knew why he was calling. He also saw for the first time how old she looked in comparison to his memories of the times that they had ran the rooftops together, which is how he saw her in his mind's eye, even with the meetings they had over the years in between then and now.

"What's happening short-pants?" she asked.

Dick grimaced at the old hated nickname before he answered her, "Somehow, I think that you already know the answer to that question Babs, my dear girl. I wanted to talk to you about the flying black rodent visitor that I just had."

"Oh, I had hoped that he might go and talk to you." Barbara said calmly.

"So it was you that sicced him on me!" Dick said indignantly.

"Well, you weren't answering Bruce, and you weren't listening to either Tim or me... I thought that Terry might have a better chance of getting through your thick skull. Especially since the kid has managed to break Bruce down into something resembling a human being." Barb retorted with a hint of her old fire.

"He what? Bruce – human? What are you talking about woman?" Dick could feel a headache coming on. Everything had been going just fine, he'd been content and now it looked like he was going to have to drag all the mud back up to the surface. "Babs, tell me – how is Bruce? That black-suited mouthpiece said something about the old man's health failing – his heart specifically, is it true?"

"Yes Dick, it's true enough. We just brought him home again after his third heart attack now. The next one he has just might be the one to kill him." Her voice was somber. "What is it that's stopping you, Dick, from coming home?"

"Babs, you know it's not that simple – " Dick started out of habit but Barbara cut him off, out of impatience for the old song and dance.

"No Dick, it is that simple. You're the one who is making things more difficult than they have to be." She took a breath, closed her eyes and then opened them again and said in a much softer voice, "I think that I have an idea of what Terry said to you – all I ask is for you to think about it. The kid has a surprisingly wise head on his shoulders for one so young, even if he does fall into most of his wisdom backwards." She smiled wryly, obviously remembering some things brought to mind by the last thing that she said.

Dick stared at her, his curiosity spiraling higher about this Terry guy. Barbara wasn't normally one to wax nostalgic, not even about their glory days in costume. He had to ask, "What? Why are you smiling like that? What is it about this 'Terry' that has the old man and now you all nicey-nice?"

Barbara laughed at his tone; she recognized it from the days of old. Dick had his nose caught in a mystery and she had a feeling that he didn't realize that he was ensnared yet. "Tim too," she added and waited. He didn't disappoint her.

"Tim? How – after – does this 'Terry' stick his nose, unwanted, into everyone's business?" He burst out, angry that Tim had been dragged back into a world that he had been more than grateful to leave by the end.

"Now hold on, you haven't been here and so there are a few things that you've missed out on. Don't go jumping to conclusions at this late stage of the game short-pants!" Dick could tell that Barbara was loosing patience with him as she fell back into using that hated nickname for him. He ran an agitated hand through his too long, salt and pepper hair.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Help me out then, tell me a few things about the kid?" His blue eyes twinkled as his lips turned up in the old lopsided and cocky Robin grin. It was the opening that Barbara had been waiting for – the chance to whet his appetite. She figured that if she couldn't get him to come home because Bruce was sick, she could at least get Dick curious enough that he would come home because he wanted to meet Terry. To confirm for himself all that she was going to tell him about the boy.

"Sure, that I can do Dick." She said warmly but then floundered. She didn't know where to start. Terry was a complicated individual and there was a lot that she didn't find out until after the fact. Her knowledge had been helped along by the fact that Terry seemed to attract trouble in some way or another and her aid had been needed to untangle him from some of it too, but that really wasn't something that she wanted to tell Dick right off.

Dick, seeing her dilemma helped her out by prompting, "You said that you thought you knew what he had said to me – you know his story?" Barbara's face cleared and her eyes were thankful.

"Yes, yes I do. Terry's Dad – Warren McGinnis – worked with a friend of his, Harry Tully at Wayne-Powers when Derek Powers was still the CEO. Harry stumbled onto the fact that Powers was making nerve gas, which Powers responded to by arranging for a little gas leak in Harry's lab. I guess Powers figured that it took care of two problems with one stone, Harry would be silenced and he got a human lab rat to use for a test run of the gas before he sold it to the eastern bloc. Unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on who you were – Harry had already contacted Warren, Terry's father, and passed on the evidence." Dick winced. He knew where this story was going.

"Powers sent his 'personal assistant' Mr. Fixx to take care of the new problem. He must have beaten Warren pretty much to death to try and get him to talk and then tossed the place looking for the evidence. And then to cover his tracks made it look like a robbery committed by a bunch of Jokerz."

Dick grimaced. That was a mess for sure, but Barbara wasn't done. She had some icing to add to the pile. "Ironically, Terry had left the house that night after having a fight with his father about not being control his temper and immediately gotten into a fight with a Jokerz gang."

"Oh good god. That is some wicked irony."

"Yeah well, that was the night that he met Bruce for the first time too." Dick perked up, this he wanted to hear. "Seems that the gang chased Terry right up to the gates of Wayne Manor when Bruce was out taking a late evening stroll. From what Bruce told me, Terry nearly killed himself when Bruce popped up in front of him out of the dark." Dick snickered. He could just see Bruce doing that, even now.

Barbara grinned, "Yeah, I know, he'll never change. Anyway – there was Terry, standing with his back to the gates ready to take on the whole bloody gang. Bruce said he didn't know whether to be impressed with the kid's guts – or to write him up as certifiable." Dick choked, that had sounded like a joke – from Bruce?

"I'm going to guess that Bruce didn't let the kid take the whole gang on, not while he was standing there." Dick ventured.

"No, you got that right." Barbara rolled her eyes. "Bruce did his barking orders from the darkness thing and appeared. Trouble was he's old and looks it so it didn't impress these kids much, which in turn pissed Bruce off." Ouch, Dick made a face. A ticked off Bruce was not a fun Bruce.

Barbara continued, "He and Terry have to be given the credit for one thing at least, legally they would never have been found at fault. They let the gang start swinging first, even if it ended up that none of the gang members were able to land one."

'Never able to land... with no training the kid had already been that good?' Dick was impressed. A thought struck him then. "I would have given anything to see the kid's face when Bruce started taking some of them down," he said with a wicked grin.

Barbara laughed again, "I believe the word that Bruce used to describe the expression on Terry's face afterwards was 'reverent'." Dick snorted and rolled his eyes – that was all Bruce needed – more fuel for his ego.

"Of course, it changed fairly quickly when Bruce's heart started to act up and he needed help to the manor. Went from awed to worried hen in about ten seconds flat." Dick nodded, that made sense. Kid might have been a scrapper, but sounded like his heart had been in the right place from the start. And that Bruce's had been giving him trouble for a lot longer than Dick had thought.

"Terry found the batcave that night, after he had gotten Bruce his medicine and the old man had fallen asleep on him."

Dick whistled, "Whoa, that was quick – " Barbara just shrugged – she just personally thought of it as the record to date. As far as she knew nobody else had stumbled onto the cave anywhere near that soon after being in the manor.

"When Bruce woke up and found out where the kid was, he unceremoniously kicked him out. Told him never to come back. Then of course when Terry got home that morning he found his father dead, apparently brutally murdered by Jokerz. He blamed himself - he thought that the group he and Bruce had trounced had found his dad and done it in revenge at first. It wasn't until after the funeral that he found out the truth, that was when he was moving his stuff in to his mom's house and he found the disk that was the real reason his Dad had gotten killed."

Dick knew what was coming, "He didn't trust the cops did he?" Barbara shook her head. "So he took it to Bruce because he figured that if anyone could do something it was Batman. Figures."

Barbara shook her head in the negative and corrected him in his assumption, "Not only because he was Batman, mostly because it was Wayne-Powers that his dad had worked for. He thought Bruce could do something about his own company." Dick ohh'd in comprehension. "But Bruce told him to bring the disk to me, that he couldn't help him. Terry was bitterly on his way to just that when Powers ambushed him, Terry managed to get away but he lost the evidence – " Dick grimaced.

"Yeah, don't go feeling too sorry for the kid. Wait until you hear what he did next – he snuck into the manor under Bruce's nose and stole the new Batsuit." Dick's eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. And he thought the kid had nerve to come and talk to him like he had – turns out that little stunt had been nothing in the grand scheme of things.

"I'm guessing that Bruce wasn't too impressed." He understated purposefully.

Barbara snorted, "All I know is that by the end of the night, Terry had somehow managed to change Bruce's mind about his being allowed in the suit. I never did get all the details – and I am pretty sure I don't want them – but I have to admit, when I started working with Terry rather than against him things certainly started to get better."

Dick was confused, "What do you mean – worked against him? Why would you of all people do that?"

"I thought that the time for vigilantes was done. I really only just looked the other way at first, but then my husband was targeted once by the Society of Assassins and we ended up talking. He was a charming kid," she chuckled. "He got me talking about the old days in next to no time – it was pretty amazing." Dick nodded in agreement, that was pretty amazing – Barbara was not one to reminisce.

Barbara laughed suddenly, "You know even after I accepted him, I kept trying to talk him out of the suit for the longest time. I told him that it was a thankless existence, but he's stubborn like a mule just like someone else we know." Dick grinned. He thought that Terry sounded like a kindred spirit for a certain 'Bat' for sure. He didn't even clue in that Barbara might have meant him as well.

"I would tell him to take it from experience, that he couldn't keep living a life of narrow escapes forever and that the rewards were small if any. You want to know what his response was?" Dick nodded curious despite himself. "He said, 'Well, sometimes the small rewards are the best ones.'" The two old friends shared an understanding look. It was a sentiment that they understood all too well, and the reason they had had both fought alongside Bruce for so long.

"The only other time that we were at loggerheads was after the Society of Assassins thing a few months later. This time the kid ticked me off by ruining a sting I had been working on for a year. I know," she forestalled his logical comment before he could make it.

"I could have prevented that one simply by working with the kid from the start, but I still didn't want to have him officially involved in police business. Someone decided to take advantage of my anger with Batman from that botched sting and manipulated me into thinking that I saw him kill." Dick swore. Barbara must have really doubted the kid early on because Batman didn't kill. Ever.

"Yeah, well, we managed to get it all straightened out after I had the kid cornered at the old Majestic. Bruce figured out that it was this guy who called himself Spellbinder who had made me see the unthinkable. He tried to tell me, but I have to admit I wasn't listening to him. I was too mad."

"Unthinkable is right, there is no way that Bruce would have taken the kid on if he had the aptitude for that kind of behavior, not after Jean-Paul – and you know that Barb." Dick said, his eyes narrow.

"You would think, but you haven't come into contact with Billings – Spellbinder – yet. The man creates illusions so real that you can smell and taste them as well as hear and see. At any rate, when Bruce couldn't get through to me, he told the kid what to look for. Terry then very skillfully set me and Spellbinder – who was hiding behind me at the time – up. He made motions like he was surrendering and then fired a batarang directly for Spellbinder's globe, knowing that I would be able to duck. Then after I had hunted him and harassed him, in both his lives, he still protected me when Spellbinder went to take me out." Dick nodded, he personally couldn't see how Terry could have acted any different and still be able to face wearing the suit. Except that Terry hadn't grown up in Batman's house, with his sense of honour being drummed into him – he'd come to the mantle when he was very nearly an adult. It would have been very easy for him to let any resentment he had make him just hang back and let the police deal with the man, even if they didn't get there in time.

"You know something, I think it was something that Spellbinder said combined with how Terry acted after it was all done that really got me starting to respect the kid in the long run." Barbara said quietly, almost as if she were speaking more to herself.

"What's that?" Dick prompted when it looked like she was drifting off into her memories. Called back, her green eyes met his blue,

"Oh, well Billings taunted me by saying I was so ready to believe the worst that it was easy for him to convince me that I had seen Batman kill – and then when I apologized to Terry, saying I blew it – he just shrugged it off. Told me with a smile that he'd 'been there' and flew away."

"Classy."

"You got that right. So now I owed him and after sending cops around to his house to bring him in for questioning, I knew in part how to pay him back." Dick cocked an eyebrow. "I called his mother personally and told her that I just wanted to talk to Terry about wanting to award him with a student service medal. Put him in schway-ville with his mom I was told."

"I bet it did." Dick chuckled. "You know, in some ways this doesn't sound like the kid that showed up here tonight, but in others – I can certainly see it."

"Well, that's probably in part because most of what I have been telling you about is from almost ten years ago Dick. The kid, that we keep referring tois twenty-seven now and – I might add – has been running Wayne Industries single-handedly for the last two years, with the help of a friend of his at times. He's done a pretty good job too, even if it has been under protest for most of that time. Bruce has been up to some of his old tricks – he is bound and determined to show Terry that he can run the company because he wants to leave it to him when he goes. Only problem is that Terry doesn't want it." Dick looked skeptical; he didn't think that anyone would refuse billions offered to him or her on a platter.

"Are you sure he's not just playing coy Barb?"

Barbara laughed. "Oh Lord Dick, you really have to come home and actually meet Terry because if you knew him at all there is no way that you would have asked me that question. Terry wouldn't know how to do coy if it bit him in the butt." Dick couldn't help it, he laughed. But he still felt a tiny niggle of worry.

Barbara could see everything that he was thinking in his eyes. 'Yes,' she stifled the exultant cry that wanted to escape. He was caught – hook, line and sinker. Time for the last tidbit, "This weekend Dick would be the perfect time for you to drop in – it's Bruce's turn to host the 'Family' dinner and we'll all be there."

Dick's head shot up, "Family dinner? Host? Bruce has people at the manor without Alfred to serve as a buffer? You do mean at the manor, right? Many people – strange ones – kids even?"

"Oh, I guess that was one of the many things that you have missed because you weren't accepting calls from Bruce or listening to Tim and I." She couldn't resist the barb. "About six – seven years ago Terry arranged these monthly gatherings. What he calls to those of us 'in-the-know', the extended 'bat'-family dinners." Dick snorted; the kid had an odd sense of humour that was for sure. Almost as odd as his own.

"So who all is part of this extended 'bat'-family?" he asked.

Barbara sat back and started ticking off on her fingers, "Well, let's see... Bruce – Me and Sam, Tim and his family – his wife Mandy and their two kids, Rick and Jan – then there's Terry, his mother, Mary, and brother, Matt and then there's Terry's fiancée, Dana and Terry's best friend, Max. That's the lot of us, oh and you of course, if you ever bother to show."

Dick was counting in his head as she was listing them off, "Jeez, that's a lot of people. Good thing Bruce has that huge dining room table or we wouldn't all fit."

Barbara smiled to hear him include himself unconsciously, "I don't think that you understood me Dick – I said it's Bruce's turn to host, which means it's not always at the manor. All the little sub-families take their turns to play host, but I think that you could get away with being included in Bruce's turn if you wanted to join us on a regular basis." Dick breathed a sigh of relief, his apartment was comfortable, but not all that big.

Absently he made all the right noises as Barbara said goodbye and hung up. Hearing the kid's story had lessened a lot of the antagonism he had been feeling for the person inside the suit allowing Dick to think of the other things that Barbara had said a little more clearly. Obviously in his habitual stubbornness in refusing to talk to his adoptive father he had missed a lot more than he thought – especially if Terry was running Wayne Enterprises like Barbara had said. Dick couldn't bring himself to believe that someone wouldn't want Bruce's company, not when they were already running it. He completely ignored the fact that as Bruce's son and heir, he had never wanted the company either.

Another thing that had been bothering him for the entire conversation was Bruce's health. 'Both Terry and Barb said that Bruce wasn't in the best of health,' he mused. It was funny, but for some strange reason Dick had always thought of Bruce as immortal. There had been something about the man that he had lived with and fought beside for so many years that had felt larger than life. Looking back over the many arguments over the years, Dick now saw something with clarity that only comes with age and experience. He had built Bruce up into more than a man with faults and failings like everyone else - he had expected perfection from his guardian and not surprisingly been disappointed when Bruce had shown his flaws.

He had always accused Bruce of being the stubborn one, but it looked like some of the mule had rubbed off. 'Maybe, just maybe – it's time.' This 'family dinner' that Barbara mentioned might be the best time for Bruce and I to meet again, to salvage any relationship we have left with the other people there to act as a buffer for both of us. Also, he wouldn't mind seeing Tim again and meeting his family or seeing Barbara and Sam in a more relaxed setting than he usually met them in when their paths crossed due to their careers.

Dick grinned to himself, he had decided. He was going to the dinner – now he just hoped that they made enough food for an extra, because he didn't intend to call ahead.

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Tbc...