-Call to arms.
"If a train is coming at you, closing your eyes won't save you ... but if you look right at it, you at least have a chance to jump." ― Andrew Vachss
Wind whistled through the freshly boarded window, tugging at Roy's ruffled hair. A creak on the floor boards had him subtly drawing an arrow from the quiver he'd been restocking. In one fluid motion he had the tip poised squarely at a leather covered chest.
"Jesus."
Roy relaxed, lowering the fatally poised projectile.
Jason stepped from the shadows, a cookie in his mouth and an eyebrow arched. "Sorry Roy boy, but I'm only holy after gunshot or two."
The archer could sense the blue-green orbs staring holes into his chest, whether it was with suspicion or surprise he'd never know. "You're gonna get shot for doing that one day, and I don't miss." There was a hint of a threat in his voice though it wavered under the weight of gratitude. Roy had been wearing thin, patrolling all of Gotham with only the occasional helping hand had proved tiring. He understood the need for all of the batclan's members to take a breather, but word was getting around about the big bats absence and it wasn't helping him any.
"Wouldn't have done ya much good," Jason trapped the shirt beneath his biker jacket, the sound surprisingly solid. "Kevlar weaved tunic."
Roy arched an eyebrow at that, the domino mask pulling at his skin. It was standard bat issue, but Jason hadn't had it when they'd left. Hell he'd personally had to raid Nightwing's closet when his red hoodie had failed against the onslaught of bullets that rained down upon them from time to time, if Dick had noticed or minded for that matter he hadn't said anything about it.
Roy couldn't help it, the slight swell of concern that rose in his chest. Jason had been good to him; as good as he was capable of being. Roy's first loyalty was to the world's innocent but the Rod Hood and the man behind it came in a close second. But that loyalty couldn't erase the fact that Dick Grayson had saved his skin in and out of costume with more determination than even his so called father. If he could help it, he wouldn't let harm befall either of the two.
Rubbing his neck hesitantly he decided to press his luck, Jason had been more talkative that he had been in months and the ass owed him for taking on the job of handling the scum of Gotham solo for a nearly a whole damn week.
"How is he?" Roy only truly cared to ask of one, selfish considering the ties he held to the extensive clan, he knew.
Jason grunted and almost didn't give an answer as he pulled on his signature red hood, zipping his jacket over the stolen supplies.
"He's hurting…a lot. But he's alive, for now anyway."
Without waiting for reply or checking to see if his occasional acquaintance was following, Jason punched out the boards Roy had replaced, landing on the rusted fire escape with an ominous groan from the strained metal. Taking a quick inventory of the alley, he swept down into the streets, guns loaded.
Roy's worry was eased slightly, and then reignited into a fiery blaze. Even when he'd hated Dick Grayson, he'd never wished for the man to suffer. Someone so optimistic so good, just didn't deserve the pain of it all.
Pinching his eyes shut behind his mask, the archer snatched a cookie from the bag Jason had abandoned. It was the last one left and he could easily read the subtle thank you meant behind it. A scream split the air, followed closely by the heavy footfalls of a homicidal but loveable vigilante. Stringing an arrow, Roy followed swiftly after him.
Against the dark underbellies of the clouds above a batsignal lit the night sky.
Gotham's call to arms—
Silently the reporters lips moved, the word mute glowing in the corner of the computer screen. Dick had seen the story twice already, a group of dockside thugs bound, gagged, but alive and delivered to the front steps of the county court house. Lined up shoulder to shoulder the spray painted mark on their exposed chests formed an obvious symbol, the bat symbol.
"Message received Jaybird." Rubbing his face tiredly he dissolved the screen at the sound of approaching footsteps, trying to pretend he hadn't been speaking aloud to a chunk of technology. As he swiveled in the chair Dick couldn't help the way his face fell when he caught sight of Tim. Despite nearly being an adult himself, his little brother looked so tiny and vulnerable in the enormity of the great cave.
"Tim."
The grave tone to his brother's voice startled the boy in question, while Dick hadn't been his usual ball of sunshine; the brooding grimace was still disturbing to say the least. Stopping where he stood, Tim eyed the cowl in Dick's hand and noted the way his thumbs wouldn't stop sliding along the fabric. Perhaps his brother had finally made the seemingly inevitable choice. Gotham needed a Batman after all.
It would explain the tension, the guilt. His older brother was always being a sucker to his emotions.
"You're my equal, in some ways even better. You've proven your strength in both mind and body, with the Titans and here. But your nearly an adult and there comes a time when you have to take up your own identity, launch your own crusade against the world's evils. This is your time…"
The words sounded rehearsed, even to Dick's own ears and he couldn't help but to crush the ink smeared note card he held in his fist. Seeing the waver in his brother's eyes nearly broke him but he had to think about what was best for both of his youngest brothers. Tim could and would eventually handle himself, but Damian; he needed an outlet and one with a great deal of structure.
Tim shrank back a couple of steps, hearing his brother's words without entirely understanding them.
"Dick…Dick, what are you doing?" His voice was barely above a whisper, fresh tears threatening to spill. This was all he had left of Bruce, he couldn't— he wouldn't let it go.
"I'm sorry," Dick's eyes radiated the apology, knowing the pain of replacement himself. "But Batman is firing another Robin."
Sucking in a breath, Tim tried to ignore the sound of his world exploding for the second time in only six days. Turning on his heel he tried to run, a firm grip on his wrist pulling him to a stop.
"Where are you going?"
Jerking out of his brother's grip Tim shook his head. "Leaving, I'm fired aren't I?" He spat the words with venom he soon regretted; he didn't need to look at his brother to see how the tone had hurt him.
"As Robin, not as my brother, or ward— My equal or not you are seventeen." The logic was firm but Tim was ready to rival it, anything to escape the cave with a shred of dignity.
"If you trust me as your equal, let me go." Dick's grip faltered and fell away, Tim almost appreciated it. "Let me go find…" He was tempted to say Bruce but thought better of the outlandish comment. "-my own way."
There was a hesitance in Dick's eyes a desperate plea to not lose another loved one in such quick succession. "Write me, call me, any and every form of regular contact and no matter what… home by Christmas with a beating heart and a sound mind."
It was the closest thing to permission Tim would get and he leapt at the chance, sprinting toward the stairs. Once he stood at the entrance he allowed himself to glance back just slightly. This sight of his brother's crestfallen form, hunched under an invisible weight would haunt him every step of his journey. It wasn't till he was sitting in Gotham's International airport that he found the strength to text his brother the words he should have said.
"I love you. I forgive you. I believe in you."
With an undeniable sense of curiosity Damian had watched Drake storm from the study, having been down in the cave where Grayson had been lurking all morning. Pennyworth had seemed as perplexed as he when the troublesome teen had torn through the house, stuffing anything he considered worthy into an overly large duffle bag.
Beyond his hearing range was a quick exchange between the butler and the boy, somewhere along the line Damian was sure a bag of cookies and a wad of cash had been handed to the seemingly departing Drake. With a baseball cap pulled down over his face, obscuring most of it, his so called brother had paused with one hand on the front door. Powder blue eyes had looked up teary and intense, with a warning that Damian did not quite grasp.
Slipping from his seat before Pennyworth could stop him Damian wandered down to the cave. Grayson was standing with his fists clutching at a mass of fabric. His eyes flickered upward and while he was quick to conceal it Damian hadn't missed the bone chilling hollowness that had haunted the other's eyes.
Edging closer he pointed brazenly toward the costume Grayson was gripping so strongly, one eyebrow cocked curiously.
"What is that?"
Without warning Dick had shoved it into his slightly outstretched arms, pulling a halfhearted smile.
"Something Bruce would have wanted you to have." Dick replied with a slight ruffle of his little brother's midnight locks.
With slight awe Damian took in the hood of the costume and the nature of its flamboyance. He traced the signature 'R' with gentle reverence. It was not the legacy of his father but it was a step in the right direction. And though he would argue otherwise Damian whispered a quiet 'thank you.'
Thirty thousand feet above earth Tim was settled into his plane seat, bound for Paris. Spinning a blank disc lightly on his fingertip he thought back to the audio chip he'd left in Bruce's desk drawer and if it would have been a good idea to inform Dick of its contents, if it would somehow ease the pain his older brother had seemed to be drowning in.
There was a reason the chip had survived Jason's attack, Tim just knew it.
Sliding the ripped copy into his laptop he plugged in a pair of headphones. Static filled his ears the clarity was minimal and the speech to Damian lost forever… but the ending, Bruce's true parting words remained oddly intact.
"Give me a moment boys, to be the father I never was. Let me say the words I should have said in person and that I now regret I didn't. I am proud of each of you…and I love you so very much."
AN: Soooo, tonight is going to be a double upload of the final two chapters of 'All My Brothers.' Remember to click that next button for zee final chapter, and as always a loving thanks to the reviewers.