-In hallowed halls, they weep.

To hurt is as human as to breathe. -J. K. ROWLING

One by one they arrive, and amass together in the sitting room. It seems the door never closes, Alfred shepherding individuals from the lonely halls and front parlor to the overfilling couches of the den. Some of them are jet lagged and clad in pajamas, others seem weary in finely pressed suits, and the most foreboding simply stare at Dick from behind their various masks. He has collected them, ripped them from their lives in a manner very similar to the way he was ripped from his. The time is seven minutes past nine, but Dick won't let any of them go. Not when he's spent all the daylight hours clutching a sobbing ten year old until he'd finally fallen asleep. These people deserve to know before the news goes public, but Dick wished he could spare them the hurt. He would take it all if he could.

One by one they arrived, one by one Dick pulled them from the mass in which they had gathered. He separated them like a wolf singling off its prey. It didn't matter that they gazed at him with suspicion, that they wondered aloud and pointedly about why whoever went with Dick did not return. He'd still yet to remove his costume, the vibrant blue insignia painting a target across his chest.

Some were easier to handle than others, in fact Dick honed in on those whose reactions would be of a more tamed variety. The longer he could postpone the hysterics the longer he could prevent their pain.

Lucius was a smart man, Alfred insisted on being the one to break the news.

Jim Gordon, bless the man's heart, seemed to know without Dick saying a word. He held him like a son, a few slipped tears catching in his greying mustache.

The two of them were the easiest, they'd seen Bruce's mortality probably even before Dick had realized it existed. But after the two men had been checked off of Dick's mental list it seemed he had no other easy ways out.

"Barry." Dick sat the speedster down, grateful for Wally's support in the situation. When he managed to leave the room there wasn't a dry eye to be found and Dick had to take a moment to stand stock still beside the door. Bruce would never know how much he meant to people, and Dick hated him for it. From there the pain kept multiplying, the walk down the hall to a room unoccupied by broken friends kept getting longer.

"Diana."

"Hal."

"Kate."

"Selina."

"Oliver, Dinah."

The crowd hardly seemed to thin.

Swallowing thickly, and shutting the door against Dinah's quiet sobs and Oliver's pained silence he made the slow descent back to hell. Each step flooded his system with dread as he practically dragged them back toward the den. The couches were mostly empty now, only his sisters remaining. Dick didn't try to move them, and from the way Stephanie rushed him in a flurry of hard hitting blonde he knew that the message he'd been relaying all night was one they already knew.

Her petite fists beat weakly against his Kevlar plated chest. The amount of obscenities pouring from her delicate lips went unheard as he simply wrapped his arms around her and brought her to the floor. Dick let her sob and scream, Alfred standing at a loss behind them. He made no move as Cassie came forward and pulled the runny nosed, puffy eyed blonde from his grip and ushered her toward the kitchen.

His lips were still forming words even as the ear he was whispering in was pulled away, a slow mantra as he stared after them. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He felt more than saw the wheel chair approach him, a gentle hand drawing his sorrow darkened eyes upward. Barbara stroked his hair tenderly, not minding that he still hadn't showered away the stale grime of his last patrol. "Everyone knows now, everyone knows." He leaned his tired head against the knees of his best friend, of the woman he'd longed to marry. But then her hand stopped moving and a voice that cut Dick to the core sliced through the grief heavy silence.

"So I suppose I don't count under 'everybody' do I?"

Dick's eyes shot open, though he couldn't remember closing them.

"Tim."

Anger and pain rippled off the teen, the rain dripping from his soaked hair camouflaging the tears Dick was sure were rolling from beneath the mask that still remained on the other's face.

In a swirl of cape the younger rushed back toward the front door from which he'd just entered. A surge of urgency shot Dick to his feet. Blood rushed from his head and the world grayed as his lead heavy feet tangled together and sent him gracelessly to his knees.

"Timmy!" The squelching footsteps across rain dampened marble came to a sudden stop. After all the sight of Dick Grayson kneeling in the hallowed halls of Wayne manor was jaw dropping one.

Staggering to his weary feet Dick stared at his little brother with pleading and apologetic eyes. His miss count of Tim's presence had been an honest mistake, one made by his own exhaustion. "Don't go Tim, please don't go." Dick was too drained to make the other stay and his pleading seemed to go unheard.

"I have to, there's someone else you seem to have excluded from 'everybody.' Despite it all Todd still deserves to know." Never would Dick have expected that response and the guilt that shot through him…screw whelming, the crushing weight of it all was overwhelming.

Tim's voice was thick, an obvious effort being made to keep the flood of emotions from spilling untamed past his lips. He took one step, one step that in Dick's opinion was one too far.

"I won't let you." Rushing once again to his unsteady feet Dick tried to step between Tim and the door only to be slammed down into the marble, his ears left ringing from the impact.

"You're not Batman, who are you to stop me?" The raw grief laced in Tim's voice shattered any of Dick's resolve to get up again. With the words of his little brother ringing in his ear, Dick laid still. And his costume clad brother disappeared into the worst storm Gotham had seen in over a decade.

Dick was appalled with himself, a deep seeded self-loathing taking form as he peeled himself off the marble with Alfred's disturbingly silent aid. Because of all the things he'd done the day before, and tonight...letting Tim go was the easiest.

AN: Timmy has finally arrived, and I have it on good authority that Jaybird is well on his way. I promise a full bat-clan (or really a bat-brother-clan) soon. Sadly the glossed over nature of the girls involvement will remain as such. I love them, but I simply can't write them at length. As always love for the reviewers. :)