Author's notes: Okay, so I'm actually at my school and am suppose to be doing work. Luckily these little cubicles hide me and all people can hear is type so they'll assume I'm working. Brilliant! Anyhow, here it is. The last part and epilogue. I do want to apologize for how long it took the story to be fully out there; the story began is good times, went through bad times, and ended at new times. Fun to see the evolution there. I suppose it'll always be special to me in that way.

So, thank you to those you hung around. I appreciate the reviews endlessly; they make me smile every time.

I highly enjoyed writing this story because I think we had people in costumes, like… twice. It's fun to play with the Bat Family outside their normal realm sometimes.

Enjoy!

Masquerade

Part fifteen

…….

Tim leaned heavily on the crutch that supported him as he stared at the door. It had been a month since he was kidnapped by Gardenee to repay his father's debt, three weeks since he'd vacated the Cave and took up home with Dick, and a week and a half since Leslie operated on his knee. It was impossible to tell what would happen to his leg, but at this very moment, that thought didn't concern him.

Over the three weeks with Dick, Tim had slowly worked himself out of the depression he'd slipped into so quickly after things had gone so terribly wrong with his father. He's life had become one filled with his 'other' family who were constantly there to just sit and talk with the teenager. Even Bruce. It wasn't his true family, but it was still wonderful.

And finally, he'd decided to take Bruce's words to heart; finally he felt ready to try and talk to his father again and that was why he was now he was standing in front of the apartment where his father lived once again on crutches. The events of that awful night suddenly flashed through Tim's brain and he wondered (not for the first time) if this was a wise thing to do. He might feel ready to talk to Jack, but that didn't mean that his father was ready to talk to him. Feeling his heart rate increase slightly, the young man shook his head, closed his eyes, and knocked on the door.

As he waited, Tim's mind flew back to all the conclusions and realization that he had made over the past weeks.

Jack, even if he hadn't always been there, was a constant in Tim's life that he desperately needed right now. He needed to know that things would be okay again and that he was okay. There was a part of Tim, the true sixteen-year-old part, that had stayed hidden from Bruce, Dick and Alfred while in their company that, on many levels, he wasn't even aware he did. But years of training and living around those who kept their emotions tightly sealed, had been rubbed off and no matter how many times they asked if everything was alright, the full answer would never escape Tim's lips. It was also this part of Tim that still had nightmares about being tied to the bed as his leg was shattered; that had been resigned to die on the floor of a cabin and that was terrified he would lose his father forever. These fears he could barely face himself let alone tell Bruce or Dick about them. And so it was that part of Tim that desperately needed his father to just be there if only because he was the one person the teenager felt he could hid nothing from anymore after all that already had been hidden.

Tim wanted to fix things with his father and to do that he knew that he had to come to the Drake resident ready to share all his fears and his sorrow and anything else that would be necessary to fix the damage of the past. And Tim knew he father would have to do the same. In order to be whole again, they would have to begin again.

The door suddenly opened and Tim was thrown abruptly from his thoughts. He looked up into the share blue eyes of his father and said the only thing that came to his mind:

"I'm sorry."

The older man stared at his son as if he was seeing a ghost. "Tim?"

The teenager nodded and slowly stepped forward. "I'm sorry," he repeated and watched helplessly as his father continued to just stare at him. Even angry words were better than silence and the young man felt his heart wretch painfully in his chest at his dad's blank stare.

Jack was, in fact, at a loss of words. He never expected to see his son again after their last exchange. He had come to accept the fact that the two of them were more broken than either had ever been aware. Jack knew they were too far gone to fix things and he had slowly begun to try and accept the fact that Bruce would now be his son's father.

The only light in this entire affair was Dana who had done as she promised and come back home. She, somehow, did not seem surprised to see Timothy was not home and a part of Jack, the part that had lost all hope, knew it would only be a matter of time before his wife left him. After all, that was the only thing he was good at: pushing those he cared for the most as far away from him as possible.

And yet, Jack realized and his eye fell on Tim, the one person he pushed the hardest both on purpose and by mistake was suddenly standing in front of him apologizing.

"What are you doing here?" Jack questioned amazingly.

Tim felt tears formed in his eyes as began to speak. "I needed to see you," he whispered while looking at the ground. A few stray tears fell from his eyes and splashed onto the carpeted floor. Talking a calming breather, that actual did not calm him any, the teenager looked at his father. "I had to say I was sorry. I am sorry, dad. I never meant for any of this to happen. I just…" Tim shook his head as he became frustrated with his verbal skills. "I just need you to be my dad again."

Jack felt his own tears at the desperation in his son's voice. How had this child, this once so proud and brave young man who stood before him on so many occasions and meet Jack's stare head on in an all out battle of words, been reduced to this lost boy in front of him? Jack blinked to clear his vision and found that Timothy remained as young as ever. His son had never been anything more than a child through all this. He may have been a superhero, but his was still only sixteen years old and Jack suddenly realized he had forgotten that.

He had forgotten that Timothy was his child. He had forgotten what it meant to be a father. But, more importantly, he had forgotten how desperately he needed his child. Tim, through all the problems and all the worry that had occurred always was his son. Even in their worse moments, Jack had never stopped loving his child and suddenly he realized he never would.

And yet he had pushed Tim away. He had pushed his child away because of the love that once had cause him to worry endlessly over his child. For the first time, as Jack stared at his son looking so worn and young, the older man realized the pure senselessness of his actions.

"Oh, Timothy," he said while shaking his head. "I am a fool. I'm the one who's sorry; I'm the one who has to ask for your forgiveness. I never meant to see you get harmed. I never meant to lie." The older man reached a hand out to his son. "I never meant to leave. I never meant to push you away."

The young man fell into his father's offered arms. "It's okay," he said. Tim held tightly onto his father's forearm while he spoke. "We've both made a mess of everything."

Jack released a soft laugh, "Yes, we have," he said as he gently lowered both of them to the ground being mindful of Tim's braced leg. "But, we can fix it."

Tim's breath hitched, "What if we cant?" The teenager asked and gripped his father tighter. Jack said nothing, but simply held his child as the young man succumbed to tears that had long been held back as well as the fears he had kept at bay. "What if it's all too much? What if we can fix this? What if…"

"We will be okay," Jack interrupted and looked directly into his son's eyes. "We will be okay," he repeated and Tim found himself compelled to believe.

And thus, father and son fell into silence as clung to each other like lifelines.

…….

Hours later, Tim and Jack sat across from each other in the sparse living room. Since removing themselves from the floor, neither had said anything, but simply sat in silence nursing a cup of tea. There was much to be said in order for any repairing to be done, but neither knew how to start or where to start. Tim watched the steam rise from his china glass and followed it until he was looking at his dad. Jack, too, was staring into his cup of tea with great interest.

Licking his lips, Tim spoke, "When I was lying on the ground and had a gun aimed at me the only thing I could think was 'I won't be able to tell dad I'm sorry.'" Tim looked back at his cup unable to meet his father's eyes. "I am sorry for the lies I told and the secrets I kept." He looked up to try and catch his father's eye. "I wanted to tell you about Robin, I really did, but I just, I couldn't."

The young man sighed. "I couldn't tell you because of other people's whose lives were at stake. I know that's not a good reason, but it's the truth. And," the teenager sighed, "I had to be Robin so I chose not to tell you."

It was the first truly honest thing about Robin that Tim could truly remember telling his father. In the end it had come done to the fact that to be Robin he had to keep the secret from his father and he had been okay with that.

"I wish you had told me," Jack said shaking Tim from his thoughts.

"I wanted to!" Tim all but cried. He then calmed for a moment and spoke again, "I just…I made a choice, dad. I know you don't necessarily understand how I could make it, but I did. Robin was an amazing gift that Bruce gave me and I… I loved it." The teenager smiled up to his father as if imploring him to understand. "I can't explain, but I knew that I had to be Robin; that I had to help people and…and I just never realized the sacrifices that had to be made." He sighed.

"By the time I realized what I would have to keep from you I had already been Robin and I just…I couldn't give it up."

Tim looked at his father and could only hope that he understood somehow. That Jack could see that it was never that Tim loved Robin or Bruce more than his own family, but that he loved them at least equally, but to have both meant having to take away from the other. In the end, Tim loved his family, but knew that Robin was the better choice and so, that was the one he picked.

Jack stared long at his son and looked deep into the boy's face as if attempting to find understanding. The older man then stood and moved next to his son.

"You never thought I would be able to understand," he stated and Tim found he could not argue.

"I didn't," he admitted. "On top of not having the right to tell you, I didn't think you would let me if you knew."

Jack looked into his son's blue eyes that looked so much like Janet's. "I don't think I would have."

Father and son looked at one another, the truth laid out before them clearer than it ever had been. Neither, though, knew what to do with it now. Tim admitted having chosen Robin over his family and Jack admitted that he would have been okay with his son's nighttime activities.

"I love you," the younger Drake suddenly blurted out. Jack looked at his son and smiled lightly.

"I love you, too."

And, though it was not enough to fix everything, it was a step in the right direction.

"I don't blame you," Jack stated. "There are many hurt feelings," he admitted, "but I never could blame you for this. It's…it is my fault."

Tim shook his head. "Dad…"

"No, son, it is. I had a problem and I kept it from you and look what happened," he gestured to Tim's form. "I'm a terribly father, I…"

"Stop it!" The teenager finally yelled at his dad. "Just stop it. I don't blame you."

"But…"

The teenager shook his head. "I don't blame you," Tim said again. Jack looked at his child and could see the unwavering conviction in his eyes. Looking at his son and seeing that Tim held no anger towards him caused the older man to shake his head.

"How can you not?"

Tim stood and gave his father and gentle smile. "Because you are my dad," he said simply.

Jack returned the smile, albeit with a twinge of sadness, "And you are my son," he stated hoping his child could understand that Jack did not blame Timothy for any wrongs.

"We're okay?" The teenager asked.

Jack put a hand on his son's shoulder. "We will be."

That night, in the Drake apartment, bridge had been crossed. There was still more to say and there would be for many days to come, but the beginnings of healing had occurred. Jack and Tim now had a chance to put the past where it belong and moved forward. More arguments would be had, more tears would be shed in the next trying hours, but, in the end, father and son would have the new start they both so desperately needed.

…….

EPILOGUE

Six months after the incident, Tim found himself staring apprehensively at the mat in front of him. Leslie told him that his leg should be healed now and physical exercises were acceptable. Tim was terrified, however, and had yet to step onto the mat to complete the kata routine he'd done countless times before.

What if my leg does hold? What if it didn't heal properly? What if...?

Tim shook his head. That was not helping matters. The leg had yet to hurt since he started his jogging and sprinting. The next obvious step was to put more intense pressure and work his leg at angles he hadn't tried in over six month. It was time to see where he stood both literally and figuratively. Cracking his neck, the young man moved to the mat and began to move.

The movements were choppy, ungraceful after lack of practice, but they were still there. Tim felt like laughing out loud. Everything felt right. The young man continued to move around the mat unheeded by the leg that had been the source of nightmares for months now. Smiling mentally, Tim took a deep breath and focused on the kata, increasing the speed and the agility necessary.

As he moved, the teenage was unaware of the audience that stood at the stairs watching intently.

Bruce looked over at Jack and watched the older man's face turn into a picture of awe. To Bruce, Tim looked slightly out of control and off-balanced, but that was what a trained eye saw. Bruce knew that to Jack, Tim looked amazing. There was a grace to Tim that one would never image possible in someone his age. Bruce had seen this grace turn deadly in the middle of a fight, but, on the mat in the middle of the Cave, this grace was inspiring.

"He's amazing," Jack stated never taking his eyes away from his son. Tim moved across the mat and Jack had to make certain that his son's feet even touched the ground. There was an elegance to the young man's movement, but there was also something that spoke of strength behind Tim's actions. Jack saw something within his son now; something he had never noticed before.

Tim was powerful.

As he was watching, Tim back-flipped and Jack nearly jumped as a metal pole suddenly came alive in his son's hand. "What?" Jack asked incompletely.

"It's his bo-staff; he uses it very effectively." Bruce watched Tim's work with his bo for a few seconds before adding: "More effectively then most anyone I've ever seen." He pointed at the teenager's arms while Tim stood still for a moment of concentration in the kata. "See how it is not a weapon in his hands, but rather an extension of his body. He uses it as if it was a part of him, not something that gets in the way." As Bruce finished his brief explanation, Tim began the move once more and Jack could actually see what the younger man had been talking about.

"Is he good?"

Bruce nodded. "He really is. He didn't have the training Dick had while in the circus nor the fearlessness that Jason had. Everything that he has become today he's work exceptionally hard for." Bruce turned and looked at Jack. "When he found me, he wasn't asking to be Robin, but he was asking simply for Batman to have a Robin. He understood something that not even I understood. He knew that Batman needed a Robin and he made me realize this as well." The younger man turned and looked back at Tim who had begun to smooth out his movements to something that Bruce was used to seeing. "It was his intellect that first caught my attention. Not only did he figure out something that no one else has, but he came to me brimming with ideas and concepts, never once truly asking to be brought into this family. It was then his strength and his will that made me realize he, as Robin, would be perfect. From then on, it was his determination that made him move like you are watching."

Bruce nodded his head approvingly as Tim executed a will-timed front flip into a controlled roll bringing his bo out protectively. "All that you see here has been the result of hours of hard work. I've seen Tim at his lowest as Robin, but I've also seen him at his highest." The younger man looked at Jack one more time. "He is gifted, Jack. Tim is good at what he does."

Jack tore his eyes away from Tim to meet Bruce's gaze. "I don't want to see him hurt."

"I don't want to either and he won't be. He's had the proper training and has a good head on his shoulders."

Bruce continued to watch Tim and saw a flash of who the young man once had been and who he could once again be.

Tim finished the kata and both older men could see the smile of satisfaction on the teenager's face, but also the determination. Bruce knew that Tim understood he was not ready to return to the streets and would not be for many months. Looking over at Jack, Bruce also knew that Tim would not return to the streets if his father disapproved.

"What would you do if he was your child?" Jack suddenly asked.

Bruce instantly thought back to Dick and those nights when the younger man lived in the Manor and held the same title as Tim.

"I would worry non-stop, I would hate it every time he got hurt, I would never sleep soundly while I knew he was still out there, but I would let him go knowing that if I held him back he would suffer more than I ever would."

Bruce looked at Jack. "People like Tim and Dick are not meant to be held back, they are meant to soar and to be free to make their own choices and their own mistakes. They do more good for themselves and for the world when they are allow to roam freely. It is a tragedy to keep them locked up because we want to be selfish and keep them safe."

"You will look out for him?"

Bruce nodded, "As if he his my own child."

"Then maybe I was wrong," Jack looked back at his son. "Maybe he was meant to help others."

"I think he was, Jack. I really do," Bruce said with conviction.

"Then I suppose it's time for Batman to have his Robin back."

Bruce smiled slightly and felt a sense of pride rise in him and a sense of excitement at being able to tell Tim that one day, once he was ready, the costume would be his again.

A sense of calm settled over Bruce and, for the first time in a while, he felt that things would be okay. Looking at Tim who was walking off the mat and feeling the presence of Jack beside him, Bruce realized that maybe things would be okay in the end.

And maybe both families would survive this horrible experience and come out stronger than ever.

It was certainly something to look hope for and Bruce felt it might not be as far out of their reach as it once appeared.

The end.

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