HOMECOMING: PART TWO
He hadn't been to the Manor in almost a year.
He hadn't been home in almost a year.
He sat on his now still motorcycle, just outside the large iron gates that led into the property, not being able to bring up the courage to sound the buzzer.
He knew for a fact that Tim wasn't home, that he was still working with the Team on some covert spy mission. But Bruce should be in.
Bruce.
Could he really just do that to him? Just show up at his doorstep, for no good reason? The last time he had been here was when he had moved out. He clearly remembered a bitter argument, the one that led up to him storming out of his home, never turning back.
"I don't care what you say, Bruce!" Richard hollered over his shoulder as he hooked the last of his bags to his motorcycle. "Bludhaven needs a hero! I can handle it!"
"Don't shout so loud," was the stern billionaire's sharp reply as Bruce Wayne followed his ward – former ward – out and stood on the porch, arms crossed, eyes fixated in a Bat-glare. "I'm not doubting your abilities, Dick, but Bludhaven is even worse than Gotham."
"But didn't you train me for the worse? I'm not your little sidekick anymore, Bruce! I'm an adult now, I can make my own decisions. Just like you decided to give my identity to some total stranger!"
Bruce's eyes narrowed even more. "You and I both agreed you were too old to be Robin. And you were totally fine with me giving that name to Jason…"
"I said I was fine!" was the angered retort. "Gah! You were never good with feelings or emotions, Bruce! I said I was fine with it! Did you really think I liked you handing my identity to some strange kid with an attitude? No! But I'm making the best of things and moving to Bludhaven. Nightwing could do some good there." He climbed onto his bike and started the engine.
Hearing the vehicle start up seemed to hit something in the usually stern man, because Bruce's eyes widened and he took a few steps forward. "Dickie, wait…"
"Richard!" The younger man turned and gave a fairly good imitation of a Bat-glare at his former mentor. "Richard! My name is Richard! Not Dickie! Not Dick! It's Richard!"
Bruce stopped moving, and then the blank mask fell on again, and he simply said, "Good luck then, Richard." Then he turned, walked back into the Manor, and locked the door.
Richard glowered at the door for a few seconds before turning his bike and speeding away, not even looking back…
He stared at the gate buzzer, motionless as he thought back to the day he had moved out. I never should have yelled at him like that, he thought regretfully. I had always wanted him to act protective and father-like. He finally did, by not wanting me to go to Bludhaven, and I…
He couldn't bring himself to continue that train of thought. He shoved the guilt and regret into the dark corner, where the grief was still lingering in the shadows. That's what he did nowadays. Hid his heavy emotions in the back of his mind, thinking that maybe if he hid them long enough, they would just disappear.
In the months that had followed, he had become leader of the Team, Jason Todd had died, and the identity of Robin had been passed to Timothy Drake – Bruce's new foster son. Of course, Richard had called up, told Bruce it was fine, and the two started talking again…or as much as the Batman did talk over the phone or holographic projectors. He was actually becoming quite fond of Tim, being his leader and all. He was accepting the fact that he was the new Robin.
What he couldn't accept was that he was no longer Robin.
But he stopped those thoughts before they could move any farther.
Nightwing doesn't grieve. Nightwing doesn't cry. Nightwing doesn't fall to pieces, or show weakness…
And yes, whether he liked it or not, he was Nightwing. So the same rules applied to himself.
Just before he could bring himself to either drive away or go inside, a British-accented voice came through the speaker. "Hello? Who is there?"
Richard's breath caught in his throat, and it took him a few seconds to regain his composure and slowly press the /REPLY/ button. "Um…hey, Alfred."
There was a burst of static. "Master Richard?"
He couldn't smile at the surprise he heard laced in his old butler's voice. Alfred was never caught off guard. Is my presence here really that shocking? He replied out loud, "Yea, Alfie. It's me."
More static, and then slowly, the gates began opening. "Come inside, Master Richard," Alfred's voice, now calm and composed once again, stated. "Master Bruce isn't home at the moment, but he'll be returning at any minute. I suppose you know that Tim is gone for the evening."
"Yea, I know." He cut the transmission, and rode his bike up the long, winding driveway that led to the Manor.
He parked it in front of porch and in three long strides, he was in front of that large green door. He remembered racing in and out of the house using this door, coming home from Gotham Academy, zipping in on Wally's back while the redhead used his super-speed…
Once again, he forced the memories away, and gingerly knocked on the hard wood. It felt strange to knock, but appropriate. This wasn't his house anymore – it belonged to Bruce and Tim.
He felt like a prodigal son of sorts.
It only took a half second before Alfred was standing before him. Richard realized that he was now taller than the elder, and almost smiled. Almost.
"Master Richard, come in." As collected and unruffled as ever. Richard stepped into the Manor and observed the place with narrowed eyes.
It seemed nothing had changed. Same stupid wallpaper. Same tiled floor, same boring but sophisticated décor.
The door closed behind him, and then the two men just stood awkwardly in the lobby for several minutes before Alfred finally spoke up. "I'm surprised to see you here at the Manor, Master Richard. I figured you'd be busy with your Team, or perhaps fighting criminals in Bludhaven."
So he doesn't know. Hm, I assumed Bruce wouldn't told him. "I'm surprised you haven't heard, Alfred," he said, trying to sound nonchalant and only succeeding in sounding strained. "I, uh, I took a temporary leave of absence from the Team."
Once again, he had managed to catch the great Alfred Pennyworth off guard. "Sir? You've…you've quit the Young Justice?"
"What? No, Alfred, I didn't quit. Like I said before, temporary leave of absence. I needed a break." The whole time, he stared at the marble floor, trying to gain control of the conflicting emotions he knew were visible on his expression. "I suppose you also don't know that Wally…died."
"No, sir, I did not. I'm…sorry, to hear that, Master Richard." The butler's tone seemed to soften a bit as he said that, and Richard was sure that if he looked up, he would see sympathy woven in the wrinkles of the old Bat's face. "I am glad that you have come home."
"It's just a visit, Alfie. I'm not even sure why I came here." He ran a hand through his thick mop of raven hair, still focusing a bit too much on the tile flooring. "I guess I need to talk to the B-man."
He sensed rather than saw Alfred's curt nod. "Very well. Your room is still fully intact since you were last here, Master Richard. I will inform Master Bruce when he returns from his conference at Wayne Tech."
"Sure, okay. I'm gonna head into the cave for a while." He didn't wait for a response, instead made his way through the various halls and lobbies until he reached the living room. He made his way to the old grandfather clock, looking softly upon the old woodwork and the hands that were never set at the right time. Slowly, he reached up and turned the tiny needles so they were pointing in the right direction. There was a creaking sound, then a groan, before the wall where the clock stood again, spun inward, revealing the passageway that would take him to the Bat-cave.
As he descended the stairs, he couldn't help but feel like an intruder. He noticed the cave had not changed at all, either – his acrobatics equipment was still set up in the corner, though he assumed that was because Tim used them to train. He found himself settling in front of the computer, and staring at the screens, feeling once again like he had when he was a small nine-year-old boy and had stumbled into the cave for a first time.
He scowled. He didn't like feeling like a stranger. He had once been the Batman's partner, Bruce Wayne's foster son, member of the Team. He didn't like having the sense he shouldn't be there at all, and it took him several minutes to shake off the sentiment and tentatively begin typing on the keyboard.
At first he simply clicked through various files, roamed the different documents and resource links. This wasn't the Batman's main computer – that was off limits to everyone. This was the one that he had used as a kid, and probably the one Tim used now. He felt more at home at the computer than he would have up in the Manor or any other part of the cave. His fingers flew across the keys, and his lips twitched into another almost smile. He may be Nightwing, but he was still the expert hacker he had been when he was younger.
At least some things haven't changed.
His instincts drew him to override the security functions for the Justice League, and soon he had access to both Watchtower and Mt. Justice video feeds, recordings, records, and mission data. He somehow wandered to the security footage that had been installed in the mountain, and suddenly he was desperately roaming through dates and timelines.
There. It was still there. Old footage from five years ago. After hesitating about a gazillion times, he finally galled up and clicked a date.
/LOADING ::: LOADING ::: MOUNT JUSTICE ::: AUGUST 5TH ::: 2011 ::: 6:00pm ::: LOADING ::: LOADING/
The footage popped up, and Richard found himself staring at a group of six teens in the Mt. Justice training room. His eyes rested on a speeding, yellow figure, and he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms as he watched a fifteen-year-old Wally West race and zip around the room, obviously taunting the blonde girl in the green uniform. Artemis.
/ "Can't touch me, Blondie! Can't even poke me!" the redhead was shouting on the screen. /
/ Artemis fitted an arrow in her signature bow and desperately tried aiming for the speedster, her face etched with a scowl. "Slow down a bit, Kid Idiot, and we'll test that theory!" /
Richard thought back to three hours ago, Artemis lying in the snow, sobbing for her dead lover. He quickly refocused his mind back to the footage.
/ Aqualad finally managed to win a sparring match against Superboy, and the Atlantian chuckled lightly as the metahuman crashed against the ground. "You did well, my friend," Kaldur said as he helped the fallen Kryptonian clone off the ground. /
/ Superboy gave a quick nod, and then walked over to where M'gann was cheering for him on the set of tiny bleachers that rested against the wall. /
The video zoomed up to where Artemis finally managed to shoot a punching-glove arrow at Wally.
/ The Kid Flash was knocked breathless onto the ground, where a little holographic FAIL sign appeared above him from the training floor. There were bursts of laughter from around the room. /
Richard tensed when he recognized one of the high-pitched cackled that suddenly filled his ears. And then he tensed even more when the thirteen-year-old version of himself walked into the footage, laughing and running towards Wally.
/ "That was totally asterous!" the Boy Wonder exclaimed as he ran over to his best friend and helped him back to his feet. "Ooh, ooh! Can you do it again!" /
/ Artemis crossed her arms and scowled. "That wasn't for entertainment – I'm just disappointment I didn't kill the moron! Laugh it up, Boy Blunder, cause you're next… Wait… Robin?" /
/ Robin had disappeared, and while Artemis groaned, Wally's head whipped back and forth, searching for the bird. "Where did he… Ugh! I hate it when he does that!" /
Had he really once been that happy? That carefree? He remembered making up words and laughing like that, yes, but it was like a foggy dream. A distant memory. He hadn't acted like that since leaving Gotham. Before that, even. When he had been so caught up in being an adult, he had left all of his childhood merriment behind and traded it in for a cold dullness that only the Batman could relate to.
He thought back to the months leading up to his 'moving out' day. The day he left for Bludhaven, he and Wally had gone to the movies and then the park. That had also been the same time when Wally and Artemis had retired from hero duty so they could live together and attempt normal lives. Wally took his girlfriend to live in Central City, and he had gone to Bludhaven. They had been best friends, but the distance and everyday life had made keeping in contact difficult. Richard grimaced when he realized how distant he had become from all his old friends. Even when with the Team, he was more leader than friend.
Nightwing didn't need friends.
Richard Grayson missed all his old ones.
Wally. He had trusted that quick-talking speedster with his true identity, even against the Batman's wishes. And the redhead had never told a soul. And the redhead had never told a soul. Even when he had later told the team he was Richard Grayson, Wally had never mentioned that he had known before.
He continued sitting there, staring at the screen and scowling.
.
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.
Bruce Wayne pulled his car in through the garage, parked the Ferrari, and then made his way into the house, carrying his briefcase and wishing for all the world that the people at Wayne Tech would invent some sort of speed conference, where hours of sitting in a room and rambling wasn't a necessity. He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the dish rack, barley noticing Alfred approaching to talk with him. "I hate those conferences, Alfred," the billionaire/crime-fighter grumbled as he filled his glass with water. "Seriously, I'm the owner of that company! I should find a replacement. I'll deal with all the boss stuff, and the replacement can attend all the meetings, because I've just about had it with all those suited-up stiffs all arguing and grumbling and…"
"Master Richard is home, sir."
"…and going on and on about budget cuts and high taxes and… Wait, what?" Bruce nearly choked on his drink as he slammed the glass down and turned to his own father-figure, eyes wide. "Richard's back?"
"He's down in the Bat-cave," the grey-haired servant explained. "I'm not sure why he's here – he didn't sound too sure himself. Are you aware that he left the Team?"
A quick nod. "Aqualad filled me in."
"You're also aware that Mr. West…"
"Is dead, yes. Like I said, Aqualad filled me in. So did Barry." Barry being Wallace's uncle, and a constant visitor to the Dark Knight, it hadn't taken long for the Gotham vigilante to hear the news. "The League set up a memorial for him in the Watchtower. We paid the Kid Flash our respects, and Bart Allen has agreed to respect his memory by carrying on his legacy as the new Kid Flash, leaving the identity Impulse behind him. We've sorted things out."
Alfred eyed the man he had raised as his son with a gruff demeanor typical of all Bats. "Have you spoken with Master Richard?"
"No. I didn't have to, Alfred, I told you that Aqualad…"
"Not about the mission." Was it his imagination, or was the butler sneering at him? "About Mr. West's passing, the abandonment of the Team, and the obvious stress which has caused Master Richard to return here after an entire year of being in Bludhaven without a single visit."
Alfred has always cared deeply for his foster son, Bruce knew that. So he assumed it was just the fatherly side of the old butler coming out, and gave a small shrug. "Richard made it quite clear the last time he was here that he wishes to be treated as a full and proper adult, Alfred. If he wants to stop by the Bat-cave, he's free to do so. It's not like I can prevent him from doing so." He wanted to get off this topic about his former ward. Richard was now an adult – he wasn't his responsibility anymore. At least, that's what the Dark Knight kept telling himself. "When's dinner, Alfred?"
Knowing that the man couldn't be pushed any further, the reply was, "In ten minutes, sir. Might I request you go and see if Master Richard wishes to join us for the evening supper?"
"He's probably only here to get some stuff from the cave, Alfred, I…"
There it was, the infamous Bat-glare; more like the Alfred-stare, which could look far more menacing than one would think. Bruce glared back for only a second before sighing sharply. "Fine. I'll go check on him."
He stormed out of the kitchen, allowing Alfred a moment to smirk and shake his head.
.
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.
He wasn't sure what he had been expecting Richard to be doing – certainly not sitting at the computer, watching five-year-old security footage of his old Team at the cave. But considering Wallace dying, I shouldn't be too surprised. After that thought came a harsher one. I'm the Batman! I shouldn't be surprised at all.
He stood several feet away from where his former protégé was seating, glowering at a screen, which showed the original Young Justice Team training at the mountain. Seeing the frown that appeared to be permanently etched into the young man's features, Bruce crossed his arms and stared. Since when has Di…Richard been so much like…me? Being cold and emotionless was the Batman's job. Not Nightwing's. But then again, he had never really seen Nightwing in action before, hadn't seen him except for missions in a while. He had no right to judge.
He finally decided to make his presence known, and cleared his throat. He saw Richard visibly tense and tighten up, but didn't acknowledge him.
Not acceptable.
"Richard, what are you doing here?" The question came out more hot and irritating than he had originally planned. He tried softening his tone – didn't work. "You haven't been to the cave in over a year. Is something wrong?"
"I don't know." Richard gave him a response, but didn't turn or look at him. His tone was dry and lifeless. "Wally's dead. I quit the Team. Batgirl took my place."
"Aqualad told me you suggested that Barbara fill in for you during your 'leave of absence'. Wanna tell me what that's all about."
"Not really."
"You can't just walk out on your team for no good reason."
"I have a reason." Richard stood up abruptly, and spun around to face the older man. His bright eyes were shining with a strange gleam Bruce didn't recognize. "I needed a break. Desperately. I need time to sort things out. I didn't quit on my team – I'm just…"
"The leave of absence, I know," Bruce interrupted him sternly. "Then why did you come here, Richard? You should be in Bludhaven, sorting your problems out, and then getting back to work. You cannot allow your emotions or personal problems interfere with hero work. It's not proper, it's not acceptable…"
"Of course it's not acceptable! Not by your standards!" There was fire in his eyes now as he glared at his old foster father. His former guardian. His former partner, his former mentor. How did our partnership fall apart to this? In his mind, he thought I don't want to fight with you, Bruce. But out loud, he was shouting "Nothing I ever did was good enough for you! The Dark Knight! The Batman! I was never good enough for you!"
Richard's words stung, but of course Bruce didn't show that. He kept his face void of all emotion as he said, "You still had much to learn. You still have much to learn. You are grieving over Wallace's death, and you are letting it get in the way of your true mission – as a hero, and a leader to your team."
"I'm not grieving! Nightwing does not grieve!"
"You are Nightwing. And if you aren't sad over the death of the Kid Flash, then what is wrong with you? Why did you come here?"
Honestly – Richard had no answer to that question. Instead, his mind was buzzing with a million thoughts a minute. He had come here, home, to try and find a piece that seemed missing from his life. He hadn't come to argue with his old foster dad, the man he deeply cared about but didn't know how to say it. He knew Bruce held some affection for him…
…it was the Batman that he was unsure of.
Bruce Wayne cared about Richard Grayson, but did the Batman care about his old Robin? Nightwing?
As Richard stared the man down, even though it was Bruce Wayne that returned his fiery glare, the question haunted him.
Part 2 of 3. One more to go! :)
I really hope this story doesn't suck TOO much. Please review! :D
My first YJ fic. Forgive any mistakes or OOC.
