DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. Nightwing and all of his friends belongs to DC comics. I'd be a happy woman if Dick belonged to me...but no such luck. I have not made any profit out of writing this, so please don't sue me. It would not be worth your while.
Author Comment: Thank you to my wonderful beta, Jean whose comments force me to examine my writing. There are a number of spelling, grammar and punctuation differences between Australia and the USA... please forgive me for writing with an accent. (g)
WARNING: I have nooooo medical knowledge. There are likely to be inaccuracies in this story. I hope you can enjoy it despite this.
Special Thanks: Thank you to all those people who have left such wonderful feedback. Some of you haven't left your e-mail addresses so I haven't been able to thank you. I just want you to know that your kind words mean so much.
Alfred watched Bruce blink the memory away. His eyes were moist and he shook his head yet again. Wayne just couldn't come to terms with it. "I'm going for a walk," he mumbled.
"Make sure you put on something warm or..." but Bruce had disappeared. Alfred sighed, reached for the two plates on the table and began to clean up. There was no sense fighting Bruce. He wasn't ready to eat.
Some time later, Alfred entered the small stable behind the main house. Bruce was brushing down Alegre, a beautiful black horse with a mind of its own. He had given it to Dick for his fifteenth birthday. Wayne's hand paused as his mind wandered back. He remembered that day - he remembered everything about it. It was all so clear. The party. Leading Dick outside. Watching the boy's eyes pop with wonderment when the stable hand had rounded the corner with the graceful animal. Bruce even remembered when Dick had named the horse, Alegre. It was Spanish for high-spirited. Dick had loved the horse. Despite moving to Bludhaven, he'd made regular trips back to the Manor to see Alegre. Wayne's eyes shut slowly. There was so much he regretted. Why hadn't he taken the time to come out when he knew Dick was here? He couldn't remember the last time they'd ridden together.
The beautiful black horse shifted uncomfortably. It knew something was wrong. The animal swung its head toward the door where it could see the open plain leading back to Gotham. Like Bruce, the horse was looking for Dick to appear out there as he often had in the past.
"I've cut the apple pie," Alfred stated, quietly. "Are you almost finished?"
"Just have to put their blankets on." He didn't have to. The Manor stable hand would be arriving shortly to do it but for some reason it was through the horse, that Bruce had found a connection to Dick. Alfred assisted his friend to prepare the three horses for the night and then the pair headed back to the house.
After Alfred had eaten some pie, the two men turned in for the night. Just as the elderly man was about to turn out the light, he heard footsteps in the hall. He rose and peered out into the darkness. Bruce was standing at the door of Dick's room, his huge frame motionless. Even in the limited light, Alfred could see the silent tears streaming down the strong man's cheeks. Alfred fought the urge to say something. He wanted to put his arms around Bruce as he had when he was a child. He wanted to protect him, but Alfred knew that there was only one path back and Bruce had to find that himself.
It was two o'clock in the morning before Bruce finally went to bed. He lay staring up at the ceiling for hours. When he drifted off, his slumber was restless as the incident... more correctly, Dick's face, kept replaying over and over again in his strangled mind. Dick's hand slipping through his fingers. Dick disappearing under the water. Dick's intense blue eyes sending a message of unconditional love
At dawn, Alfred rose to discover Wayne's bed empty. The butler's heart ached as he padded across to the window. Bruce was exactly where Alfred expected him to be - crouched in front of the cross that bore Dick's name. Wayne's attention wasn't focused on the small, crude memorial, however. He was staring out at the empty plain that led back to Gotham. Alfred shook his head. He knew that Bruce was clinging to the desperate hope that Dick would miraculously appear and wander up to house with his long relaxed strides and call of, "Howdy, fellas. Just happened to be passin'." It was something of a private joke between the three of them. After Batman had sacked Robin the night that the Joker had almost taken the boy's life, Dick had walked away.... or had been driven away by the perceived rejection. It was immaterial now. In the months that followed, the teenager hadn't made any contact with his family and then one day out of the blue, the outer security alarms had sounded and Alfred and Bruce had spotted their prodigal son walking across the open greens towards the stables. They had met him there and he had mumbled something about the fact that he just happened to be passing the Manor and had decided to drop in to see Alegre. That, of course, was absurd as it was impossible to simply be passing the Manor. The property was miles out of Gotham at the end of a lonely road that led nowhere else.
Years later, after Bruce and Dick had smoothed their relationship a little, Dick had started using the phrase sarcastically and finally affectionately. He usually parked his bike at the gates and walked across the property. He insisted it was just to stretch his legs after the long ride from New York and more recently Bludhaven, but Alfred knew the real reason why he did it. This was Dick's home. When he came, his visits were usually shorter than he would like. Dick Grayson had loved the Manor. He'd loved the wide open spaces that had been his backyard as a child. He'd loved the fresh air out here, something that one couldn't find in Gotham itself... or in Bludhaven. More than anything else, Dick had loved the peace and quiet of the Manor grounds and so he had developed a habit of walking up from the gate, heading to the stables and only then visiting the house and its occupants. Knowing that the Manor security would have picked up his presence, he would wave in the direction of the house and call out at the top of his lungs, 'Howdy, fellas. Just happened to be passin'. I'll be up shortly.' Then he would disappear into the stables and go riding for anything up to hour before finally reappearing.
Bruce stared out at the open grounds, his mind playing an image of Dick strolling casually toward him. 'Howdy, fellas. Just happened to be passin'.
VVVVVVVVVV
Alfred strode slowly toward the phone, praying it wasn't someone else ringing to convey their sympathies. The words 'I'm sorry,' had never sounded so empty to the elderly man. He knew that was harsh, but sorry didn't take away the pain. Sorry certainly didn't bring Dick back.
"Wayne residence." At first, there was no answer. "Hello?"
"Alf, it's Tim. I... um...." Tim floundered. He didn't know what to say... hadn't known what to say for two weeks.
"How are you, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked, pleased to hear the boy's voice.
"Yeah, I'm good. Well, no... I mean... Alfred, I'm so tired. I can't do it on my own." The admission flooded from him. He hadn't slept for days. The streets of Gotham were out of control and Batman's absence was the talk of the underworld.
Alfred drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "The others? They are not assisting you?"
"No. Oracle is... she's switched off her computer, Alfred. If feel like I'm working blind out here. I had no idea how much I depended on her. Catwoman has disappeared completely. I spoke to Huntress yesterday but... she's not dealing with all of it. She's really angry and I had to pull her off some guys a couple of nights ago. I hate to think what would have happened if hadn't been there."
"And Miss Cassandra?"
"Needed to get away. She's gone to some spiritual place... don't remember what it was called. I'm on own here and... normally I'd call... but I can't." Tim's voice broke. Normally when things became unbearable, he'd simply call Dick and Nightwing would drop everything and come to stand with him. "God, I miss him so much." So much and on so many different levels. Dick had been more than a brother in arms. Working with Batman was an experience all of its own that couldn't be compared to anything else. However, working with Dick wasn't like working. They had so much fun. No one else would understand that one could have fun while facing some of the most dangerous criminals on the planet, but Dick had understood and they'd enjoyed every moment. "God, I miss him," Tim repeated softly.
Alfred bit down on his own lip to maintain control. "We all do."
Tim wanted to come and visit Bruce and Alfred but like Cassie, Catwoman and Helena he was unable to deal with Bruce at the moment. Had their leader been aggressive and angry, they could have coped, but Bruce was grieving in a way that left the others at a loss. That was why they had kept their distance. It wasn't that they were walking out on their companion, it was just that they needed space to grieve themselves. Dick Grayson had been their friend too. As for Oracle, she was shattered.
Following Nightwing's disappearance it had been Robin who had been left the task of putting the emergency plan into action. Dick Grayson's death needed to be explained to protect the Batclan's secret. Alone, Tim had set things in motion. He reported Dick missing and then pushed his friend's beloved motorcycle into the raging river. Two days later it had been discovered washed up on the bank. Commissioner Gordon had delivered the tragic news to Alfred as Bruce was not receiving visitors. Between them Tim and Alfred had arranged the funeral. A lot of Dick's hero friends were absent, most still trying to help in their home towns. Only Wally, Roy, Donna and Garth had made the trip. The original Titans. Dick's four closest friends whom he'd grown up with. All but Roy had been devastated. Roy Harper had reacted differently. His response was unadulterated rage. Wally, Garth and Donna had restrained him when he had started yelling his grief and questioning where Bruce was. "He's busy, is he? That self-centered, self-righteous bastard, couldn't find the time to come and pay his respects?! Dick loved that mongrel. Even after everything that bastard did to him, Dick still loved him." There had been more. The statements had shocked the large group of mourners. All in all, it had been an ugly scene. However, the words verbalized the thoughts of many. Just why wasn't Bruce Wayne present? Roy's outpouring of emotion had ended only once his energy left him and he had collapsed into the arms of his three oldest freinds. The trio had enfolded him in their love to provide whatever comfort they could. "Why?" Roy had kept sobbing. "Why, Dick?"
"It's never going to be the same again, is it?" Tim whispered.
"No, son, it won't. But it will get better," Alfred assured him.
"How's Bruce?"
Alfred didn't answer immediately. How could he possibly explain in a way someone else would understand? "He's dying inside. He just can't let go." Lines of anguish bit into Alfred's pale face. Too little sleep and too much worry had left dark rings under his eyes.
"He's finally realized how much Dick meant to him, " Tim murmured, his thoughts taking voice.
"Not, finally. He's always known. He just never allowed it to be a conscious thought." How little others knew of Bruce, Alfred reflected. Even Tim didn't truly know the man Batman kept hidden. The only other person who had was Dick... and he was gone.
"I wish he'd told him, Alfred." Tim knew how much it would have meant to Dick just to hear Bruce say those three little words all family long to hear from each other. They weren't that difficult to say and yet, they appeared to be an impossibility for Bruce. "If only he'd... God, I wish he'd told him."
"So does he, young man. So does he," Alfred admitted with great difficulty.
"I guess it will take a long time for him to accept that Dick's gone."
Alfred blinked and a single tear fell onto his cheek, balanced there for several seconds and then tumbled down his face. "I'm not sure he can." For Bruce to admit that Dick was dead would be to admit that his reason for living... as opposed to existing... was gone. If that happened, Alfred knew that Bruce Wayne would curl up and die. Alfred had watched Bruce shut the world out after the death of his parents... and he had watched intrigued as a small boy shattered the shield and infiltrated Bruce's heart. No one else had been able to. Alfred doubted that anyone would ever again.
VVVVVVVVVV
Many miles away....
"Wally? Wally?" Linda asked. The two were sitting together looking into the small creek. Here Wally could almost forget the devastation he'd seen. The world was still recovering, but he had needed a few moments to himself. Then he would return to doing what he could to help all those in need.
"Wally?"
"Huh?" he glanced at Linda. Water was still dripping from her raven hair after their swim.
His wife's deep brown eyes searched his pained face. "You were a million miles away."
Wally stared back at the creek. "Trying to forget... or maybe remember. I don't know."
Linda threaded her arm through his and dropped her head onto the handsome man's shoulder. She loved him with her whole heart and it tore her apart to see him grieving. "You miss him?"
"Yeah, I do. He was my best friend. We spent our childhood together and when my life became a mess, he was the strength I used to get through it." The words were said softly and slowly as he reflected on each and every one.
"I'm so sorry."
"Yeah. I've lost friends and family before, but... there was something about Nightwing that was invincible. His attitude maybe, I don't know. He had an inner strength." Tears welled in Wally's eyes. "I don't know how we're all going to go on without him."
VVVVVVVVVV
In a rundown section of Gotham where the scum of the Earth frequented...
"And that, my dear friends, is gin." The other men at the table all cursed and grumbled as Roy won yet another hand.
"You got the luck of the Irish, mister."
"Yes, lady luck is certainly smiling on me today." The group of card players stood and moved off, leaving Roy and the considerable pot. The Titan stared at the money. The false smile left his lips. He had done nothing but win since he had arrived three days earlier. This was where he'd come after the funeral. There had been a time when a winning streak such as this would have sent him into raptures of happiness. Why then, did he feel nothing but empty? The money, or more importantly, the ability to outmanoeuvre and outthink his opposition didn't seem to mean anything anymore.
Across the room, a man with dark hair stood, made his apologies for having to leave so early and made his way toward the door. Roy shut his eyes. How many times had he seen Dick do the same thing? Grayson was always the first to leave when the gang got together for a night out. He'd had so many commitments and yet he always found time for his friends. Like when he'd dropped everything to travel to the UK to help Roy find his daughter. Dick had always been there for him. Hell, Dick had been one of the people who had helped him seek help when he'd found his life screwed up by drugs. At the time, Roy hadn't appreciated it, but now he truly understood the term 'hard love.' Grayson had refused to give up on him. Roy owed him so much.
Harper shook his head unconsciously. All his life he had searched for a place he belonged and friends he could depend on. It had taken him a long time to realize that he had both with Donna, Dick, Wally and Garth. They were family. No matter what the geographical distance between them, or the time that would elapse between get-togethers, the moment they were together, it was like they'd never been apart. Now, a member of Roy's family was gone and Roy Harper didn't know how to deal with the loss. He honestly hadn't realized how much Dick had meant to him, nor how much pain it would cause him to see Donna grieving. He had found he needed to leave everyone and be on his own - get away and try to drag himself out the void that was swallowing him. Roy had been so certain that a few days of gambling would see his equilibrium return. Then he would be in a position to help his friends deal with their grief. He missed Lian terribly but right now, he needed to get his head right so he could be the father she deserved. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be helping. Maybe he just needed a few more days?
"Mind if I join you?"
Roy opened his eyes. A well dressed man in a silk shirt smiled at the unshaven hero. Instantly, the artificial smile automatically appeared on Harper's face. "Of course my friend. What is your pleasure?"
VVVVVVVVVV
In the ancient Mountains of the Kaowia People...
"You seem deeply troubled," Kojay stated as he and the young woman seeking help walked through the wilderness. Kojay was a Native American. Cassandra had met him many years before... before she had joined Batman's crusade. She had come here to understand her own grief. She didn't know how to articulate it.
"Lost," Cassandra replied. She felt dreadfully lost but didn't know how to put her feelings into words. Her father's strict and atypical parenting style of not allowing her to speak hindered her when it came to expressing herself. "Nightwing was good friend."
"But I thought you believed when your kind die they go to be with your God?" Kojay believed in many Gods but understood that Cassie believed in only one.
"Miss him," she admitted. She accepted that Dick had gone to a better place, but that didn't change the ache she felt.
Kojay nodded. "It is not easy."
"No."
"From what you have told me, he died bravely. He will be rewarded. He was a good man."
Cassie glanced at the grey-haired Indian. "The best."
"Batman. How is he?"
Cassandra stopped walking. "Why?"
Kojay raised each of his hands and then laced the fingers. "Their souls are like this. When one is removed..." Kojay removed his left hand, "the other feels like only half. Only together are they whole. Such soul brothers are rare, but your partners Batman and Nightwing are two of the strongest I have ever heard about. They probably aren't even aware of the connection they share."
"Soul brothers? Father and son."
"Age does not play a part. When souls are connected they are connected and are called soul brothers."
Cassie reflected on the fact that they had shared common tragedies as children. "They the same." She cursed her inability to communicate more effectively.
Kojay nodded gently. He understood what she meant. "Their souls know and understand each other. Now that one soul has moved on, the other must try to cope with only being half of what he is supposed to be."
Cassie stared at the elderly Indian. "How help?"
Kojay sighed. "You can't."
Her eyes pleaded for him to provide her with something... anything she could do to help Bruce.
"He must decide."
"Decide what?"
"Whether to stay and try to go on, or to follow his soul brother and join him in the next world."
Cassandra leaned back against the tree behind her and slowly sank to the ground. For the first time she understood what was going on. Bruce wanted to follow Dick... which meant Cassie was going to lose not only another friend, but her new mentor.
VVVVVVVVVV
PART FOUR COMING SOON
© August 2004 Aussie Nightwriter. : This relates only to the creative property in this story. The distinctive way the story unfolds, the specific dialogue and unique situations are mine. I acknowledge that some of the characters and settings belong to DC comics. (g) No infrigement of copyright was intended and no profit has been made from this story... so, please don't sue me. It wouldn't be worth your while.