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.... I want to thank Bessie 1, flame guardian(), WhiteTigeress326, stephanieff(), Missy May, Jen() and Teri () who I haven't been able to send personal thanks to because I don't have their e-mail addresses. You comments and support and very much appreciated.
Leahblueeyes and Comesan my messages to you keep bouncing. I'm not sure why.
Chaos was the only word Tim could think of to describe Gotham. He had never seen anything like it, not even during the Clench… not even after the Earthquakes. The police and army were gradually losing control. Robin and Arsenal had stopped dozens of muggings, robberies and other crimes since they had taken to the streets, but it was a drop in the bucket... a drop in an ocean of crime. Each time the pair had interceded, the reactions of the thugs were the same. "If the kid's here, Batman must be alive!" However, when Batman failed to materialize, there was jubilance and then a renewed determination to fight back.
"We've lost the edge," Tim muttered as he bound his latest catch. Those who had never taken the step of breaking the law for fear of coming face to face with Gotham's avenging angel of the night were now out in force. Teenage gangs were roaming the streets looking for trouble without fear of reprisal. The police couldn't touch them. The courts would release them with a slap on the wrist. Batman, was whole different experience all together.
Arsenal glanced at the boy. "They're growing in confidence," he agreed. "Turning the tide isn't going to be easy."
"Batman could."
"He's only human, Robin… and I mean that. Only just barely human," Arsenal chuckled, trying to lift the boy's spirits.
Robin looked at the other man and realized he didn't understand. Very few people did. Batman could stop this anarchy simply by his presence. Robin had seen it before. He feared he may never see it again. The teenage hero raised his communicator. "Oracle, three more. They're on the corner of Fourth and Redland Streets. Send the boys in blue to collect them."
He waited for a reply. When it didn't come immediately, Tim licked his lips. For the last four hours he had been in contact with Barbara and the grief in her voice had been cutting him to the quick. She had tried to hide it, but Tim could sense the depths of her anguish. The teenager had come close to revealing Dick was alive in their last conversation.
"Roger that, Robin. We have reports of shots fired at the Melbourne Bank on South street. We have a gang going on a smashing spree in central Gotham. There are seventy-six calls for help across the city. We can't keep up," she whispered. "It's everywhere."
"We can only do what we can," Tim responded. They were words beyond his years, but leadership was being forced upon him as his adult partners struggled to deal with their emotions. Drake had come to realize that Dick Grayson was much more than just a friend, lover and son. He was literally the circuit breaker for the batclan. Nightwing could turn the darkest situation on its head with a single dry comment. He was Batman's one connection with happiness and sanity, Barbara's soulmate and Tim's best friend and brother. Without him, the soul had been wrenched from their group. The teenager recognized the same was true for Roy and the Titans. Dick was so much to so many people... and they all deserved to know he was alive!
Robin swallowed, trying to collect this thoughts and set his emotions aside. He was carrying a heavy burden, but soon he would be able to tell Dick's friends the truth. "Let's keep it together, gang," he encouraged. Just as he was lowering his communicator, he heard Barbara break into restrained sobs. "Oracle... it... it'll be okay."
"For Gotham maybe," she agreed, her voice horribly distorted. Gotham may recover, but she knew she never would.
Tim licked his lips. Arsenal took the communication device from his young partner's hand. "Arsenal and Robin moving to central Gotham. Arsenal out."
Tim cursed, smashing his fist into the nearest wall.
"Easy, Kid."
"It isn't right, Roy. She deserves to know. She loves him. How would you have felt if you found out he was alive and no one told you?"
Roy shrugged. "I'd be pissed off until it was pointed out to me that Dick was ill and the decision had been made in his best interests."
"I don't believe a word of that," Tim spat, turning to confront the older hero.
"You're probably right. I'd have wanted someone's blood. However, if we tell one, we need to tell all and we both saw Dick. He isn't up to that."
"Oracle's in love with him, Roy," Tim snarled.
"So are half of the women in the Titans," Arsenal started, apparently perplexed. "Don't understand why when they could have me. I mean, Robbie's nice enough, but he really isn't in my league. When it comes to charm, good looks and raw animal magnetism, I leave Robbie for dead."
A grin gradually spread over Tim's tired face as Roy's words achieved their objective. Arsenal clapped the younger man on the back. "We'll give Dick twenty-four hours and then you can tell Oracle, Robin. People always take it out on the messenger."
"Thanks a whole hell of a lot," Tim laughed.
Dick slept through until midday. When he woke, Leslie and Bruce assisted him down to the Batcave where he had x-rays and then he was returned to his room for a thorough examination by the doctor. Leslie had ushered Bruce from the room before starting, insisting that he would only be in the way. Wayne had left somewhat reluctantly.
As Leslie removed her stethoscope from Dick's chest after half an hour of probing and prodding, she paused and eyed him critically.
"What?" he asked, innocently.
Leslie shook her head at the baby blues flashing at her. Thankfully, after fifteen years, she was quite impervious to 'that' look. "The river didn't do all of this," she accused.
Grayson's face screwed up thoughtfully and then he buttoned his shirt around himself. His actions were slow and greatly restricted by his battered body. Walking down to the cave had taken a lot out of him, but for the first time, his mind felt clear.
"Your knuckles are bruised which means you've been using them without the protection of your gloves." She waited. "Well?"
Dick shrugged and grimaced immediately. Movement of any kind caused waves of pain to wash over him.
"I want to know, young man."
Her patient snorted with amusement.
"I'm not asking again." The tone was that particular one that all parents could produce when performing an inquisition.
Dick grinned. She had always been able to get the truth out of him. "About a day out of Gotham, I came across six men in the wasteland. On the run by the look of them. Good place to hide from the law out there. Bruce would probably be surprised what he'd find if he took a run out there. Anyway, they thought I was one of the monks and decided to have some 'fun'. Normally it wouldn't have been a problem but..."
"But you were injured," Leslie finished.
"Got the better of them in the end, but not before they worked me over pretty good."
"And you chose not to share this because...?" she asked.
Dick shrugged again and this time yelped. "I gotta stop doing that," he complained, panting.
"Don't change the subject."
Grayson scowled in frustration. "Come on, Leslie. If I'd told Bruce that I'd been attacked by a group of thugs he'd..."
"He'd have gone out there and taken them apart piece by piece."
"Bingo. And right now, he doesn't need the aggravation. He looks dreadful."
Leslie sat down beside the young man and picked up his hand. "He stopped living for ten days, son. I know he's about as articulate as a marble statue.. and that's on a good day..." Dick grinned. "... but he loves you and to be honest, he simply didn't cope." She sighed long and deep. "He is a complex man. I want you to know that within months of taking you in, he changed dramatically. Changed for the better," she added. "Like Alfred, I was against him becoming your guardian, but he was determined. In you, he saw himself and he didn't want you to turn into what he was."
"I guess he failed then," Dick muttered, eyeing his own stubbled reflection in the mirror. He really needed to shave.
Leslie smiled. "On the contrary, despite all the odds you turned out okay."
Dick smirked at her. "Just okay? Not better than okay?"
"Don't push it, young man."
Dick rubbed his eyes as fatigue blanketed him again. "Feel like a new born calf," he grumbled.
"You need to rest. You aren't going to get over this over night, young man. I know you honestly believe you are indestructible, but you're not. Your body has been through great trauma and it needs time to repair itself. If you were anyone else I'd have you in hospital for a month. As it is, I'm prescribing a week of bed rest followed by a second week confined to the Manor where Alfred can keep an eye on you. Then we'll re-evaluate your condition."
She waited for some witty comeback or complaint. Instead his brow furrowed with great concern. "Back to Bruce."
"Physically, he's fine, son. He didn't eat for quite some time, that's all. I've forced a couple of decent meals into him since I've arrived so we should begin to see some improvements soon. Relax. He's as tough as they come. Speaking of food, it's about time I got you to eat something."
"Sounds good. First, I need to get rid of some of that water you keep forcing down my throat. Must think I'm a fish!"
He struggled to his feet with Leslie's help, wrapped one arm across his injured ribs and headed for the bathroom. When he exited a few moments later, he moved slowly to the window and stared out over the Manor grounds. His eyes lit up with genuine happiness when he spotted the horses grazing. He honestly envied their simple lives. His was so complicated these days.
As Dick turned from the window, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Grayson paused, his attention captured completely. Leslie watched his already ashen complexion pale visibly.
"Dick?" the doctor asked, hastily moving to his side. She followed the line of his gaze and her breath caught in her throat. Before she could comment, Dick spun around and moved swiftly toward the door. "Dick?" Leslie called after him. For several seconds she contemplated how to handle this and then she rushed after him.
By the time she reached the top of the stairs he was disappearing out the front door. How he had moved that swiftly in his condition she didn't know, but then it wasn't the first time he had amazed her like this. Leslie called after him but it was clear he had no intention of stopping.
Bruce appeared from the study. "What is it?"
Dick stopped directly in front of the small wooden cross and his brow furrowed while his mouth set in a deep frown. He stared with narrowed eyes at the stake standing alone under the tree close to the stables. It was a strange feeling looking at his own name carved into a cross. For several seconds he was mesmerized, looking at something very few people ever got to see – their own headstone.
Footsteps approached from his right. Bruce stopped beside the silent man. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, both absorbed by what the symbol represented.
"I'm sorry," Dick whispered.
"None of it matters, now. You're here."
Dick shook his head. It did matter. He didn't know what to say. He had recognized that Bruce would think he was dead, but he hadn't expected this. He could only imagine what Bruce had gone through. If it had been the other way around, and he had thought that Bruce had died... Grayson couldn't even finish the thought.
The pale young man stepped forward, grabbed the cross, yanked it out of the ground and tossed it to the side. There was no anger in the movement, but there was a very real finality.
"We won't be needing that, Bruce. I have no intention of going anywhere." The words were soft and the tone reflected the emotion he felt. The fact that Bruce had erected the cross here had significant meaning for Dick. It was on this very spot that Bruce had asked him if he wanted to stay at Wayne Manor permanently. He had known from the beginning that living with Bruce and Alfred had only been temporary - the social worker had told him that repeatedly. There was no way a single man would be given custody of a traumatized child who had witnessed the death of his parents. When Bruce had brought him out here to sit under the old elm tree only a few minutes after having a shouting match with a group of lawyers and social workers, Dick had honestly thought it had been to tell him that he had to leave...
Bruce indicated for Dick to sit. The little boy swallowed and followed the instruction, sinking down on the cool grass under the tree. He felt so scared again. The last four weeks had been the worst in his life, but Bruce and Alfred had shown him so much kindness. He felt safe when Bruce was around. He knew Bruce understood how he felt because the quietly spoken billionaire had lost his parents when he was a child.
Wayne sat down too, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He picked up a leaf, curled it and then blew through it. The shrill whistle echoed in the open area. He handed the leaf to Dick and encouraged him to have a go. No words were exchanged. For some reason the pair didn't seem to need verbal cues to communicate. Grayson accepted the leaf in his small trembling hand. He had never heard Bruce shout before, but he had clearly heard several roared phrases through the crack under his bedroom door . "I will not accept that. You can't just take him away!... Then I'll see you in court!"
"When I was your age, I used to climb this tree," Bruce stated in the hushed tone that Dick had become accustomed to. "My mum and dad warned me that I'd fall but I never did." Bruce paused. He wasn't sure how to go about any of this. Maybe the social worker was right. He didn't know the first thing about raising a child. The billionaire looked down on the eight year old boy beside him. Dick's eyes were wide, his young face a blanket of worry. In that instant, Bruce dismissed the doubts. He may not know anything about raising children, but he knew in his heart that he was the only person who would be able to provide this particular child with the support and understanding he needed. "Relax, son. You're not in any trouble. I just wanted to talk to you. Do you like it here?"
Dick swallowed and shrugged. "I guess." His small heart was thundering in his chest. If they took him away, where would he have to go?
"Dick, I know I can never replace your parents and I know that Wayne Manor is no Haley's circus, but I hope you have felt welcome and happy here. " Dick's fear turned to confusion as his eyes brimmed with tears. He had no idea of what was going on. He just wished that everything would go back to the way it was, but he knew that was impossible.
Bruce laid his hand on the child's shoulder. "Alfred and I have been very happy since you've come to stay with us and if you agree, I'd like to make it permanent. I'd like you to live with us. What do you say? You don't have to, son. If you want to go…"
Dick launched himself into Bruce's arms and tears burst from his eyes.
Bruce was startled by the reaction. For a split second he froze, and then he wrapped the sobbing child in his arms. "Easy, chum. Easy. So, you want to stay with us?" It was important that he confirmed the child's wishes. The fight ahead would not be an easy one and would only be successful if Dick truly did want to remain in Bruce's care.
Dick's small arms encircled Bruce's neck and he held on tightly – held on like he'd never let go.
Bruce smiled with relief. He had hoped that Dick would choose to stay. "I'll take that as a 'yes', will I?" Gently he eased the child down onto his lap. "Yes?"
Dick nodded, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. "I thought you'd say I had to go."
"No one is going to make you go anywhere you don't want to. " Even if it took every cent he had, Bruce was determined to fight to the very end to keep this little boy. "It isn't official yet and we will have to go through court, but somehow we'll stay together. Okay?"
Dick nodded again. For several seconds they stared at each other - looking directly into the other's soul. Without warning, Bruce thrust his right hand out between them. Dick understood immediately. He laid his over the top and gripped Bruce's hand. Wayne placed his huge left hand on top of Dick's tiny fist and the child followed suit. Bruce's face became serious. "No matter what happens in the future, I will always be there for you, son. I promise."....
From that moment on, Dick's life became stable again. Gradually the pain of his parents' death eased to a dull ache and the emotional limbo he had been in was eroded by trust and a good helping of love.
Every time Dick came out here and stood under this tree he remembered that moment. He remembered the overwhelming relief and the great affection he had seen in Bruce's eyes that day. Bruce had tried to keep his promise, too. Perhaps not as successfully as he would have liked, but he had certainly tried.
Grayson clapped Wayne on the upper arm as he turned and walked towards the open paddock.
Bruce released a long breath. The cross he couldn't quite remember constructing lay discarded several feet from him. For the past few moments he had been reviewing exactly the same moment in time as Dick. It was here under the elm that Dick had agreed to enter his life. The billionaire's world had changed completely that day and Bruce thanked God for it.
Wayne stared down at the symbol of his loss. His heart rate increased rapidly as all of the pain and grief returned. Without conscious thought Bruce stamped down in the middle of the cross. Finality! The release of anger and a multitude of other emotions felt wonderful. The splintering sound of the timber echoed the release of tension in Wayne's body. Until now, he really hadn't considered anything except the fact that his son was home.
Across from him, he heard Dick whistle. Bruce glanced at the slightly hunched man who was leaning against a fence he had helped to erect, both arms across his chest to support his tightly bandaged ribs. The thundering of hoofs filled the air as Alegre galloped up toward his owner. The animal thrust its head through the fence and jammed it into Dick's chest. Bruce grinned.
"Owwww. Easy there, fella. You'll knock me over." The horse dipped its head again and shoved Dick. "Yeah, it's good to see you too." Dick caressed the animal fondly. "Come on, let's go for a walk. I could use some fresh air, but we'll have to take it slowly. I feel like I've been used as a punching bag." Gingerly he climbed though the rails and headed off with the horse.
Bruce's grin matured into a full smile. He watched his son, dressed in a pair of pyjamas, make his way down to the small creek, the huge black and white horse nudging him as they walked.
Wayne's chest quivered. It was like it had all never happened. Despite everything he had been told, unconsciously Bruce had never truly accepted that Dick was dead. Something deep down inside of him had refused to let go. It was more than just his need to have Dick around. It was something else. Something he and Dick had shared from the very first look they had exchanged. On that dreadful night when Dick had witnessed his parents' murder, Batman had approached the child, their eyes had met and their souls had touched. Bruce knew the child's pain and felt it to his core. Dick had sensed the understanding - he had found a kindred spirit.
Since that day, the pair had shared a bond that others could never understand and while logic had insisted that Dick was dead, and Bruce had allowed himself to acknowledge it, Wayne had still been able to sense the nebulous connection to his soul. A connection that had forced him to continue to look for his son on the plain leading to Gotham despite reason and common sense dictating that it was impossible for Dick to appear there - but he had.
Alegre's jet black coat shone, reflecting the midday sun equally as well as the small stream he was nimbly walking beside. Dick stared into the slowly flowing water as it jumped and danced over the rocks before tumbling into a deeper pool. This was his favourite place in the world. It was shrouded in trees and almost hidden from the outside world. The crystal clear waters were freezing and were so deep that he had never been able to dive to the bottom despite numerous attempts and a long-standing challenge with Bruce. It was here some ten years ago that Alfred had dared Dick to push Bruce in. While others weren't prepared to incur the wrath of Batman, it didn't worry Dick. He knew the man that was hidden behind that tough, emotionless exterior. On the day in question, Bruce had been in one of his dark moods and had only come down to the creek to locate Alfred. The butler had whispered the challenge and Dick had accepted readily.
The memory left a smile of satisfaction on Grayson's face. Wayne had dragged himself up the bank, his hair matted to his head, water cascading down his face. Not a word passed his tight lips as he made his way out of the water, glaring at Dick until the teenager had tackled him, taking him back into the pool a second time. After that, a great many words were roared and echoed in the peaceful area - none of which could be repeated in polite company.
Alfred had laughed so hard that day that he'd started choking and had to be rescued from the water.
As the memory faded, Dick reflected on just how long ago it was since he had enjoyed those days of innocence.
Bruce walked up to Dick. "Still haven't hit the bottom?"
"No. Not sure we ever will." His soft voice echoed a great sadness. There had been a time when he had honestly thought that it was possible... that everything in life was possible if you tried hard enough. Maturity had taught him how naive that was.
"When you feel up to it, I'd like to spend some time here again."
Grayson glanced at the older man, curiously. It wasn't what he had expected. In Wayne's blue eyes he saw turmoil. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Bruce dismissed, turning and stoking Alegre's head. "We really should go riding together more."
"Sounds good, but life doesn't present as much time as either of us would like," Dick pointed out.
"We need to change that, Dick. We have to." Again Bruce searched for the words he needed. "I have been so wound up in my life and what I wanted to achieve that I haven't really taken the time to... you and I haven't..." He was cut off by the screaming of his cell phone. For a split second he ignored it as he stared into Dick's bruised and confused face. Why was this so hard? The phone continued to ring, shattering the atmosphere. Finally, Bruce dug it from his pocket - part of him relieved, part frustrated.
"I better head back, Bruce. I'm feeling pretty tired."
Bruce nodded his understanding and watched Dick lead the horse back through the trees. "Hello!" Wayne snapped into the phone.
"Batman, all hell has broken loose in Gotham and..."
"I am sure that the police have a plan for dealing with it, Robin." Without waiting for a response, Bruce ended the call. He stood alone in the shadow of the trees, his head doing battle with his heart. Roy's words continued to repeat over and over again in his mind... For Christ's sake, you replaced him. Not just Robin. You adopted Jason...The hell he understood...Is it so hard for you to show him?... You replaced him... the hell he understood.... you replaced him.... the hell he understood...
Bruce squeezed his eyes shut. Was Roy right? Did Dick understand? Bruce was drowning in confusion and helplessness. There was so much he needed to say to his son, but he honestly didn't know where to start. Perhaps he should make a list?
When Bruce returned to the house, Dick was asleep. Leslie ushered Wayne out of resting man's room. "Don't wake him," she ordered. "He never should have gone off like that. It's too much too soon."
"So, did he tell you what happened?" Bruce asked.
Leslie eyed him curiously. "To what are you referring?"
Bruce frowned. "I'm not blind, Leslie. I was prepared to believe it was all a result of the river until I noticed his knuckles."
"Ahh. He didn't want to tell you," she admitted.
"I'm asking you to," Bruce requested. "I think I have a right to know."
"What transpires between a patient and his doctor..."
"Don't give me that, Leslie. I'm not asking you anything he won't tell me if I ask."
Leslie thought about it and then relayed the story. She waited for the explosive reaction Dick had predicted, but Wayne's face remained completely blank... eerily calm. "Stay with him. I need to go out for a while."
"Bruce, I'm not sure that is such a good idea. Why don't you..." But he was gone.
Leslie and Alfred watched the helicopter lift above Wayne Manor and arc west toward the wasteland. Leslie shook her head. Alfred sighed. "He must do what he sees fit. To be honest, I hope he pounds them to a pulp."
"Alfred!" Leslie cried, genuinely startled.
"I make no excuse for my comment, Leslie. What they did to Master Dick is inexcusable. I only regret that I will not be there to see it."
Leslie was stunned. She hadn't realized how deeply this was still affecting him. She, better than anyone, knew the great love Alfred had for both Dick and Bruce. The doctor slipped her arm around her longtime friend's back. "Dick is just fine, Alfred. I have no doubt that he will be causing problems for the two of us soon enough."
Alfred nodded. "We won't be able to keep him in that bed for much longer."
"I know." Leslie's thoughts returned to Bruce. "Thankfully, there is a lot of ground out there. He'll never find them."
"He has infrared tracking installed on the chopper. If there is anything alive out there, he'll find it." Alfred had seen the look on Bruce's face and he recognized it. Nothing would stop the billionaire tracking down the men who had attacked his boy. Nothing in this world and probably nothing in the next.
"He didn't go as Batman," Leslie noted.
The skin around Alfred's grey eyes wrinkled with concern. "I know."
"I shouldn't have told him," Leslie murmured with regret.
"He would have found out. Besides, he is simply going to explain the error of their ways," Alfred offered. "Painful, but superbly effective."
© 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.