Author's Note: The action in this chapter, for the most part, is based on Nightwing 151. The timing of this scene was my choice and may not be exact canon.
CHAPTER 5
BRUCE WAYNE
DECEASED, AGE 32
The funeral was rough, Dick reflected as he waved good-bye to the guests. Oliver and Dinah had come together in a single car, as had Clark and Diana. Jim Gordon and Barbara had stayed a bit longer, but even they had recognized that it was time to leave. After the small funeral, they had all stayed for tea afterward, impeccably provided by Alfred. Nobody had much to say. What was there to say? That Bruce had been a great man? That was obvious. Recount all the times that Bruce had saved the City or the world? That also went without saying. He supposed that the Heroes had recognized just how shell-shocked the reclusive bat-clan had been and had left as a mercy, not requiring them to entertain outsiders.
Changed out of his suit and tie, Dick sat on the terrace quietly mourning by himself. Tim had disappeared inside the house somewhere. Damian was still with his mother, recovering from the Red Hood's attack. DickOn Alfred's insistence, Dick hadn't allowed the Justice League to throw the massive funeral they'd planned, with hundreds of heroes walking in procession to a massive monument. At the funeral, he'd made it clear to those assembled that, while Bruce Wayne might have passed, the Batman was alive and could never die. The single biggest legacy that Bruce had left behind was the Batman, a frightening shadow of justice, neither ghost, nor demon.
He knew that Bruce had never been afraid of death, although he was frightened of many things, his own mortality hadn't made the top hundred. God... he wasn't ready to lose him yet...
"Sir, it's time," Alfred's quiet voice came from behind him. He turned and saw the butler's face, drawn with sadness. "Are you really sure that you want to do this? The Master would surely understand."
Dick gave him a sad smile. "Bruce, of all people, believed that the family should get together on a regular basis. First Friday of the month is Movie Night and who am I to break his tradition? We all made sure that our schedules were clear, even the Titans new better than to call me on a first Friday." He slowly got up out of his seat. "I'll be right there. Tell Tim, would you?"
Dick made his way to the kitchen. Although it had been redone a few times since his childhood, all the standard ingredients still lived where they always had.
Dick silently took the strawberries out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter where Alfred began slicing them. Tim came into the room, glanced sadly at Alfred and Dick, then went for the blender in the closet. He carried it, cradled in his arms, over to the center island where Alfred was working.
Dick, still in the refrigerator, found the strawberry ice cream and set it down next to Alfred. Then, as they had done too many movie nights to count, Tim shot the ice cream scoop at Dick, who plucked it out of the air with a single hand. Nobody was whooping tonight, though.
Dick scooped the ice cream into the blender, then poured the milk in and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Tim was making microwave popcorn. He sighed. None of them had the energy to actually cook anything tonight. If the sodium and additives killed them, so be it. The last spoonful of Ovaltine was added and the blender processed again. He noted that the popcorn was going into four bowls and remembered Jason, then sighed. Alfred had set out four glasses near the blender. Carefully, Dick poured the shakes evenly into each one, paying extra attention to the fourth. Knowing that Alfred and Tim would each get his own shake, Dick carried the two remaining into the den. He gently set one shake down on the table next to the center black chair, next to an untouched bowl of popcorn.
Tim, at the movie cupboard, caught his eye and held up a DVD case, eyebrows raised. Dick read the title, "Magnificent Seven", and nodded. Tim popped the DVD into the player while Alfred drew the curtains. As he moved towards his own chair, Tim shot the remote to Dick with a "fap!".
Lights lowered the three sat in their accustomed seats, Alfred on the far left. Tim was on the far right. Dick was in the center, to the right of the single empty chair, seeming to loom in the darkness. Dick activated the remote with a "klik!" and started the movie.
Dick reflected that, as every family had its traditions and customs, this had become one of theirs. They would always carry on, no matter what happened. The heart of this family had been torn out, but Batman would never die, could not die. Dick was determined that Bruce's legacy would go on; he would ensure that personally.
The movie ended and Dick turned the DVD player off with another "klik!". Not a single word had been exchanged, but an entire conversation had been held in the silence.
HOURS LATER
BATCAVE
Dick had read over Bruce's will one more time and regretted being unable to follow Bruce's instructions. He had to don the cowl; if he didn't, Jason would co-opt it and destroy Bruce's legacy, trading it for gratuitous murder and violence. Jason was too violent, too unhinged for the cowl. Tim was too young. It had to be him, Bruce's natural heir.
He studied the cape and cowl, so familiar to him over the years. He had always expected to inherit it but had never wanted it. But it was time. He opened the uniform vault and dressed swiftly.
He wasn't as tall as Bruce had been, the suit would need alteration. The cape...was too heavy. With an ironic grimace he reflected that it felt like a kevlar ball gown hanging off his shoulders. He moved into the workout area, wondering how Bruce had managed the level of stealth he'd achieved with body armor this heavy. He had begun to move through his usual pre-patrol warm ups when he heard a startled sound.
"My word!" Alfred stood there, looking startled. Dick stopped, feeling vaguely guilty, as though trying on someone else's clothes.
"It suits you, sir," the old butler said formally. "Shall you be requiring Master Robin accompany you tonight?"
"You couldn't keep me away," Tim said, coming down the stairs, dressed in his uniform. "Let's go...Batman."