Dick and Bruce waited until they were down the stairs and inside the cave before either of them spoke. Dick decided to go first, but once the decision was in his head he couldn't think of a thing to say.

He was leaning on the computer and Bruce was sitting in the chair in front of it, his hands folded and his eyes examining them with more interest than was necessary.

"He's seventeen," came the whisper, and it was from Bruce.

Dick gripped the edge and kept his eyes on Bruce's hands. "I know, Bruce."

"Seventeen, Dick. Not twenty-seven, not twenty-one, not even twenty," he wrung his hands together and looked at Dick then with a glare.

Dick felt it, but didn't look up. He knew what Bruce wanted to hear. "I...."

"If you lay as much as a hand on him, Dick, I'll kill you."

Dick looked up then, with wide eyes.

Bruce didn't look away.

Dick swallowed. "I already have."

Bruce's eyes narrowed and his lips curled into an angry smile. "You know what I mean."

Dick tried to remind himself that he was an old man now, an adult, and shouldn't be frightened of the look Bruce refused to stop giving him. "You have no right to..."

"I have every right, seeing as how I found him first."

Dick made a noise that sounded like more of a choked cough than the laugh he'd intended and then shouted, "WHAT? You've been running from the kid every chance you could get and now you're sitting here telling me you have some sort of claim on him? What the hell, Bruce?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?"

Before Dick could shout more there was a ring and a screen popped up to reveal Barbara Gordon, looking amused. "Bruce, I didn't think you would answer."

Bruce smiled. "Just your luck."

Dick scowled, feeling like a whiny nineteen year-old but not at all caring. He had a suspicion that Barbara's call had not been coincidental, not with that knowing smile in her eyes. Not that he could prove it nor would make any difference to the situation.

Bruce finished off his call and told Babs he'd call her sometime the night morning to tell her of Terry's condition and once the screen was blank Bruce stood and stared Dick down. "You can see yourself out?"

Dick opened his mouth to reply but Bruce turned his back, leaving no room for discussion.

He may not be one of Bruce's "family" anymore, but he still respected him enough to let him end a fight.

The doctor came again a few days later, checking Terry over much more thoroughly and explaining that he'd broken his ribs in several places and possibly sprained his ankle.

"You'll need to stay abed for at least two weeks, if not more," he said to Terry while Bruce stood in the doorway. The doctor looked at Bruce, "I do wish he could be brought to the hospital Mr. Wayne. He..."

"That will be all, doctor."

The doctor, whose name Terry had never been told, nodded once and left the room. Terry was sure he was being paid handsomely for his little house calls and money was enough to put all ideas of "hospitals" out of his mind.

Terry turned and looked at Bruce, smiling. "What now?"

Bruce sighed. "I have no idea. The only logical option would be to feign my own grave injury and inform your mother of an extended stay, or adopt you," he smirked, "I'm still not clear which would be the preferred course of action."

Terry grinned. "Adopt me? Does that include a car, 500,000 creds, and some new schway designer clothes for my trouble?"

"If you're good."

"Oh, I can be real good if I know I'll get rewards after," Terry answered. When he suddenly realized what he just said and implied his cheeks burned, "Er...um...you know what I mean."

He looked at the comforter that covered him and heard Bruce's cane tapping towards him, but didn't look up until Bruce sat and lifted Terry's chin up so their eyes met.

"Know this: Dick Grayson has spent the last twenty years of his life regretting every decision he has ever made. When he was young he thought he was in love with me and I ignored every offer he ever made in that respect."

Terry swallowed. "Bruce I just..."

Bruce cut him off. "Know this: Dick Grayson spent the last four years he resided in this house wishing he was something he was not. It was not until he had left my care that I came to respect him as a man."

Terry reverted his eyes.

"Look at me, McGinnis," Terry's crystal blue eyes met his with dread and Bruce whispered, "Know this: You are not Dick Grayson," before pressing his lips to Terry's.

He was so surprised that it took Terry a minute to respond. Bruce's hand was on the back of his head and Terry put a hand on Bruce's cheek, deepening their kiss considerably.

Terry moved to get closer and winced, causing Bruce to pull back. "I didn't...did I hurt you?" he whispered looking worried.

Terry leaned back and let out his breath in a hiss. "No, you didn't do anything, it was me. I just...need to not move for a second."

He closed his eyes and let out another long, exhausted breath.

There was a movement on the bed. Terry's eyes shot open just as Bruce made to move and he grabbed his hand, keeping him there. "Stay."

Bruce licked at his mouth. "Okay."

Terry smiled. "Okay."

Terry sighed and closed his eyes again, squeezing Bruce's hand. He fell asleep that way and Bruce watched over him for four hours before succumbing to sleep as well, his head on the edge of the bed.