Gotham Arise #1
The Torch part 1: The Last Goodbye

Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain
Fandom: reboot DCU with a twist
Rating: T

One week later:

The car slowed, then came gently to a stop just outside Gotham City Park.

"We're here, Master Richard."

In the passenger seat, Dick raised his head from his hands.

"Please come, Alfred."

Alfred Pennyworth's old, gnarled hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I do not think that would be wise," he said softly.

"Alfred, If anyone deserves to be at Bruce's reception it's you."

"My dear boy, Gotham doesn't need Bruce Wayne's butler. They need his children. They need you."

Dick shook his head.

Alfred reached out a gnarled hand and raised Dick's chin. His eyes were dark and deep-set in his wrinkled face, but even still they twinkled as a small smile crossed Alfred's face.

"Consider it a favor for a tired old man who wishes to grieve in peace."

Dick looked at him. Then he leaned over and kissed Alfred's cheek. "I'm going in alone, then."

When he pulled his head back he was sure he saw a tear in the stiff old man's gray eyes. But then Alfred blinked and it was gone. "Thank you, dear boy. But remember, you are not alone, Richard. Never forget that."

Dick nodded. Then he clapped Alfred on the shoulder, turned in the seat, and opened the car door.

Gotham City Park was a beautiful four-block green in downtown Gotham, not far from Wayne Towers. Bruce Wayne had commissioned it, and paid for its upkeep and security from his own pocket. Like everywhere else in Gotham, the park got ugly at night—drug dealers and gang members liked to loiter in the shade of its trees and fountains—but unlike the rest of Gotham, the park cleaned up pretty well during the day.

As Nightwing, Dick Grayson had knocked a lot of heads in this park.

Dick couldn't remember if he'd ever visited it as himself.

A crowd of people wearing black in various states of finery and clutching smartphones stood outside the wrought-iron entrance to the park. As soon as Dick's feet hit the sidewalk they all converged on him.

"Mr. Grayson, I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you have time to answer some questions?"

"Richard, the Gothamizer sends you our condolences. What will you do now?"

"How did Mr. Wayne die, Dick?"

"Are you head of Wayne Enterprises now, Mr. Grayson?"

"Thanks for coming," Dick said over them, raising his hands. "I know Bruce would be touched. And no, no one in their right mind wants me running Wayne Enterprises, including me."

"Who will inherit Wayne Enterprises then? Tim Drake-Wayne or Damian Wayne?"

Dick raked his hand through his hair. "I, uh, don't think it works that way."

"Is it true Tim and Damian hate each other?" someone from the back called.

Dick craned his head. "Where'd you hear that?"

"So it's true?"

"Tim and Damian are brothers. Brothers fight sometimes."

"Mr. Grayson," said a reporter near the front, "where is Damian Wayne? He hasn't arrived yet."

"Yeah, he wanted to come on his own. He should be here soon."

"And he just gets to do whatever he wants?"

"Well, I'm his legal guardian as stipulated by Bruce's will. So I do have some say."

"So you're his foster father?"

"I wouldn't call myself that. Neither would he. Big brother is fine."

"As his big brother, do you stand to inherit more of the Wayne family name than he does?"

"You're talking like it's some sort of kingdom," Dick laughed. He tugged at his tie. "Look, Bruce was my family, and he did technically adopt me, but I'm not a Wayne, not in the way people think being a Wayne means. I don't get involved in the company."

"Does your refusal to associate with the Wayne legacy have anything to do with the reported fight you had with Bruce several years ago?"

"How the he—"

"Dick!"

A redheaded woman in a black dress and jacket pressed her way through the crowd. "There you are!" said Vicki Vale. "Lucius is looking for you." She gave a disdainful look around her. "Are the paparazzi bothering you again, Dick?"

Before Dick could respond, Vicki seized his arm. "Sorry, folks," she said over her shoulder as she marched Dick through them to the park gates. "You'll just have to repost from the Gotham Gazette, like you always do."

"Woah." Dick raised an eyebrow at Vicki. "Not that I'm not grateful, but wasn't that a bit harsh?"

"Maybe." Vicki's face was unapologetic.

Gotham City Park was full of people in formal black, some milling about and talking in hushed voices, some already sitting in folding chairs arranged around a black-clothed podium emblazoned with a white 'W.' Dick saw the members of the Wayne Enterprises board among the crowd, and most of the upper-level presidents, as well as reporters from the Gotham Gazette, the Metropolis Daily Planet, and several other news outlets more reputable than those that had accosted him outside the gates.

None of Dick's friends were there. The superhero community had done their mourning for Batman, and the Wayne family had had their private funeral just days ago. This reception was for Gotham, and the Bruce Wayne the city thought it knew.

Dick saw Barbara and her father near the fountain at the center of the park. He patted the hand that Vicki still had securely wrapped around his arm. "Thanks for coming, Vicki. I know Bruce meant a lot to you too."

"Of course I came, Dick. Of course." Vicki's voice had suddenly gone hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Can you believe my editor wanted me to go to the Joker Bill hearings today instead? I had to take the day off."
"The Joker what?"

"Haven't you heard? The bill that would permit the death penalty for serial mass murderers."

"They're calling it the Joker Bill?"

"He's kind of the only one who qualifies," Vicki said, with a grim twist of her mouth.

"And this is being debated—oof!"

Strong, slender arms suddenly wrapped around Dick's middle and squeezed. "Hi," said a soft voice in his ear.

"Hey, Cass."

Cassandra Cain released him and surveyed him with grave eyes. "Tim and Damian aren't here yet."

"Really? I thought Tim would be here already."

"He got held up with some WayneTech work," said Barbara, rolling up in her wheelchair. "He's coming in Damian's car."

"Oh." Dick shot a look at Vicki, who was still standing by looking more than a bit interested. "Oh."

Vicki squeezed Dick's arm one more time, then let go. "I'm intruding. I'm so sorry. I'll let you be with your family. Please excuse me, Dick. Miss Cain. Miss Gordon."

"Miss Vale," said Barbara coolly. Her expression darkened as Vicki passed by her and vanished into the black-clad crowd. "Dick, if she hasn't bugged you I'll eat my glasses."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Dick said dryly. "Regardless, I have to know: are Tim and Damian still alive?"

"As far as I know," Barbara smirked. "Tim didn't sound happy when he called me twenty minutes ago."

Dick raked his hand through his hair. "Tim was supposed to do the opening remarks."

"Is that why Lucius Fox is making a beeline for you right now?" said Barbara, nodding over Dick's shoulder.

Dick turned just as a gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

"Mr. Grayson," said Lucius Fox, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. "Do you have a moment?"

Lucius was flanked by three of the Wayne Enterprises board members, William Earle, Benjamin Coleman, and Danica Zhao. All four of them wore black suits and grave expressions.

"If this is about Tim, he's still on his way," said Dick.

"Of course. It's just that he was supposed to give the opening remarks ten minutes ago."

"Couldn't we wait a few more minutes?"

"Actually, I think it would be best if you did it, Richard," said Lucius, not unkindly.

"Please, Richard," said Danica Zhao. "You knew Bruce best of anyone here. I'm sure you can think of something to say."

"Yes, but—" How to explain that he'd already eulogized Bruce so many times—both when he'd first 'died' six months ago, and in the week since he'd died again?

"All right," said Dick. "I'll do it."

"Thank you, Richard," said William Earle. He smiled and clapped Dick heartily on the shoulder. "We know how hard this is for you, son."

"Just speak from the heart," said Lucius, looking at him sympathetically. "You don't have to say much."

Now Barbara and Cassandra were giving him concerned looks. Dick tried to compose his face into a Bruce-like stoicism. "I can do that, Lucius."

Benjamin Coleman cleared his throat. "But you might wish to address the nature of Mr. Wayne's death. The press has been on our case about it."

"Sure. You want me to do it now?"

"Please."

So it was that within a minute Dick found himself behind the black-draped podium, saying "Thank you all for coming." Dick cleared his throat. Come on, Grayson. One last goodbye, then Bruce gets to rest in peace. Do it for the boss, Robin.

"Bruce was a part of all of our lives—personally, professionally, or, more likely, some combination of the two. All of us cared deeply about him. That makes losing him that much harder, especially in this sudden way.

"You may have noticed that over the past six or so months Bruce was acting…strange. Well, stranger than usual." Dick smiled, and a few in the audience, including Cassandra, smiled back. "The truth is, Bruce's sudden passing—wasn't all that sudden. Bruce learned six months ago that he was dying."

A murmur spread through the crowd. Near the front, Dick saw Vicki Vale's mouth fall open in shock.

"Everyone copes with death differently," Dick continued. "Bruce always believed in dealing with his problems alone. It made him seem harsh, difficult, demanding. I know he often seemed that way to me, at least." Dick's eyes found Barbara in the crowd. Her head was cocked, as if listening to something else, and when she met Dick's gaze her eyes flashed.

"But I can tell you one thing about Bruce—and if you remember nothing else about Bruce Wayne then remember this—he loved Gotham. You all called him Gotham's prince; he thought of himself as Gotham's servant. He had his own way of serving, of course, and we're free to debate his methods, but the fact remains: Bruce loved Gotham. He dedicated his life to this city. I wish he was here now. So does he, I'm sure of it, because for all his love of solitude Bruce could never bear to leave others alone. Bruce didn't want to die. But he was happy, at least, to know he'd made a difference to Gotham."

Barbara's voice suddenly came over Dick's concealed earpiece. "Dick, we have a problem."

Someone tapped Dick on the arm. It was Lucius. He gripped Dick's wrist and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Richard. That was the police. Tim and Damian have been kidnapped."