Disclaimer: We don't own Batman

Full summary: In the turbulent months after the gassing, Batman comes across an orphan boy by the name of Alvin Draper. He's adopted into the Wayne family, and Bats takes his first step down the road to his future. DickxTim

Warnings: Slash, spoilers, language, and violence

Pairing(s): DickxTim

Fic type: AU, romance

Bizarre speaks: Issues? The story was originally intended to be TimxBruce. But...that's not my pairing. No matter how hard I try. P.S. Raven: the ultimate plot-device.


The Interface
by Bizarre Aubrey
Chapter VI: Capes


The next morning, Bruce wasn't any happier about waking up for breakfast. After several cups of coffee and bowls of oatmeal--Alfred had decided to mix it up a bit that day--he shooed Tim off for school. Then, he motioned for Dick to follow him. He led him straight to the Bat Cave. It wasn't as if his secret identity was a secret from Dick.

"Unfortunately," Bruce began as he hunted through a storage closet in search of the swords he knew he'd purchased after the reconstruction of the Manor. "We do not have the same harsh environment that I was trained on." He found the twin blades and held one out for Dick. "This will have to do." He gestured to the wet rocks near the cascading waterfall.

Dick followed him, looking at the sword with interest. He was a faster learner and he'd had sharp objects aimed at him before. This was exciting and a grin split his face as he waited for Bruce to begin.

Bruce tried to recall Ra's al Ghul's training. As he remembered, Ra's had begun sparring with him without much warning at all.

"We're training with live steel," he stated. "I suggest you be careful." Then Bruce attacked. He would be mindful not to land any blows until he got a feel for Dick's aptitude.

He shouldn't have been even half as surprised as he was when Dick danced nimbly to the side. The kid was unsure about the use of the sword, but he had dodging down. He made a few awkward slashes, which coming from Dick looked like expert moves that just happened to miss.

They continued for some time, until Bruce eventually managed a low sweeping kick that knocked Dick into the shallow standing water between the rocks.

"Not bad," he complemented, raising his eyebrows and keeping his sword pointed down at the boy casually. One thing he'd learned was never to presume his opponent was defeated, as they so rarely were.

Dick was no exception. He didn't fall. He rolled like the acrobat he was. He was back on his feet by the time Bruce finished speaking.

"Yeah, not bad," he agreed, looking down at Bruce's feet for a moment.

Bruce smirked a little, noticing where the teenager's eyes were.

"Ninja trick," he elucidated. "Get to where you need to be before your enemy notices you're moving." He did an odd twirl with his sword, and let it drop down to his side. "Lesson one: learn to keep your footing."

That was a lesson that Ra's had struggled and long hard to beat into Bruce. The young Wayne hadn't been inclined enough to think ahead about his footing, at the time.

Dick's smile got even wider. "That's fabulous," he said breathlessly. He was really keyed up about this, Bruce noted. Maybe he wouldn't be as moody and bothersome as Tim.

"Again." Bruce motioned for him to get into his stance. "By the end of the week, I want you to be able to sweep me."

The young acrobat took his challenge with vigor. His eyes darkened a little and his fingers tightened on the hilt of the sword.

"Right. Sweep you by the end of the week."

Bruce considered smiling back but instead he curled his fingers for Dick to come at him again.

x x x x x

"You weren't supposed to actually cut me," Bruce berated Dick playfully as he led him back to the lift a few hours later. He examined some of the cuts on his forearms.

He'd landed a few blows on Dick as well; he needed to invest in training guards.

On the up side, he and Dick had bonded. It had lifted Bruce's spirits considerably. They were actually joking and teasing.

Then Tim came home and Dick became even more animated.

"Dick, you're bleeding on my shirt," Tim said, wriggling within his big brother's grasp. Bruce blinked after having that thought. Dick and Tim did act like brothers and this was their family…hell, why not?

Bruce approached them and clapped a hand on Dick's shoulder.

"Alfred has bandages upstairs," he directed. The Wayne household was never lacking in bandages "We'll fix the bleeding problem." Come to think of it, he could use a few bandages and a clean shirt. His was bloodier than Tim's.

Tim noticed this and a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Dick was beating up on you," he crowed as they went in search of Alfred.

"It was a mutual bloodbath." Bruce corrected. "It happens." Bruce didn't feel it would do them any good to train with dull weapons.

Alfred tutted at them and Dick was just grinning and babbling to Tim about what they'd done. Tim appeared to be listening as he wrapped a bandage around Dick's forearm.

"Don't be too excited," Tim snorted, his bright blue eyes flashed in a way Bruce hadn't ever seen before. "These are going to be the most grueling months of your entire life."

"Bring it," Dick replied with a cocky smile.

"I'll be sure to take that challenge," Bruce promised him with a straight face and a feral voice. He'd never trained anyone before, but he was in his prime, he was sure he could keep Dick on his toes.

The one who really brought it down on them was Tim. The boy didn't fight with swords. Instead he fought with an extending bo staff, which he had spent a few days fashioning. When it was complete, Bruce and Dick began to sport a field of painful bruises on their shins.

Bruce was impressed by both of them, Tim's current skill and Dick's learning curve. They were eager to spar with each other and Bruce was interested to see it. They didn't seriously fight until Dick had been through several weeks of training. They looked forward to weekends when Tim had the time to spend hours playing with Dick, so Bruce could take not of the acrobat's developing technique.

Jump, roll, lunge, punch…then Tim tackled him, locking his legs and pinning his arms. Dick was panting but smiling.

"Pay more attention to your right foot when you land," Bruce called as they got up.

During the week, it was just Bruce and Dick. Tim went to school, which always dampened Dick's spirits at first. There were some days he would become so distracted, around the time Tim was to return, that Bruce just gave up.

One day, after a particularly fruitful session had gone down the drain, Tim came home and went in search of Dick. When he didn't find him upstairs he went down to the cave. He called up and got no response, but just was he was heading back up the stairs Dick lowered from the ceiling.

He smirked at Tim upside down.

"Learn that today?" the Drake boy smiled.

"Yep," Dick said smugly. "Now, c'mere so we can get in some practical application before Bruce comes back." He had to hold on to the cable, and wait patiently for Tim to come forward. When he did, Tim cupped Dick's cheekbones and pressed up onto his tiptoes to kiss him. They hadn't meant to get into a full blow tongue battle, but neither of them was complaining.

x x x x x

It was six months before Bruce issued Dick a new challenge.

"Your last test begins tonight," he stated. "Twenty four hours on the streets…without being caught by me. You can't have any help."

Dick would never back away from the challenge. He nodded.

"We start now," Bruce declared. "You have ten minutes to get out of here."

That got Dick started and he took off. He got one of the bikes, just to get into town, and then abandoned it.

It was a horrible game of cat and mouse. Running over rooftops, hiding in shadows. Swinging through the streets on a grapple. Twenty-four straight hours, a test of endurance and skill. And Dick passed. He could have jumped up and down with glee, but settled for a handstand. He wanted to go home and tell Tim. Preferably this news would be met with sex.

When it was finished, Bruce went home to give Dick his congratulations as well. He wasn't expecting to get upstairs and find his sons lip-locked together though.

So much for that wonderful, family image that he'd had developing in his mind.

Bruce hadn't wanted to see that. In the months since Dick had arrived, since the first time he'd seen the boys clinging together at the circus, he'd speculated. He'd suspected, and occasionally, during their weekend sparring sessions, when he'd seen that thinly veiled intimacy, he'd gone as far as to wonder…But he'd never wanted to know.

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was an oddly strangled noise. As Tim and Dick broke apart, Bruce turned and walked down the hallway, feeling numb with shock.

Bruce took a deep breath and decided to talk to them. Mostly Tim. What was the kid thinking? He wasn't from this time stream. Yes, they had been a bit distracted with training Dick, but Bruce had been looking for ways to get Tim back home. Forming attachments with Dick wasn't going to help anything.

"I'm a fucking hypocrite," Bruce muttered to himself. He already viewed both of them like his sons. It was going to kill everyone when Tim had to leave.

At dinner the boys had no reason to think anything was amiss, even when Bruce asked to talk to Tim for a moment. Then the actual conversation began and Tim's face closed off and he drew in on himself.

"You're brothers!" Bruce cried, his petulance and indignation made him sound even younger than ever. "Not blood brothers, but still! Are you two like that in your time stream too?"

Tim clenched his jaw, Bruce could see the muscles working even from where he sat in his desk chair.

"No," Tim spit. "I…have a different lover in my timeline. But I have never wanted Dick to just be my brother."

"So, you decided to come here and move in on a moment of weakness?" Bruce was having trouble comprehending. For all his book smarts and fighting skills, he really couldn't figure Tim out. He had the terrifying suspicion that Tim liked it that way. "You weren't satisfied with your Dick, and you wanted another to try again? Explain this to me!"

He saw his 'son's' eyes flash. "You know that isn't it!" Tim said quietly. He wasn't the type to be angry of vindictive, Bruce knew this, but he could tell Tim was on the cusp. "You know I did all I could."

"Did you?" Bruce answered coolly.

Tim froze under his words. "I…" he trailed off.

"I know I fucked up at that circus, but I didn't know." Bruce stood up from his chair and started toward him. "You did. Are you sure you put as much effort into it as you could?"

"You were getting in my way," Tim whispered, staring up at him.

"That didn't stop you any other time," Bruce hissed. "You aren't the kind of person to make excuses, Tim. Own up."

"He needed me," the kid shook his head.

"Or you needed him."

"Not enough to let his parents die!" Tim protested.

"If that wasn't it, why did you, when you KNEW?" Bruce nearly roared. Then he watched one--and only one--tear force it's way from Tim's eye. The Drake boy got himself back under control after that.

"Don't," Tim said quietly.

"Don't, what, Tim?"

"Don't tell him…"

There was a shuffle behind them.

"I won't need to," Bruce shook his head.

Tim whipped around and he was stunned that he hadn't noticed Dick was there. He was terrified that Dick had heard.

Dick look bewildered. Bruce let his head hang with exhaustion. The business of children was more trouble than it was worth. He briefly wondered whether he should leave the two of them alone, or stay to referee.

Dick lunged at Tim, but just to grab his shirt and haul him up. "Tim," he said, begging it not to be true.

"Dick, please," Tim cried, "Don't, you don't understand I—"

Dick didn't want to listen and he tossed his brother--lover--backwards so that he hit Bruce. Then left the study, they heard his footsteps on the stairs.

"It was unwise of you to get into this with him. When you knew you'd have to leave," Bruce murmured, helping Tim to right himself, before drawing away. He needed to make sure Dick was okay too. "You should have known that getting close to him would make it harder. You can't have real relationships like that, and just expect it to be easy to give up. Going half way doesn't cut it." Bruce wasn't exactly a relationships guru, but he thought he recalled Rachel lecturing him on something to this effect. "Which, by the way," he added, pausing in the doorway, "now would be a bad time to tell him you're not staying." Then, he hastened his pace to go find Dick.

He found Dick upstairs in the bedroom the boys had been sharing. Bruce winced because he should have figured it out faster. Really, he should have, but he hadn't wanted to. When he knocked on the door he didn't receive a response. Bruce tried the knob, and the wooden panel swung open easily for him.

"You okay?" he inquired quietly.

Dick looked up at him, the epitome of sullen. "That's kind of a stupid question coming from you."

"Yeah." Bruce agreed, entering the room. He shut the door with his foot, and went to sit next to Dick, on the bed. "Guess it is. Following that line of logic, asking if you want to talk about it would be equally stupid."

"Yeah," Dick answered. "But if you really need to know how I feel, I'll try to summarize. Hurt."

"That's usually how it goes," Bruce agreed. He ran his fingers through his hair. This was awkward. "Hey, listen, I'm sorry you had to hear that. I wasn't expecting you to show up right then."

"You didn't do anything," Dick muttered. "Matter of fact, neither did Tim."

"I've been there. But, I was directing those feelings at myself. Which I'm not suggesting you do, mind, I'm just saying. Sometimes, no matter how much you want to help someone you care about, you can't." He was a hypocrite. He'd just been yelling at Tim over this exact thing.

Dick remained quiet but the stony look on his face belied his pain. He'd known too. He had shied away from the fact that Tim had tried to get it out of him and he'd dismissed it. The anger was so much easier than the guilt.

Bruce knew those feelings too. How easy it was to smother your grief with rage. He didn't say anything for the time being. He put an inelegant arm around Dick's shoulder and gave him a brief squeeze before letting go.

That did something, Bruce wasn't sure what, but the mood in the room eased just a little. He vaguely considered saying something and ending it with 'son', but instead decided to just give Dick a little bit of peace.

x x x x x

The next morning was hell. Bruce had no idea where Tim had been all night, but he came in the front door at breakfast. Dick wasn't at the table, but Tim firmly acted as if he didn't care. He ate, and then went to school. Meanwhile Alfred gave Bruce a concerned look.

Dick shuffled down the stairs approximately ten minutes later, ready to train himself into exhaustion with Bruce. He was focused, determined, and just a little bit reckless, but Bruce didn't actually have a legitimate reason to tell him to stop. It wasn't his place anyway. He had offered what he could, but, in the end, the kids had to work it out.

Not that they seemed liable to do so any time soon. With the huge Manor as their battlefield, Dick could dance around Tim until Kingdom Come. He even had an excuse when Batman and Robin went out on their patrols…

Dick caught a grazing shot to the arm, but kept fighting, bashing a crooks head before realizing what he was doing. He looked at Bruce and said he had to cool his heels. Call if he needed help.

Bruce thought that was a fabulous idea and nodded, then continued on his beat. He didn't expect to come home at 2 in the morning and find Tim sitting in the hallway outside of Dick's room with a leather-bound book lying in his lap.

"Dick, please,"

Bruce didn't hear Dick's reply, only Tim's answers.

"I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't decide. There's that-that fucking butterfly effect to take into account." Tim stuttering: a sign of the apocalypse. "What if I'd saved your parents and then you'd all been shot later? What if Zucco wasn't going to kill your parents in this universe?"

There was the sound of Dick saying something muffled and loud from the other side of the door.

"You're right," Tim sighed. "I've been…avoiding things. But…I…I didn't lie Dick. My parents are dead. You and Bruce are the only family I have. I'm in love with you. That nine-year-old boy you hugged at Haly's that day? That's me, and I'm in my room thinking you're the most amazing person in the world. Right now. I wanted…you. I wanted a chance and I got it and I could have saved you're parents. You're right.

"I've fucked this time line up enough…I'm sorry…and…I have to leave now,"

He started to read from the book and Bruce felt his heart clench. He hurried up the stairs and Dick flung open the door. They converged together at that point in the hallway and a dark shape materialized.

"Timothy, what took you so long?" Raven asked breathlessly.

"I didn't know what to do," Tim confessed pitifully. Raven surveyed the scene around her taking stock of the shocked look on Dick's face and the stony mask that Bruce had pulled up to hide his own surprise.

"Richard," she greeted pleasantly enough. "Batman, if you'll excuse us, he has been gone too long already."

"No!" Dick choked, and grabbed Tim. He held him tightly to his chest but Bruce nodded.

Raven took that as her cue. She touched Tim's shoulder. The boy tried to draw backward against Dick but it was too late.

The next time he blinked he was in Titans Tower. Kon tackled him to the ground and it hurt. Tim wept bitterly on the inside.


Every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do. - Voltaire

End