Disclaimer and notes in part one.

Masquerade

Part Ten

The next few hours were some of the tensest the Cave had ever seen which, to Dick, was saying a lot after everything that had happened under Wayne Manor. The Drakes stayed by their son's side, never talking, but never breaking contact with the young man. Bruce stood a respectful distance apart carefully monitoring Tim's vitals. It was a delicate time for Tim's body and any problems that may occur had to be dealt with instantly. Alfred kept himself busy with dusting, something Dick found entertaining since the Cave never honestly had dust. Dick also felt that Tim would appreciate the butler's neurotic behavior and so found it fitting. Dick, who felt rather useless in comparison to Bruce and Alfred, sat at the Bat Computer, a safe distance away from the sick bay room.

He'd called Barbara to let her know about Tim's situation and, after that call, found himself searching for all articles pertaining to Mike Gardenee. The man had landed himself into a heap of trouble now and Dick wanted revenge. The vigilant felt guilt still grow within him and his neglect to follow through better with Gardenee. If he had done a better job there was a chance Tim wouldn't be in the position he was now. However, one of the things, Dick had truly learned from Bruce was not to let guilt consume you. This he had learned through watching Bruce allow guilt to consume him, of course.

Every time Bruce felt responsible for someone's injury or death, Dick saw it eat him alive and witnessed some of Batman's worst hours. And so, due to this, Dick allowed the guilt to be pushed aside and focused on bringing Gardenee to justice. Once that was finished, then he would think long and hard about his shortcomings.

The problem with Gardenee was that the man was really a nobody in the crime world and so very few connections, or at least connections Dick felt were reliable, came through during his searching. Mike would have to be found the old fashion way: through stakeouts. Stakeouts were something Dick dreaded because often they were utterly boring when one didn't have any sort of tip and, with Gardenee, Dick had no tips. He would have to sit and watch Mike's apartment and hope the man was foolish enough to come home to the same place. One nice thing about dealing with small criminal was that they usually were quite foolish.

Leaving his searches open so Bruce knew what he was doing, Dick grabbed his Nightwing mask and left the Cave on one of the spare bikes.

It was time for Mike to gets his dues.

…….

Mike Gardenee, assuming the Drake kid had been taken care of, felt a weight lifted off his shoulder. Every time things got dirty with clients, Mike laid-low for a few days till he knew the police weren't going to be on his case. So far, Gardenee hadn't had any troubles with those families that he didn't get the money from. Usually the desperate family member found any way possible to pay Mike back before the deadline. Sometimes, of course, they didn't and Gardenee took care of them like with the Drakes. After that, he never heard from them again and, no doubt, those unlucky few simply fell into some sort of depression.

Mike didn't care what happened to those involved with him, all he wanted was his money and if he didn't get that, then he wanted to make people suffer. So, he did just that. Jack Drake didn't follow the rules and the price was paid. Business was business after all. The kid of Drake's was merely a pawn in Mike's business ventures. Now it was time to put Jack behind him and move forward to his next client.

Gardenee stepped into his pent house apartment and smiled. It was good to be home. After his run in with Nightwing, Mike stationed men outside his home to be safe. Obviously, the Drake kid had friends in high places and, for once, it would pay to be a little more cautious. In another two days, Gardenee knew everything would blow over as Drakes moved out of town and the millionaire Wayne got bored hunting for a dead teenager. Until then, though, the men would stay and Mike would just remain in his home to be safe.

The thing that Mike hadn't counted on was the Bat Family rule. A few paid bodyguards, though considered effective to Gardenee, were nothing for the prowess of an angry Nightwing. By the time Gardenee entered his apartment, Nightwing was the only things waiting for him.

Mike switched on his lamp and headed towards his desk. Time was money and he needed to get back to work. There were outstanding loans that had to be recovered. As he looked over the messages sitting on his desk, Gardenee heard someone step behind him.

"Is the Drake kid taken care of?" He asked assuming Mic or Hal had returned. Mike turned and found himself staring into a large, black chest, with a small blue symbol located on it that he had seen only days before in much the same manner.

"He's being taken care of now." Nightwing grabbed the man by his lapels and hoisted him off the ground.

Gardenee looked up into the starlit eyes and knew something had gone wrong. He balled his hands into a fist and pounded on Nightwing's shoulder causing the vigilant to loosen his hold enough for Gardenee to twist out of his jacket. As soon as Mike felt his feet gain purchase on the ground, he turned and ran. Dick watched him for a moment before pulling out a bola and successfully trapping Gardenee's feet. The man hit the ground with a satisfying smack.

Nightwing moved over to Mike and flipped the man over. "Please don't kill me," he begged.

Dick wanted nothing more than to give this man no less then what Tim was given, but he held back. It would do no good to go over the edge. Instead, Nightwing bent close to the man and whispered, "I'm not going to kill you."

Mike sighed in relief.

"But I am going to make you pay." Nightwing finished and Gardenee barely had time to process the thought before a fist connected with his face. It wasn't strong enough to knock him out, but Gardenee felt his head swim.

"What do you want with me?" He questioned as he saw Nightwing reel back his arm for another punch.

"I want you to go to jail. I want you off the streets. I want you to stop killing people." Dick watched as Mike closed his eyes awaiting the punch. There was a satisfaction that Nightwing knew he shouldn't be getting form watching this man suffer, but he didn't care. He was angry now- angry at himself, angry at this man. He wanted - needed - to make this man pay for what he did to Tim.

Before he was even aware of it, Dick's fist connected once again with Mike's face. The man whimpered and licked his bleeding lip.

"I'll…I'll do anything. Please."

Nightwing looked at the man and felt shame rise in him. This was wrong. The vigilant dropped his hold on Gardenee and the man fell to the ground. Dick rubbed a hand over his face being mindful of the blood that had speckled on his glove. With a sigh, Nightwing stood and walked to Mike's desk.

Twenty minutes later, a slightly bruised though still conscious Mike Gardenee was dropped in front of the Gotham Police station with a bat-a-rang tied to him and a signed confession of his crimes.

……

Dana Drake was nearly at her wits' end. Too much had happened in the last three days with the family that she had grown to love. Too many secrets had been dumped on her lap and coping with them was proving more difficult than she thought. As she sat at Tim's side, holding the young man's hand, she couldn't help but wonder how her life had come to this. Of course she loved Tim and Jack dearly; more than anyone, but this was never what she expected. She never thought she'd find herself sitting under Wayne Manor in the Bat Cave holding her, perhaps, dying step-son.

Suddenly the woman realized that she needed to get out of the oppressive Cave. It was as if the dankness and darkness was closing in on her. Standing to her feet, Dana caused Jack to stir out of his blank staring at Tim.

"Dana?" He asked as he looked at his wife.

"I…I have to go, Jack." She moved back some from the bed. "Just for a little bit."

Jack stood and put a hand on her wrist. "Are you okay?"

Dana felt tears come to her eyes and mentally cursed her weakness. She should stay with Jack. She should stay with Tim. But she just couldn't. "I just need to go. It's all too much right now."

Jack watched his wife step around him and move to his son's side. She bent over Tim's pale face and placed a tender kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back, Tim. I promise," Dana said softly and Jack felt himself longing to keep his wife at his side.

"Please, just stay for me." He paused and added, "For Tim."

Dana turned and moved away from the bed. As she walked past her husband she stopped and placed a soft hand on his cheek. "I am leaving for Tim. I need time alone: to think, to process. I'll be back." With a soft kiss to his lips, Dana moved away and headed up the stairs to the Manor passing Bruce Wayne on the way. She gave the man a smile. "Take care of Timothy while I'm gone."

Bruce didn't have a chance to ask the woman what she meant before she was trotting up the stairs. The man watched her go and then, once out of his sights, he turned and looked towards the medical bay. Painfully aware that Alfred was making dinner, Dick was out dealing with Gardenee, and Dana had just left, Bruce knew he and Jack were alone with nothing standing between them except a child whom they both cared for deeply.

Squaring his shoulders, but being mindful not to go into complete Bat-Mode, Bruce moved in the direction of the sick bay uncertain what was going to occur, but knowing something was going to happen.

……

Jack, not having the training of his son, wasn't aware Bruce was behind him until the younger man made a point to kick a metal cabinet. The older man steeled himself enough not to jump off his seat, but he still whirled around quickly with surprise. Bruce stared at Jack and was met with a glare.

"What do you want?" Tim's father asked with accusation tainting his voice.

Bruce did not allow himself to get angry. "I was seeing how Tim is doing."

Jack barked a laugh and Bruce suddenly realized the older man was asking for a fight and probably had been fuming since their conversation before was abruptly ended.

"You don't care about him. You only care about yourself."

The younger man narrowed his eyes. "Do not presume to know me," he warned dangerously even though Jack paid no heed to it.

"I know enough about you, Bruce or should I say Batman." Jack turned in his chair confront Bruce with his body as well as his words. "I don't think you know the difference between the two anyhow. You think you're on some mission from God; that you have to exact justice to every evil do-er that exists. You are just so god-damned righteous." The older man stood. "You used my son for your own purposes. You brainwashed him into one of your mindless soldiers. I know who you are, Wayne. You're nothing but a lost boy who is still looking for his parents and you think you'll find them through Batman."

"I said it before, Jack. You know nothing." Bruce wouldn't let Jack know how deeply his words had cut him and how accurate they seemed to him. Many times, Batman felt like he was pushing others around him to take up his battle against their will. Many times he felt that he had to fight because he owed it to his parents. A part of him, the part that he only heard right before he fell asleep while he was dreaming yet awake, told him that if he fought hard enough and long enough his parents would be given back to him. It was foolish, he knew, but a part of him still had to believe.

Bruce continued speaking to Jack. "Your son needed to fight. He was never used against his will." It was all the younger man could say, but it wasn't enough.

"How can you believe that!" Jack yelled. "Do you think he wanted to have himself shot at? Beaten? Nearly killed every night of the week? I read what he did and what he went through. Pain was a constant in his life- physical and mental."

It took nearly all of Bruce's training not to show any emotion at Jack's words. Too often he had questioned himself in regards to Tim and too often he had shoved those questions deep inside assuming Tim would tell him if he wanted to quit. But now, all those questions came rushing to the surface. Had he done wrong by Tim? Was the boy too afraid to quit? Bruce had barely had time to process that last question before Jack's voice interrupted him.

"Do you think as a sixteen-year-old he wanted to have his leg shattered!"

Suddenly all those questions that had been running around in Bruce's head stopped immediately and he stared with a shocked expression even he couldn't hid at Jack.

"What?" He asked incredulously.

Jack pointed a finger at the prone teenager in the bed. "You were suppose to find him before anything happened to him. I trusted in you! And look at him now. My son's dying and it's your fault. You weren't there for him when he needed you."

A haze of red past before Bruce's eyes and he spoke without any consideration to his words. Hours later, Bruce would realize, when talking to Jack, it was the first time in recent memory he had truly lost control of himself. He would not be proud, but he would not be sorry.

"I wasn't there for him?" Bruce questioned. "I wasn't suppose to be there for him! He wasn't suppose to be where he was." The younger man stepped scant inches away from Jack so their noses were almost touching. Instead of the louder tones that Bruce had been speaking in before, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Don't you dare claim that I wasn't fast enough. I didn't get to your son in time, but Tim was kidnapped and beat and shot because of you." The last word was said in a hiss and Bruce noticed Jack flinch with satisfaction.

Bruce continued, lost in his anger. "Your son did nothing but love you unconditionally. He gave up Robin for you. He never wanted anything more from you than for you to accept him and love him. You couldn't even do that for him." The younger man pointed to Tim on the bed. "Look long and hard at him, Jack, because you're the one who put him there."

With that last, crushing statement, Bruce shouldered his way around Jack and moved swiftly away from the sick bay forgetting his earlier claim of checking on Tim. He had to get away from the older man before he said, or did, something even worse. A nagging voice in Bruce's head, however, asked: Could he say anything worse?

TBC…