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Watching
Conclusion
Present Day
"I think this will end up being a good year." Dick was sitting in his new apartment, Roy had stopped over a while ago and they were on the second six-pack.
"Why's that, Grayson?"
"Because I've lightened my load, jettisoned the crap and taken out the garbage."
Roy gave him a cool look. "Have you now?" Dick didn't discuss his personal life until at least the fourth beer.
"Yes, I have and I did it without the help of the Bat. In fact, we happen to have come almost full circle and are speaking to one another again as if we mean it."
"And dare I ask if you do mean it?" He popped yet another can. Tomorrow morning wasn't going to be pretty.
"Damn right I do—he's my father, did you know that?"
"So you've decided that you're okay with being adopted? I thought that was a dab on the awkward side, all things considered. You know, like maybe a decade or so belated."
"Water under the bridge, yesterday's news, m'friend." Dick reached for the last calzone; who'd've thought he could eat three of them at one sitting on top of all that damn beer?
Roy was at the totally mellow stage, almost laying down in the big easy chair, legs splayed out in front of him, boneless. "How's your love life going, Grayson? You two set the big day yet? She inundating you with bridesmaids swatches and flower arrangements?"
"It's off." He finished his current can of beer.
"Say what?"
"Cancelled. Stopped. Changed our minds. Stepping back a bit. Not happening." He popped another can, he wasn't sure but it may have been his seventh.
"Dick?" This got Roy's attention.
"Nah, it's okay. It's for the best and all that crap." He drained half the can. "It's fine."
That was about as big a load as Roy ever heard Dick try to throw, but if he wanted to talk about it he would, if not or if not yet, well…when he was ready he'd go there.
"So what about you, Roy, you seeing anyone?"
"Short, dark and dependant is where my heart leads me these days."
"Lian?"
"Yep."
They'd known each other since they were twelve years old. They'd been to weddings and funerals and other planets together, and there wasn't anyone either of them trusted more than each other; they had no secrets, or none that mattered, anyway. Brothers in everything but blood, birth to earth, womb to tomb they were there for each other.
"I'm glad Dick has Roy to talk to."
"I thought you hated him because he's a bad influence."
"He is a bad influence, but he's the one Dick feels comfortable with and after that horrible girl decided to change her mind again…"
"Mary, you saw it as well as I did, it was a mutual decision."
"My foot it was. Dick was heart broken and it's the reason he's been tomcatting around with those tramps he finds in bars. I just wish there was some way to get him going back to mass and confession so he can get some perspective on what he's doing."
John put down his newspaper to take a good look at his son on the screen in front of them. "Have you noticed that he's become a really handsome young man? I mean like movie star handsome and he has that athlete's body. No wonder he has no trouble getting girls."
"Thank you, that makes me feel so much better and of course he's handsome, he always was a good looking boy. I just wish that he…"
"That he would settle down? I know you do. He will when he's ready. Now let it go for now, Mare and take a walk with me."
She wasn't ready to drop it quite yet. "Is he talking to Bruce now?"
"On and off. Why?"
"I think I'll do something about that later."
"Mary…"
"Master Bruce? You have a secure call on line three."
Since Alfred didn't say who was on the line, Bruce knew. "What's going on?" Neither of them would waste time with the niceties.
"I was wondering if you'd heard anything about that blackmailing attempt against Josh Bennett?"
Josh Bennett, the Donald Trump of Gotham but richer and significantly less tacky, almost as rich as Bruce, in fact. "Not much, just that the FBI is handling it, why?" Bruce was wondering of Dick would get involved with this or not. Evidently he had his answer.
"I think it's a lot bigger than just some guys out to score some money. I heard there might be a defense contract on the line using dirty money to get it passed and some weapon grade plutonium is part of the deal; probably headed to the Mid-east. It looks like Bennett is doing everything he can to get the stuff to the blackmailers so his wife is released. It's gone international as of last night."
"I see—so what do you propose; Interpol?"
"Maybe as back up, but I was thinking Justice League because of the time factor."
"Not Outsiders?"
"Not enough experience there." That surprised Bruce a little, but Nightwing was nothing if not practical.
"Fine. Have you made the call?"
"I asked Oracle to call in J'onn and Wally, plus Arthur since it looks like there's some navy work involved. I also have Roy on reserve in case we need him."
"Fine; it's your operation. I'll meet you in five minutes. Out." So Barbara was 'Oracle' again as far as Dick was concerned. At least they were able to work together again. If nothing else.
"Everyone been briefed?"
"Of course." Nightwing didn't even bother with a dirty look and Batman knew he'd just insulted his protégé. It was unintentional, but it was there and everyone in the room knew it. Christ, no matter what he said, it seemed to set Dick on edge lately. "Arthur, I need you to make sure no one gets past the blockades in the harbors and anywhere else they may be bringing boats in or meeting at sea."
"No problem." He left to do his job.
"J'onn? You cover Bennett so everyone thinks he's still in his office waiting for a call. I want to arrange a press conference to reinforce the he's playing the blackmailer's game—Oracle will help you with that, okay?"
"Of course. What should my demeanor be?"
"Angry, frightened, anxious to do whatever it takes to get your wife back but still a bit defiant. He's not a wimp and he resents being used and not having control. You might want to imagine what would happen if Bruce Wayne were in that position." Dick ignored Batman's annoyed look, smiling to himself at the image he'd just painted for everyone.
"Wally and Roy, you're backing up me and Batman. We're going to hit the ship—'Lady Luck'— holding the wife as soon as it gets dark. Take out the crew, secure her, secure the weapons and turn everything over to whoever is there by then—Navy, Coast Guard, Interpol, what ever. Any questions?"
"Seems basic enough." Batman looked almost bored with it all.
"Okay, let's go."
"That man! He's yawn no matter what was going on. No wonder Dick hates him."
"Dick doesn't hate him, Mary. That's the problem."
"Well, I hate him enough for the both of us, then."
"Mare…"
"Nightwing, behind you."
"Flash…"
"I'm on it."
"In the sick bay—Speedy, secure the hostage."
"They're trying to scuttle the ship out from under us, where's Orin?"
"Shit—wha?"
"Captain! We're being towed towards the American boundary. If we leave international waters…"
"Dump the cargo, open he damn bilges—flood the damn hold. Fuckin' kill the bitch. Now!"
"Goddamnit—they have her out already—shit."
"Where's the damn crew?"
"The crew is contained, Nightwing."
"Good, the hostage?"
"Speedy is still with her below decks."
"…Jesus, Flash—make sure they're both all right. The rest of the crew isn't accounted for and may be…"
"I'm on it, Wing."
"Even he wouldn't try anything with us as witnesses, 'Wing, c'mon, the man is a professional tug, but no one said he was stupid."
"And he's looking at twenty-five to life when the trial is over so he has nothing to lose—check them now." The heroes Nightwing had brought into this case were all seasoned professionals and had their jobs under control, just as expected. Interpol made the official arrests, the US Coast Guard transported the prisoners and Mrs. Bennett was reunited with her husband and three kids. They dutifully invited their rescuers back for dinner or a celebratory glass, which was politely declined with the heroes all going their separate ways to patrol their own cities or work on their own cases.
"Really, John—look at that. 'Thanks for risking your lives for me, see 'ya."
"Mary, relax. It was business, not a social occasion."
"They could still spend some time together."
"Dick does spend down time with his friends, you know that."
She gave him an exasperated look and reached for the remote.
A half hour later with the final mop-up finished, Arthur, J'onn and the rest were gone and Nightwing was ready to get back to his apartment for a few hours of sleep when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning he looked a question at Batman.
"Come on back to the cave; I have a few new things I think you'd like to see, maybe you could use them yourself on a case." Nightwing just stared as though trying to figure out what he'd just heard. "C'mon, you have a hot date instead?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have a beer with me; catch up." Bruce actually smiled. "I want to hear what you've been doing."
Yeah, right. "You're speaking gibberish."
The feeble joke didn't work to deflect Bruce. "Alfred would love to see you, too. How long has it been since you stopped by?"
This wasn't normal. This definitely wasn't normal. "What's going on—Alfred isn't sick or anything, is he?"
"He's fine, come see for yourself."
Mentally shrugging and wondering what was really going on, Dick followed the Batmobile back to the cave on his cycle. As expected, Alfred was waiting with a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of cold milk, his face lighting up when he heard the roar of bike echoing through the cavern. His happiness and surprise causing the unprecedented breech of his setting the tray down on the edge of the computer console instead of on the designated table.
"Master Dick, my word, what a treat!" Alfred almost, but not quite, forgot himself enough to put his arms around the young man, but restrained himself at the last moment with a gentlemanly hand on the shoulder.
"Give him a hug, Dick. Make him happy."
Swinging his leg over the seat, Nightwing pulled his mask off and embraced the old man in one smooth movement, holding him long enough for the man to regain his composure.
"It's been too long, my boy, much too long. Now let me look at you." He pulled back enough to really see his old charge. "You're too thin by half."
"You always say that."
"I'm always right. Now you start in this and I' be back in a trice with more. No arguments; eat." Dick was sat at the console, the food slid in front of him and Bruce, cowl pushed back, leaning close beside, watching Dick finish the first sandwich and start on the second.
"Didn't you eat?"
"No time. You know how it is." Dick swallowed a glass of milk without pausing to breathe. He was skipping meals again.
"You going back to the BPD?" Bruce saw the almost controlled look on Dick's face, clearly he hadn't expected this news to be out yet. "Gordon told me about it. Well, he told Bruce Wayne at a charity dinner last week. Have you made a decision?"
"Thinking about it. You have an opinion?" Of course Bruce had an opinion. Bruce always had an opinion. And of course Dick knew about it—Amy Rohrbach called him two weeks ago to see if he was interested.
"It's a step backwards for you."
He didn't agree, but, "Okay, I'll bite. What would you prefer?"
"Tell him how much you miss him. Tell him how proud you are of him and tell him how you'd be proud of him no matter what he decides to do."
"I think you should do whatever you want, whatever will make you happy." Bruce saw the odd look on Dick's face, as though he was waiting for the punch line. "I mean that. You're old enough to make your own decisions and you generally do what's right for you." A pause. "Most of the time, anyway."
Dick was shaking his head. "Of course." He stood up, angry and about to walk out.
"Wait. Stop—that's not what I meant. You usually do the right thing; I meant it as a compliment. I know you're smart and I know you'll do what's best for you in the long run."
Dick was smiling now, but he wasn't happy, more like he'd just had something confirmed that he'd always known. "Yeah, well, I bumble along, thanks."
"Fix this!"
"I meant that you're…"
"I'm what?"
"I meant that I know you'll do the right thing." He put his right hand on Dick's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "I mean that I'm proud of you." A short beat. "And I always have been. You've become everything I hoped you would and…" He stumbled for words, unaccustomed to such things. "And I'm proud of you."
Dick tried to find the zinger in the declaration, the twist of the knife he'd become used to, the criticism hidden in the compliment but couldn't find it and wondering when it would come. He almost smiled, a bridge had possibly been crossed, a corner might have been turned and they both knew it. "Thank you." The almost smile became a small but genuine one. "I'm proud of you, too, Bruce." He looked at his bike, ready to leave but, "'You mind if I crash here? It's late and I'm kinda tired."
"Your room's always ready for you, you know that."
Yes, he did.
Later that night Dick had the familiar dream, the one where he talked with his parents. It was the same dream he'd been having since they'd been killed and while the details varied, the basic theme was always comfortingly the same. They were there for him; he wasn't alone and he never would be.
They were in what he recognized as the house they now lived in, if they were living, and they got up to greet him as he came in, happy to see him. "Sweetheart, you know we'll always help you, that if you're ever frightened or lost or confused, we'll try to make things right for you."
"I know that—you've always been there for me, ever since I was born."
"And we'll be here for you until you die, darling; a long time from now as you tell time. You may think we've left you because you don't need us as much as you used to, but if something happens, you can depend on us, just like you always have."
"I know that." But did this mean…? "Won't I see you again?"
"Of course you will, but you can make your own way. You'll see us again and one day you'll join us, but not yet."
"You still have too much to do, Dick. You get done what you have to, give us grandchildren and let Bruce spoil them just a little." John looked a little sad he wouldn't be doing the spoiling himself. "You've made us proud, son. You always have and you always will."
The room was fading, as dreams sometimes do.
"Mom? Dad? I want to still be able to talk with you."
"You will, darling. We love you and we always will. We'll be watching you, sweetheart."
Dick opened his eyes, looking around his old bedroom at the Manor with the framed Haley poster on the wall and the eight by ten photo of him with his parents in costume on the nightstand.
His mother's perfume still evident in the cool night air.
8/13/06
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