Come What May

by DC Luder

Sixth story in the Series of Three. Not long after having their world turned upside down, the Family must face the combined threat of an old foe and friend. Chapter 13: When push comes to shove...

5. Come What May: V

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family spends the holiday helping others, day and night.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Small excerpt of The BFG by Roald Dahl in Selina's POV. "Let's talk for a long time" is a nod to The Office.

^V^

"Wait, so let me get this straight… there's no… Thanksgiving?"

I rolled my eyes at Dick as I turned my blinker on, barely making the exit for the airport amidst the traffic. Even though it was Sunday morning, everyone seemed to be fighting one another to flee the city, or those daring enough, were returning. Jim's flight was roughly a half of an hour from landing but I knew it was going to be a nightmare getting a decent spot in the pick-up lane.

"We are having dinner at our place," I explained, "You, me, Egg-man, Jim and Mattie and Nate. I invited Will and Ronna since his girls are going to be in New York with their mother. He said he would let me know by tomorrow, depends on how well the Jets played… or something ridiculous like that."

Dick shifted in his seat, contemplating his next question for over a minute. As I battled getting to the Terminal Five exit, he finally asked, "But who is going to cook?"

Ethan began to stir in the backseat of the Range Rover and without even looking over my shoulder, I knew he had dropped his Franklin the Turtle plush toy. After pointing it out to Dick, I replied, "I am cooking. And Mattie."

Reaching back to hand our son his beloved possession, Dick smirked, "Oh... Well, then I can't wait."

Much like two years earlier, the Family was separated for Thanksgiving. Bruce and Selina had the entire week dedicated to various projects in the East End, highlighted by serving meals all day on Thursday. Mattie was still trying to convince them to let her help out as well but as of the last time I had spoken with Selina, both of the Wayne children were joining the Gordon clan for the holiday.

Not that being forbidden to do something had stopped Mattie before…

As a black Escalade cut us off, Dick said, "Well, what are Tim and Cass doing?"

I waited until we were moving again, albeit at three miles per hour, before responding, "Well, I asked Tim last night if they wanted to join us and he never answered."

"Did you ask him last night while he was walking the dog or while he was beating up no-good doers?"

Nodding, I admitted, "Both… But I have to call him later today anyway."

"Call him now," Dick then sat back, "Oh wait, some people get to sleep in on Sundays…"

I reached over and smacked him in the chest, "Shut it. I bought breakfast at IHOP."

"Big spender," he chided.

"After waiting in line for thirty minutes," I quickly added, "Yes, big spender."

He was silent again before responding, "Have I told you that I love you yet today?"

"You have now," I finally smiled at him.

Having officially returned to the guise of Nightwing, the final piece that had been missing from my husband's demeanor had returned. So had the late night quips on the comm. link, dinner leftovers never making it to the next day and his trying to sneak into bed without waking me. Although I enjoyed his return, it was evident that Tim and Cass were adapting to once more working alongside their cheerier counterpart, often asking me if I had any assignments that would lead him to Bludhaven.

Maybe I could make something up to lure them to share dinner with us…

"Oh Egg-man, what's the matter?" I heard Dick ask. Even having been returned his beloved turtle, he was still fussing in his car seat.

"Probably needs a diaper change after his breakfast of champions," I suggested as we halted in motionless traffic.

"Maybe he wants juice…" Dick reached into the back seat and began searching the diaper bag.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, I smirked and added, "Nope. That is a poop face if I've ever seen one."

When Dick sat upright in his seat, he sighed in defeat. I pointed out the glass double doors of the airport atrium, "There… the atrium for American Airlines. Men's room should be on the right side… We're certainly not going anywhere fast and if you hustle, I bet you could even hit up the coffee stand on your way back."

"But-."

A stern look later, I was alone in the car, listening to Ethan's compilation toddler CD and checking out flight updates on my Blackberry. Jim was still due to land right on time and after scoping out the weather application, I was pleased to find that it was actually going to be above freezing that afternoon. Snow was due later in the week, not more than two inches, but certainly enough to try out Ethan's new snow suit.

I took another few minutes to clean out both my personal and work in box. Dinah wanted to drop by at some point in the week, the JLA had a meeting on Wednesday and wanted my input on a new hacker and Selina had sent me a picture of Nathan with a chocolate milk mustache. Knowing Dinah was still making her way home from Paris after a one-woman mission and that it was too early for me to deal whomever was on monitor duty at the Watchtower, I was left with one choice for conversation.

Selina answered her cell on the third ring, her voice light and on the verge of laughter, "Good morning."

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I've been up for a while… been trying to summon the dead body beside me back to life… Physical assault and oxygen deprivation has failed, as have various shocking statements."

"Sleeping Beauty," I chided.

She sighed in defeat, "So far not even a lip twitch, and I even said I dyed my hair blond."

"You should try something about Mattie," I smirked.

"Good one… Hey, Bruce… Mattie snuck Terry into her room again… There's loud music… and-."

I heard a muffled, "Whuh?" on the other end and barely contained my snicker.

Selina continued, "Just kidding, dear," and then to me, "You picking Jim up?"

"Yeah," I sat back slightly, reluctantly putting the vehicle into park, "Should be landing soon, now it's a matter if I can get up to the arrival doorway."

"Hey, Bruce offered to fly him in."

I heard the muffled voice ask, "Offered to fly who in?"

She answered him before speaking to me, "Nothing, Deafman… So, were you able to rouse your husband this morning?"

"I did, after promising pancakes. He just ran in to change Ethan at the airport… just had the car detailed yesterday, kind of a shame to waste it already on diaper duty."

"Ah, the joy of traveling with babies, big and small… Well, speaking of big babies, I should make amends, I suppose. If you want to do dinner this week, I'm sure we can squeeze something in. Seeing how Thursday is a kind of a bust."

"Sure thing."

As I hung up, I spotted Dick approaching, Ethan sitting proudly on his father's shoulders. With the diaper bag strap crossing his chest, Dick had one hand securing Ethan and the other holding a small cardboard tray of white and blue coffee cups and a matching paper bag. I unlocked the door as he stepped off of the curb, leaning over to open it for him.

Dick handed over the coffee and treats while saying, "Amazing how quickly people let you jump to the front of the line when you have a baby."

"You didn't play the single father card, did you?" I rose my brow at him.

He cleared his throat before replying, "All I said was that I was alone… which technically was true. At the time."

I smirked as he shut his door before stepping around back of the vehicle. With the rear view mirrors, I watched as he loaded our toddler back into the car seat, "Whew, no wonder he was fussy. Any DVD's back here, looks like we're going to be here for a while."

"Should be in the pocket behind the passenger seat," I answered. After a beat, I found myself asking, "So… Has Tim said anything to you about telling Bruce, about the letter?"

"I don't know… I would imagine he would have by now," Dick replied as he popped in a disc into the system installed in the ceiling. Turning the volume up slightly, he hit play and shut the back door. By the time he made it to the front seat, I deduced that our child was watching The Rescuers. Dick had searched the internet for the last six months, collecting a cache of movies he had enjoyed as a child. His reasoning for the ridiculous Amazon bills was that he had wanted his son to experience entertainment beyond modern CGI films.

At least it gave me an opportunity to watch Fern Gully.

Once seated, he continued, "I mean, he knows dealing with Bruce is like taking off a bandage. The quicker you get it done with, the better. The longer you put it off, the more likely you'll end up crying."

I waited as he searched the paper bag and retrieved a small lemon square, breaking it in half and sending the small piece back to Ethan. When Dick ate the other half in one bite, I shook my head and noted, "He said he was going to do it all week long and then I called him on it last night… If did finally tell him, Bruce wouldn't been sleeping in."

"How do you know he's sleeping in?" After I rehashed my brief chat with Selina, he sighed, "Yeah… he definitely would not be indulging in a Lazy Sunday. I was thinking about heading up to the Manor later, after lunch. Get in a good work on the uneven bars and the rings… Maybe I'll knock some sense into Tim while I'm up there."

"Good idea." Before I could check to see if arrival times had changed in the last few minutes, the car in front of us moved and I pushed the shifter into drive, slowly inching along.

It may have been the first documented instance when Family drama had trumped Bat drama, but Tim had failed to inform Bruce of a letter he had received at the beginning of the month. Granted, it had taken nearly two weeks of combined work to verify the handwriting and origins and that it was in fact from Talia, but he still had not stepped up to the plate. I knew that it wasn't my position to say anything, but it was certainly not in my best interest for Bruce to be out of the loop.

I had last spoken to Tim about the matter the night before, briefly inquiring how it had gone with Bruce. He had been in the Cave, just closing up on the computer before calling it a night. He had hesitated before admitting that he was going to do it Sunday, after he worked work with Mattie. I had done my best to remain passive, but he must have sensed my apprehension on the monitor. Shaking his head, Tim had reached up and pulled on his damp hair briefly, "I know. It's stupid… I just… It doesn't mean anything. It certainly hasn't helped us pinpoint a location for her or Ra's… if he is even alive…"

"Never doubt the livelihood of an immortal environmentalist nut job."

He had sighed before adding, "I think I should tell Clark. At the JLA meeting."

"You're going to that?"

"I'm still a member, reserve status, but still…" he had paused to look directly up at my image, "If Ra's is alive, he's just as much of a threat to them as he is to us."

I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from replying that if he told the JLA before Bruce, it was not going to be a Happy Thanksgiving in Gotham for anyone.

A horn honk drew my attention the present and I slowly crept forward. Dick was rustling in the bag again, asking if I wanted to split a raspberry and white chocolate scone.

"No, coffee will do."

He opened the top for me and set it in the cup holder nearest me, "Maybe we should just tell him."

"We as in me, you mean?"

Dick nodded, "Well, at least we know if he gets angry at you, he's less likely to punch you in the face." When I didn't respond, he added, "What, too soon?"

"If you want to joke about it, go for it." It being the fact that earlier in the year when Huntress had been tortured to death by the Joker, Bruce had accused Dick of exposing the Family's identities to her. Although he had kept his cool for most of the feud, Dick had finally lost control of his tongue and accused Bruce of having as much blood on his own hands as he was accusing Dick of having. The disagreement ended promptly when Bruce knocked Dick to the ground with one punch, in perfect view of his eavesdropping daughter.

It was all in the past, I reminded myself.

My phone chirped and Dick retrieved it from the console, "Oh, look at that Ethan, Uncle Jim's landed safe and sound."

Despite the change in topic, I found myself pursuing the former, "If he doesn't tell him today, I think I will."

"Yeah?" Dick asked, his eyes intently staring at my Blackberry as he sent a message back to my brother.

"If he blows up about it, I'll tell him that… it was my idea, to wait until we had all of the facts."

"Going to lie to him, too? Ethan," he looked to the backseat, "Mommy is the bravest person in the whooooole world. Then again, it's not like he could possibly be any angrier than he was about the pill thing."

I smirked briefly before responding, "Like you said, what is he going to do to me? Yell at me?"

"And maybe cut you out of the will."

I glared at him before taking the first left to wait in line at the arrival bay. Thinking on how our mentor had barely cheated death earlier that year, I spoke softly, "Now, that… that is too soon to joke about."

^V^

I had told Barbara the truth.

For the better part of fifteen minutes prior to her call, I had been trying to wake Bruce up, something that was always a challenge on Sunday mornings. It was only made even more trying combining long hours in the city preparing for week long philanthropic activities with his daily one-hundred eighty milligrams of Phenobarbital.

Granted he had not had any seizures in the last few weeks, but it was nearly as bad seeing him as tired as he had been after the coma. Five nights out of the preceding week, he had gone to bed shortly after forcing himself to sit through dinner. Mattie had been worried, but I had been able to quell it by saying that at least he was taking in the initiative to rest.

Saturday night, he had arrived at the Manor a little after seven, seeming a bit livelier than he had all week. Having been coerced that morning before heading out, he had returned with pizza from the trattoria in Bristol. It was seemingly the only place Mattie and Nathan both agreed upon. Alfred had offered to retrieve the meal himself, but I had insisted he simply focus on getting ready for his night off with Leslie. Even my daughter had lending a hand, "Dad promised he would."

Thankfully, Bruce had remembered and then some. In addition to the customary pancetta and roasted pepper pizza, he had brought back samplings of fresh bruschetta, house salads and my personal favorite, the di mare platter full of tasty marinated seafood morsels and vegetables. He had even gone the extra mile with individual servings of gelato and sorbetto for everyone, including Alfred and Leslie, and was genuinely upset when he had found that they had already departed for the evening.

Even stranger still, Bruce had been more than willing to agree to Nathan's idea of having a picnic in the den instead of eating in the dining room. While the kids had sat on the floor, using the coffee table to eat off of whilst fighting over what to watch, Bruce and I had sat together on the couch. My suspicions grew when he had playfully stolen the remnants of my pizza crust, smirking while I had glared at him.

Obviously someone had brainwashed my husband.

I had waited until after dessert, where my willpower was tested even further after Bruce offered to help wash dishes with me. With the kids well out of earshot in the den, I hadn't so much as turned the tap water on to warm before snapping, "Did you skip your meds?"

"Absolutely not," he had replied, setting the plates on the counter beside the sink.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I had then glared up at him, "Did you overdose?"

He had stepped forward, showing no hesitation in wrapping his arms around me, "Nope."

"Nanobots?"

Leaning down, he had kissed my cheek before speaking into my ear, "No."

"Is it because Terry is going to Arizona for the school break?

A smirk had flashed over his lips before he had admitted, "Maybe a little bit…"

"Then what? What is going on?" I had demanded, still not yielding to his embrace.

"You're making a big deal out of noth-," he had started to say.

I stomped on the top of his sock clad foot before growling, "Bruce."

Releasing me, he had taken a step back towards safety, "I slept all afternoon in my office. Happy?"

"I thought you had meetings until five?"

He had sighed, leaning against the counter, "I did. Thankfully Lucius covered for me, said I had a family emergency. Not that an excuse like that is any better for the real reason… During meetings, everyone is empathetic but once the doors open, the rumor mills start spinning…"

It was then that I had approached him, slipping my arms around his waist, "Let them spin." I had paused before testing his playful mood, "Right round…"

"Stop it," he had uttered in a low growl.

"Right round, like a record, baby, right-."

He had cut me off with a kiss, one that was not cut short because of our mutually garlic tinged palates but by the sound of Mattie sighing at the doorway. When we broke apart, I had turned just in time to see her rolling her eyes. Knowing what she wanted already, I had still taken the time to ask, "What's up?"

"Can I go downstairs, Tim said he was going to be here at eight."

I had glanced at the wall clock to see it was ten of. "All right, not too late, we have to get up in the morning." Turning back to Bruce once she had left, I had stopped him from commenting, "Now, let's try and do the dishes in a civilized manner…"

After leaving the kitchen in its usual pristine condition, we had navigated back to the den to spend the remainder of the evening with Nathan. Even after a long day of playing outside at a friend's house and a massive dinner, he had been wide awake. I found myself yawning when he had asked if we could play Uno, forcing me to get coffee first. Bruce, having already put in a solid nap, was more than willing to play a few hands, even without the caffeine.

By nine, Alfred and Leslie had returned and I had used the opportunity to corral Nathan upstairs for a bath, leaving Bruce to check in with his ever watchful guardians. While my son staged epic aquatic toy battles, I had laid out his pajamas on the bed in addition to an outfit for the morning. Ace, who was far from a fan of baths, opted to lay at my feet instead of waiting on the tiled floor for his master.

He and Bruce were going to get haircuts in the morning while Mattie and I went to the salon. Although the children weren't going to be with us on Thanksgiving, they were still going to attend a number of charity events over the course of the week, ranging from book readings, coat and winter wear drives and a baking party at the women and children's shelter in Chelsea.

"Where's Mattie?"

I had called out to Nathan from his closet, "In her room, I think."

"Oh."

"You almost done?"

"Yeah... I guess," he had responded softly.

It wasn't long after that he had dried, dressed, brushed his teeth and was trying to do somersaults off of his bed and onto his exercise trampoline. Keeping watch so he didn't crack his head open, I had sat on the edge of the bed, also making sure to give him ample warning when his father approached. After fifteen minutes of waiting, I had risen to my feet, "All right, wild child, let's get started…"

"Where's Dad?"

"Downstairs talking to Leslie and Alfred."

"About what?" Nathan had asked, climbing onto his bed once more.

"Not sure, kiddo… probably just making a plan for this week."

He had patiently sat beside me for the better part of forty minutes, helping me read through the pages of The BFG. It had actually been the tattered paperback copy that Bruce had read during his recovery from amnesia fourteen years earlier, a book he and Mattie had read countless times each since. No matter how many time my eyes had graced the worn pages, it had still brought a smile to my lips. Where Mattie had grown to take an interest in other books, Nathan had seemed to stick with Roald Dahl classics, including Matilda, The Witches and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I was thankful for that as I had no intention of sitting through all of the Harry Potter books again…

With Nathan finally starting to drift, I took over reading: " 'Do you like vegetables?' Sophie asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards a slightly less dangerous kind of food.

" 'You is trying to change the subject,' the Giant said sternly. 'We is having an interesting babblement about the taste of the human bean. The-'."

Bruce had finished softly from the door, " 'The human bean is not a vegetable.'."

Putting the bookmark in place, I had set it on the night stand before leaning over to kiss Nathan's brow, being sure this blankets were pulled up to his chin. He had been a trooper dealing with Strep throat, even happy that the illness had made his voice raspy like a growl. Bruce had stepped into the room briefly to kiss him goodnight as well, letting me lead the way into the hall after shutting off the lights.

Unlike his son, once Bruce had made it to the bedroom, fatigue had been quick to settle in. I had suggested a bath, but he had declined, opting instead for a change into cotton pajama pants, rubbing liniment on his leg and popping back his night meds with a glass of water. Reclining beside him in the dark, I had asked what had taken him so long to come upstairs but he hadn't responded. I had to remind myself that he had taken his hearing aides out.

As soft snores began to escape his lips, I had decided to leave it be until morning.

Of course when morning came, prince charming was still out like a light…

After waking him during my chat with Barbara, I blatantly leaned over him to put my phone on his nightstand, pressing my hand down on his chest for balance. When I moved to lay beside him again, I had a smirk on my lips where his were wrapped in a grimace.

"What time is it?" he grumbled, his eyes deceptively alert despite the groggy look on his face.

"Eight," I answered him. Still under the covers, I snuggled in closer, resting my chin on his shoulder so I could speak directly into his ear, "Also known as time to get up."

"Don't have to be in the city until two," he sighed before clearing his throat.

I pushed myself to lay on my stomach, baring weight on my elbows in order to count off as I listed, "It will take you an hour to actually get up and moving. Breakfast for thirty minutes, you'll exercise for an hour and a half, another half of an hour to shower and get dressed, hair appointment is at noon and that will be half an hour at best, then an hour and half to get to Midtown…" I kissed his rough cheek before stating, "So, I woke you exactly on time."

He glared at me for a moment and then sighed, wrapping a bare arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer, "Start the clock. One more hour of sleep."

"Fifty-nine minutes, actually…" After ten minutes, I spoke into his ear, "What did Leslie say last night?"

"Shhh," he said without moving.

"Are you… shushing me?"

"No, dear," his eyes opened and he looked down at my face, "Please… let's talk for a long time."

"I'm serious."

He inhaled slowly before responding, "Nothing. A surprise. For you."

"You are in cahoots… with Leslie… about a surprise… for me?" rolling my eyes, I replied while trying to slip away from him, "You were better off shushing me."

Ensnaring me and pulling me tight to his chest, Bruce smirked, the gesture belying the look in his eyes. After a beat, he finally said, "In addition to sleeping all afternoon… I… had new radiographs done on my leg."

"Why, what's wrong?" I asked without hesitating. I hadn't noticed him favoring the limb but then again he and I spent so much time apart during the day and at night he had been going to bed early…

"-another surgery," was all I heard him say.

"Wait, what?"

Letting me go, he proceeded to explain that he had seen his orthopedic specialist for a check up, including routine radiographs to note the changes in bone formation and to make sure the plates and pins were in proper alignment. After an hour of lengthy debate, Bruce had agreed with the specialist to undergo a third surgery, one that would allow him to walk up steps in relative comfort. He had been walking down stairs for some time but ascension remained to be too troublesome for the effort involved.

"Think of it… as an early Christmas gift."

I remained speechless for a minute, trying to come to terms with the fact that it was the reason he had been in such a good mood the night before. But where he had previously kept secrets from me for weeks and even months, he had barely held it to himself for a night. No, he had discussed it with Leslie and possibly even Alfred. If it had been a secret, he wouldn't have uttered a word to anyone and would have had all records of the plan encrypted and stowed away.

Without warning, I blatantly asked, "Why now? Why after being such a stubborn fool for so long…"

Bruce didn't hesitate in replying, "It's personal."

"Which means it's for a sentimental reason…" I found myself leaning in closer, hovering my lips above his, "And I think I know what it is."

"Oh?"

I kissed him softly, "You want to walk up and down the stairs."

"Well, ideally, even after the surgery I shouldn't walk three flights-."

I shook my head, "Not those stairs, my love." When he didn't reply, I inquired, "Am I right?"

Something sad happened to his eyes, the firm veil he held against the world had faltered. A blink later, the gaze was back to normal and he started to sit up, gently pushing me off of him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he roused the sleeping ball of fur at the end of the bed. When Kitten had leapt to the floor, Bruce cleared his throat, "Probably, should get a head start…"

As he stiffly rose from the bed, I called out, "Bruce, I didn't mean anything by it…"

He ignored me, promptly limping to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

"Smooth, Selina," I sighed to myself, "Real smooth."

^V^

There were three parts to the muscle up maneuver on the still rings.

Being one of the more difficult training exercises, I often put it late into a routine, limbering up my joints and getting my arms, torso and legs to work as one. As a child, I had trained on rings religiously, my father always standing by with a smile of pride on his face. I had even convinced him to make me a pair that I could hang from the roof of our mobile home so that I could practice on the road between shows.

The first step was the pull-up, moving from hanging vertically from the rings so that my head was between them, elbows bent and my body slightly leaning backwards. The transition was always the hardest, even before I had taken a .50 caliber bullet to the shoulder. Inhaling slowly, I forced air out my mouth as I proceeded to push myself up even further, locking my elbows once they were straight. It allowed me to maintain the position properly with my hips between the rings. I gave myself a moment to inhale once more before completing the drill with the dip, carefully bending my arms back in order to push my body forward and down until I was back to the starting position.

I was on the fifth one before I realized I had an audience.

"Hey, monkey," I said, briefly looking down at Mattie as she stood on the mats ten yards away.

"Who are you calling a monkey?"

I completed a sixth muscle up before allowing myself to drop to the ground, instinctively rotating my shoulders and loosening my arms with a few shakes. "Good point… did you… do something to your hair?"

She nodded and gently fluffed the straightened dark hair, of which was at least three inches shorter than when I had seen her last. Mattie then shrugged, "Trying something new. Mom said she once chopped all of her hair off."

"She most certainly did…" I snickered, "I like it, tres chic."

"Merci," she curtsied before asking, "Are you staying long?"

"Yeah, figured I can get more done here than at the Clocktower. That and I haven't beat up Tim in a while."

"You've never beat me up," she pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Was that an invitation?" When her smile grew, I nodded, "Go change. And bring grip gloves."

"Not boxing gloves?"

"I would hate to have to hit my little sister," I set a hand on her shoulder, leaving behind grip chalk on her dark blouse, "So I'll have to find another way to beat you up."

While she headed back up to the costume vault to change, I followed her to get a water bottle from the mini-fridge. Taking a seat in the chair before the computer display, I called out, "Is your Dad upstairs?"

"No," she paused before adding, "He and Mom left already for the city."

"Know when they'll be back?"

She answered, "Mom said they would be back by six, I think."

"Damn," I muttered to myself, thinking I was due back at the Clocktower by five so Babs could go grocery shopping. She wanted to have a feast of both Jim Senior and Junior's favorites throughout the week and needed to prepare accordingly. Leaning as far back as the chair would go, I said, "That's a bummer. Seems like I keep missing him, lately."

"Yeah, he's been pretty busy," I barely heard her say.

"Well, it's only going to get worse…" a voice said from behind. I spun the chair around while sitting upright to see Tim approaching, "I just got the itinerary for the Sun Rises in the East End thing. I doubt any of us will see him until New Year's."

"I get dibs on his stocking at Christmas," I smirked while getting to my feet, noting he had dressed just as Mattie for the day. Thankfully, he substituted the junior miss midnight blue blouse for a black cotton Henley. Intentionally, I roughly patted the sutures concealed by his right sleeve, enjoying his grimace a little too much.

On my first official night back in the black and blue, he had incidentally been subject to a gunshot wound while we intercepted members of the Blu Flu gang. When we had made it back to the Cave, Alfred had agreed to stitch him up, but the fee had been a stern lecture for both of us. Namely along the lines on how he was too old to be up all hours of the night and that we were both too old to be playing decoy for one another. We had both sheepishly apologized, belying our ages with the voices of ten-year-old boys.

Tim had given himself one day off from work and one night off to recuperate. Will had only asked if our co-worker was all right once and after being assured that it was only a flesh wound, he had asked if we could watch Monty Python in the conference room. Before heading out for my second night, I had made the trek to Bristol to not only steal the Batmobile, but to also check up on and to pick on Tim. In lieu of a get well card, I had raided the local pharmacy for the most random items, including a hemorrhoid pillow, a Hanson CD and a few bags of clearance Halloween candy.

At least Cass had been grateful for the candy.

Tim stepped towards the chair, taking a seat while asking, "How's Jim?"

"Good," I answered, opting to lean against the work station counter top, "Babs is helping him make Christmas cards with pictures of Sarah… Ridiculously cute in this little silver dress and angel wings… I said we should do one as well, but put Ethan in like… red spandex with a tail and horns…"

I watched as Tim fought a smirk before replying, "Nothing says Tis the Season like Baby Devil."

"Toddler Devil. Baby Devils just lay there. Toddlers know how to open your dresser drawers and pull all of the clothes out so that Frank can sleep on them…"

He smiled at that but didn't say anything.

Before I could ask him if he had made up his mind about Thanksgiving, I spotted Mattie approaching. Her new do was pulled back tightly in a bun, a few chaotic strands fighting to break free. She had traded the blouse and fitted jeans for black leggings that cut off at her calves and a purple three quarter sleeve cotton shirt.

After she paused beside Tim, Mattie sighed, "Good, I thought Dick was talking to himself."

"Where did you learn such wiseassery?" I asked.

"From the best," she beamed up at me.

"Now you're just sucking up…"

Mattie stuck her tongue out at me for a fraction of a second before looking to Tim, "Was Cass coming, too?"

He nodded as he began tapping at the keyboard, "She lost the coin toss this morning… when she's done with laundry she'll be over. And she's going to stay with you and Nathan later so Alfred and Leslie can go into the city."

"I wish I could go," she sighed.

Tim looked away from the screen for a moment, "You're going down Wednesday, right?" When she confirmed it, he continued, "Well, Cass and I are going to be helping with the winter clothes drive, we're going to be going around in a van and collecting from random places… Maybe you can go with us… Just clear it with the big guy."

"Can you put in a good word for me?" Mattie started blinking dramatically.

Tim smirked and went back to working on the computer, "I'll try."

I cleared my throat before saying, "All right, why don't you go warm up… stretches, toe hops, handstand pop-ups, lunges-."

She rolled her eyes at me, "I think I know how to warm-up."

As she walked down to the training bay, I sighed as I looked up to the monitor. He was just bringing up scuttle files for the most part, namely weather forecasts, traffic cameras and police activity logs. Nothing of major importance.

Nothing of major eco-terrorizing global dictatorship importance…

"Again with the wiseassery," I said softly.

Tim shook his head without looking away from the monitor, "She learned it from the best."

"Speaking of the best… What did Bruce ever say about Talia's letter?"

That drew his eyes towards me, albeit in a glare, "Subtle, Dick. Did Barbara tell you?"

"Tell me what, bro?"

Tim promptly rose from the chair and walked towards the vault, forcing me to follow him for my answer. I paused beside the rack of grapple guns and rappelling equipment as he forcibly pulled his shirt off, letting it fall to the grated flooring. I was about to apologize but he growled softly, "You know… it's bad enough as it is… hating myself… I don't need your help."

"Hating yourself? Over a stupid letter?"

He spun to face me, "No… not over… not over that." Without clarifying, he proceeded to remove his jeans in order to don his own pair of leggings. Instead of putting on a tunic to cover the gunshot wound on his right bicep, he opted for a sleeveless shirt. His own red badge of courage… or perhaps of something else.

Finally facing me again, he said, "I haven't told him because… every single time I've involved him since he stepped down has completely backfired. He's knocked on death's door more times in the seven years after he's retired than the seven that preceded it. If there is anyone out there that is a bigger threat than the Joker was… it's Ra's. And if Bane is involved-."

I stepped forward, "We don't know that."

There was a look of defeat in his eyes, one similar to when we had gone up to the Watchtower to secure the Family. A look that had no place on my friend's face, especially as he admitted, "Exactly, we don't know… we don't know anything."

I let my thoughts pass through my lips, "He's been off the grid for almost two decades. If the Secret Six finally had enough of him, then good riddance. He waited his whole life to get to Bruce the first time, there's no way he would wait that long again."

I heard Mattie call out something from the training bay, followed by loud chimpanzee noises.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

He nodded, not making a verbal commitment making it an easier agreement to break.

Although Mattie and I worked on the gymnastic equipment, focusing intently on the parallel bars and the balance beam, Tim had opted to unleash his frustration in the weight area and on the sandbags. I kept an eye on him as I coached Mattie through both new routines and helped her tune up those already in her repertoire. She was still active on the gymnastic team at school, but her sub-par instructor had nothing on me.

Eventually, Cass arrived and was quick to limber up with floor exercises before taking my young sister along for some katas and shadow boxing. Mattie had thanked me for my time but said that she was far from beaten. After I gave her a Wet Willie and tripped her to the matted floor, pinning her down to zubert her neck and cheeks, she had said otherwise.

It was approaching four by the time I showered and changed back into my jeans, gray hooded sweatshirt and blue down vest. Knowing the commute back would be much longer than the one out, I bid my adieu to Cass and Mattie and then sought Tim out. I found him at the computer again, diligently screening through missing person, BOLO and APB reports that had been filed in the last twenty-four hours. Instead of starting things up again, I stole a Snickers bar out of the refrigerator under the workstation, and offered, "Halfsies?"

He stared at the screen for a moment longer before nodding, "Well, I'm not going anywhere for a while."

"That's the spirit."

The trek upstairs regrettably did not lead to crossing paths with Alfred. Uninhibited, I proceeded to the service entrance and out to the parking area behind the garage. As expected, the drive back was aggravating at the very least. I called ahead to let Babs know I was going to be a little late and she responded with, "Time management, Grayson, it's an important life skill."

"So is tickling my little sister."

She snickered into the phone before admitting, "All right, tardiness accepted."

Stepping through the door at a little passed five, I was greeted with soft voices and mouthwatering aromas. Following them both to the kitchen, I spotted Jim at the small kitchen table and Ethan nearby in his high chair. Both were acting as taste testers while Babs diligently worked at the counter on the other side of the room. Ethan was the first to spot me, announcing my arrival with a squeal, "Dahie!"

Jim then looked as well, "Hope you're hungry."

"Hi," I offered my hand to him, "My name is Dick, I don't think we've met before…"

Jim chuckled at that as I took a seat opposite of him, observing the small plate of goodies on the table between us. Little pastry cups were filled with a variety of cheeses, chopped vegetables and one even appeared to have hot sauce, bits of chicken and blue cheese.

Sampling a cheddar and broccoli one, I looked to Babs, "Oh man… I would have driven faster if I knew these were waiting…"

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, "Well, they haven't been waiting too long for you… Ethan decided he was going to nap two hours too early, so he and Jim ended up going with me to the grocery store."

"That's my boy," I smiled before popping a chicken wing filled one into my mouth. I offered Ethan a sip of his juice box and he made the sign language for "more" by joining his fingers to points on both hands and tapping the ends together. "Good job, pal. More." After another sip of juice, I broke up a cooler treat filled with quiche and put the pieces on the tray before my son.

Jim noted, "You like the appetizers, wait until dessert."

"Oh?" I inquired, arching both eyebrows as high as they would go, "Do tell, Chef Barbara Louise, what is on the menu for this evening?"

Jim laughed quietly at that but Babs chose to glare at me, "Nothing for you if you say my middle name again."

When I blew her a kiss, Jim chuckled a bit louder, "Did you aim it her ass?"

"Jim!" she exclaimed, pointing at Ethan as I laughed right along with my brother-in-law.

Even though we caused a ruckus, Barbara still treated us to the first of many fine meals for the week. A favorite of their late father's, we dined on fried fish and smashed chips, rough cut cole slaw and the remaining bite sized pastry cups. To top it off, Barbara had created homemade Guinness and caramel ice cream, dressed with crumbled shortbread cookies.

I had joked while clearing the table that come Thanksgiving dinner, Jim and I would be trained to well enough to take the meal head on.

Ethan had incidentally repeated the last part, although in his garbled toddlerese, it had sounded like hard on. To which Jim quickly offered that at least he didn't say ass.

After which Ethan had proudly repeated ass.

Before Barbara could say a word, I said, "Guess it's time spell words backwards."

Still glaring at me, she asked, "You think, s-s-a-b-m-u-d?

^V^

As Thursday morning arrived, Master Bruce was miraculously still capable of smiling.

Sunday afternoon had been delegated to an informal luncheon held at one of the newly renovated recreation centers where all of the volunteers and workers that had helped over the last month were rewarded for their community spirit. Aside from an endless collection of hot and cold sandwiches and beverages, soups, salad and baked goods, there had been a number of activities scheduled. Free long-sleeved and polo shirts showcasing the logo of the program were distributed, countless youth and teen activities were available and there were a wide spectrum of door prizes.

Ms. Selina had reported that Master Bruce had shaken hands and spoken with easily over two hundred people, most of which had taken their picture with him on their cellular phones.

The following day had been dedicated to blood drives at all public high schools in the city. Schools in the east end had also offered free health physicals and flu shots to students and their immediate families. With Miss Mattie and Master Nathan in Bristol for school and extracurricular activities, I was able to spend the entire day volunteering at PS 141, aiding in both the blood draw efforts and health check-ups. Master Bruce and Ms. Selina were randomly visiting as many schools as they could during the course of the day, finally making it to our location at four in the afternoon. Although he was exhausted, he had remained until well passed six, speaking with students about applying for internships, scholarships and work study programs following graduation.

Tuesday had focused on painting interiors and working on the remodeling efforts of a sub-par Boys and Girls club. I had bowed out gracefully in order to recuperate from Monday's activities, graciously taking my leave in order to tend to the Manor and take care of the children. Master Bruce and Ms. Selina had also been joined by Master Dick and Tim as well as Mr. Cutting and Gordon, gladly donating their day for the good of the project.

Since their parents had remained in the city to have dinner with the volunteers that night, I had spent time with Miss Mattie and Master Nathan whilst waiting for their return. We had watched the evening news together, catching a five minute segment covering the project's progress. There had even been a brief interview with Master Bruce, who had a smudge of white paint on his cheek and a broad smile on his face. He had made it a point to thank everyone who had contributed, no matter how great or small, and urged for others to join. "You know, we have the website up and running, … you can look up our schedule and locations of volunteer efforts and also there are still a few employment opportunities open, anything from public relations, couriers, grant writers right down to electricians, contractors, plumbers, CDL drivers… "

The off screen reporter had asked, "And what do you have in store tomorrow?"

Master Bruce had nodded curtly before answering, "Tomorrow is our winter clothes drive. New or used coats, hats, boots, mittens, sweaters, scarves, you name it. Anything from little toddler snowsuits up to adult wear. Our goal is to have not a single person east of the river having to stand out in the cold this winter without proper attire."

"A noble goal, Mr. Wayne, one we at NBC5 sincerely hope you meet."

"Certainly appreciate it… but for now… I have some more painting to do."

The camera had then cut to Master Bruce and Ms. Selina helping color bands of various hues of white and blue, pulling back to show more than a dozen others working on a side of the newly floored gymnasium. The look on Miss Mattie's face said she couldn't have been prouder, but Master Nathan had only managed to say, "I want to paint."

With the children off of school for the remainder of the week, Master Bruce had agreed that they would volunteer on Wednesday and Friday, leaving them to celebrate Thanksgiving with Master Dick, Ms. Barbara and Mr. Gordon. Master Nathan had only balked at the schedule briefly where Miss Mattie continuously tried to convince her father otherwise. To keep from badgering Master Bruce, she had been directed to spend the day with her mentors, driving around collecting clothes from drop boxes and local businesses. Master Nathan had likewise spent the day with Master Dick, acting as a ruler to determine clothes and items meant for the above and under six year old group.

While they had worked diligently in the city, I had remained home a second time in order to prepare a substitute Thanksgiving dinner. As with the year that Commissioner Gordon had succumbed to cancer, the Family was segregated for the holiday. And very much like two years earlier, I wasn't about to let it stop them from coming together. The charitable efforts over the course of the week had certainly sealed in a wonderful spirit in both young and old, one I wasn't about to let pass unnoticed.

Knowing Ms. Barbara intended to prepare turkey the following day, I had opted for a honey glazed ham, trimmed with stuffing, cranberry orange salsa, roasted potatoes, Parmigianino baked parsnips and buttery croissants. Miss Mattie had desired to return home early enough to help, but I had assured her that Leslie would aide in the preparations. However, she had forced me to agree that, at the very least, she would prepare dessert.

Alone in the Manor, Leslie and I had taken the opportunity to discuss Master Bruce's revelation that he had divulged Saturday evening. The orthopedic appointment had disclosed a number of small bone spurs that would only impede what remained in his recovery. It hadn't been entirely unexpected given the severe nature of the injury, but what had been surprising was that he had opted not to have the spurs simply removed. Instead, Master Bruce had intended to have further work done on the joint itself in order to restore a fraction more of mobility.

He had also asked that we not tell anyone, wanting to do so at his own pace.

Leslie and I had discussed the matter a number of times over the course of the week, mostly theorizing on why he had changed his stance on the subject. Since May, he had refused to even consider further surgical intervention, having come to terms with the fact that nothing would ever bring back the full use of his leg. Despite our efforts to persuade him otherwise and his wife's persistent threats, he hadn't so much as given it a second thought.

It had been as Leslie sliced potatoes that she suggested, "I would bet anything that it has to do with Mattie. Her… training."

Leslie had no qualms about voicing her thoughts on another young member of the Family joining the ranks of vigilantism. Granted, Miss Mattie's tutelage had developed into an extremely lengthy and thorough process, it had only been fueling a fire the young girl had started on her own. Not only had she literally created her own guise whilst the Joker ran the streets, she had run away to the city to fight crime on her own and had even escaped the Watchtower in order to help fight alongside Miss Cassandra and Master Bruce. Her skills were improving exponentially, as was the young girl's drive to once more race through the night, shedding her chance at a normal life for the one she was born into.

"Master Bruce has diligently offered his insight into her education, albeit not of late."

"He wants to be more active in her training… I would prefer he did this for his own desire to better himself."

I had been checking the parsnips as they sizzled on the tray above the ham. After closing the door, I had turned to face her, "Master Bruce has never done anything that benefited himself, he has also acted on the behalf of others."

Setting the knife down, she had looked up at me, "Well, he needs to start thinking about himself. He thinks he can ignore what's happened, that he can will it to go away… He can't push himself like that anymore… and yet he does."

After approaching her, I had gently set my hands on her thin shoulders, "Perhaps this surgery will offer a time to rest, a time to reflect. Just as it did earlier this year."

Leslie had smirked sadly as she looked up at me, "Hopefully."

Not an hour later, three cars had ascended the drive, followed promptly be a whirl of activity in the service atrium. Master Nathan had been the first to emerge, running by the kitchen archway and disappearing into the corridor in search of his dog. Miss Mattie and Cassandra had appeared next, carrying in a paper bag that they had promptly written in marker Do not open before storing it in the refrigerator. After declining their offers to assist, they had also proceeded to the hallway.

The next individuals to appear had been Master Dick, his young child seated upon his shoulders. After him had been Mr. Gordon who had been carrying a vibrant bouquet of autumn hued lilies, roses, daisies, hypericum berries and cattails. Leslie had graciously accepted them, standing up to kiss his clean shaven cheek before going about putting them in a vase. He had a considerable amount of resemblance to his late father and if had chosen to grow a mustache, it would have been near perfect resemblance. I often mused that it had been a shame that his mother had absconded with him at such a young age and that it had taken so long for father and son to reunite.

At least he had taken the opportunity to do so, however brief,

Ms. Barbara had also appeared, followed by Master Tim carrying stacked trays of various hors d'ouerves. Upon appraising them, I had been please to see sausage and potato puffs, bagel chips with cheese and prosciutto, hazelnut profiteroles and slivers of walnut biscotti. As a means of luring the others out of the kitchen, I had quickly arranged the morsels on platters, assigning each young man with one to carry to the den where plates, napkins and hot and cold cider waited.

When silence had finally found the room, Master Bruce and Ms. Selina appeared. I had a glass of water on the ready in addition to his early evening medications. Although he had thanked me, it had taken a considerable amount of effort given his exhausted state. After watching him down the pills, I had suggested he rest as dinner had still been an hour away. He had nodded as his wife had rubbed his back, "We'll go upstairs for a while… come back down later."

We had postponed serving dinner as late as possible to give Master Bruce ample time to recover but with hungry mouths outnumbering exhausted ones, I had made the executive decision to go ahead without him. After I had started things in motion, I had left Leslie to oversee the dinner, making sure nary a plate remained empty for long. Taking the elevator, I had headed directly to the third floor, briskly walking to the master bedroom's double doors. Opening them, I had expected to find Master Bruce and Ms. Selina on the bed, resting after a long day.

What I had found instead was my eldest charge on the floor, his head resting in his wife's lap as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, talking to him softly. With him facing her abdomen, I had only been granted observation of his backside as it rose and fell with heavy breaths, his limbs laying still and painfully unnatural.

A result of ignoring his limits prior to his fall in April had been a foul mood, a short temper and actions he would regret in secret.

Following the cranial fracture he had endured and the three surgeries required to attend to the damage, ignoring his limits resulted in tonic-clonic seizures.

Without looking up at me, Ms. Selina had sighed, "Almost made it to the bed."

"How long has it been?" I had inquired softly, suddenly becoming aware of the lines of mascara that had mixed with her tears.

"Fifteen minutes… It wasn't that bad of an episode… He's just so tired…" she had leaned over and kissed his temple before sitting upright again, "I told him we should have gone home early… He just wouldn't listen."

After approaching, I had taken a seat on the edge of the bed to her right, "Pardon for being so bold, madam, but when has he ever listened to what is best for him?"

She had laughed sadly at the remark, "That's true."

He had regained consciousness ten minutes later, although he was unable to communicate properly for another eight. After helping him change and settle into bed, I had been able to convince Ms. Selina to join the others. She had taken a moment to wash up and reapply her makeup before pausing at the bed to kiss Bruce's still face, "I'll be back."

"Go," he had whispered, "Eat."

Another kiss to his brow and she had felt certain enough to leave him in my care.

An hour had passed before he had said a word to me, "Is it worth it?" When I hadn't replied immediately he posed his question again.

"My apologies, sir. I did hear your initial inquiry… Although, admittedly, I was in shock over your sudden interest into my personal thoughts on the matter."

Still groggy from postictal sleep, he had found the willpower to glare at me.

"I must pose my own question first, sir. Does it refer to pushing yourself to the brink or does it refer to engaging in a third surgery on your leg?"

There had been a long pause before he had admitted, "Both."

I had in turn offered the same pause before responding, "As for the latter, I feel it is undoubtedly the right path. There is no need for you give up on something so trivial given all of the decades you have spent fighting. As for the former… Leslie believes you are ignoring the changes in your life, but I see it in another light, Master Bruce."

He had blinked at me slowly, urging me to continue.

After resting my hand on his, I had proceeded, "I believe you have accepted them, you have learned to work around them. And when you feel it is necessary, you use them to punish yourself. For two decades, you helped this city in a way that no other could have imagined… and now, you must help in a different way, one which has no hope of sating your desire, your need to fight."

When he remained silent, I had added, "It is my wish, sir, that after all you have endured, that you are still capable of finding the balance of when to fight… and when to accept."

Master Bruce had not attended dinner, prompting Miss Mattie to bring him small portions of the meal. Her brother had arrived with a dessert plate of the white chocolate and sweet potato cake, the one his sister and Ms. Cassandra had hidden. He had thanked them, assuring each he would eat later after he had rested. Upon Ms. Selina's arrival, I had left him in his family's care, returning to the ground floor to make an attempt at spreading holiday cheer.

Thursday morning, I was diligently preparing a breakfast of ham and vegetable omelets, doing what I could to make use of the leftovers from the night before. Children's laughter sounded down the corridor and I prepared to greet my young charges with a warm welcome. They each wished me a Happy Thanksgiving before offering to help make the remnants of breakfast. As I assigned them to warm the leftover croissants in the oven and to work together making fresh juice, I was surprised to see another figure passing through the archway.

"Good morning, Master Bruce."

After offering me a smile, he replied, "It certainly is, Alfred."

^V^

Having been invited to dine with the Gordon and Grayson clan and to volunteer to serve meals all afternoon in the East End, Cass and I decided on both.

Although it had regrettably required an early start.

Cass graciously allowed me to sleep in until eight-thirty before enticing Robbie to jump on me. As he feverishly licked my face, I slowly came to, mumbling something about doggy dental care. When I didn't immediately rise, Cass promptly ripped the blankets off of my sleepy form, announcing that she needed to wash them. Robbie, giving up on washing my face, settled on the bed beside me, sniffing under the pillows.

"Trust me, pal, if there were treats under there, I would know."

Finally getting up, I shuffled across the room and languidly went about showering and shaving. We had returned from patrols a little after three, but I had ended up working in the Cave until nearly five. My intention had been to gauge Bruce's mood during dinner at the Manor in order to decided whether or not I should grow a pair and come clean. Seeing how he had headed straight up to bed upon returning from the city, I never had the chance to.

Obviously, it was not the night to confess my shortcomings as his predecessor…

Knowing we would be traversing from the middle upper class of Tri-corner to the lower class of the East End, I had opted for fairly casual attire. Scuffed leather shoes, dark blue jeans and a blue and white checked long sleeved shirt under a dark blue sweater. Pulling out the collar and the ends made me look like I was right back in college, frighteningly eight years ago…

Grabbing my wallet, watch and cell phone, I called Robbie off of the bed and raced him down the stairs, winning by a good margin given the dog's clumsiness. We found Cass in the kitchen, spooning dollops of peanut butter onto slices of bananas. She had also gone a casual route, wearing jeans, a white blouse and an unbuttoned charcoal cardigan. But where I had donned my shoes, she was still wearing fuzzy gray knit slippers.

"That looks good," I remarked while approaching her.

She ate one, raising her eyebrows for emphasis as she tried to talk through the peanut butter, "Id is gooh."

"What was that?" I smirked.

Swallowing, she repeated herself, "It is good." She retrieved one for herself and another for me, "Open wide." I ate it from her fingers, smiling once peanut butter was appropriately smashed over my incisors. Cass laughed and handed me her glass of milk, "Okay, now you ruined it."

"What, do I have something on my teeth?" I asked with as much deadpan as I could muster.

I finished the remaining slices, even giving one to Robbie after he quietly sat by, not even breathing as to focus purely on begging. There was no need to make anything else to eat since Cass and I were going to indulge in one of our joint guilty pleasures: deep fried French Toast sticks from the drive-thru. Most mornings, we rode the train into the city for work, making it impossible to detour for the disgustingly delicious treat.

While Cass sought out her shoes, I let Robbie out and packed up his crate, dog bed, toys, dinner and bowls. Everyone else in our family had children, but it was just as much of a chore taking care of a dog. He honestly had the same amount of toys as Ethan, mostly because every time either one of us bought his dog food, we found ourselves arriving at the cashier with an unnecessary armful of new toys. At least when you told Robbie to put his toys away, he willingly picked them up and dropped them off in his wicker basket in the den.

I'd like see a kid do that without complaining.

Our first stop was for gas and the second was for French Toast sticks and coffee. From there, I quickly navigated into the city, the holiday making for more traffic heading out as opposed to going in. Before volunteering the middle part of our day away, we headed to the Clocktower to hang out with Dick, Barbara and Jim and to get our fill of Ethan playtime.

What never ceased to amaze was that as big and goofy as Robbie was, he was an absolute doll with Ethan, letting the toddler practically torture him. Frank was thankful for the surrogate plaything and opted to sit safely in Barbara's lap. No doubt when Ethan went down for a nap, he and Robbie would resume their never ending feud, one that Dick had joked was the result of their arguing who had the flatter face.

With Barbara and Cass in the kitchen getting a head start on dinner, both refusing help from the lesser male species, I remained sequestered in the den, watching pre-game football reports. Growing up I had loved the sport but in the last decade, it had tragically fallen to the wayside, with my favorite players losing themselves to scandals or nonstop team swapping. All part of growing up too fast, I mused.

Shortly after ten-thirty, the doorbell rang and I lost paper-scissor-rock and had to get up to answer it. As expected, it was Bruce and Selina there to drop off the kids along with goodies Mattie had whipped up that morning seeing how Barbara had made the same effort the day before. As Mattie and Selina fled to the kitchen, Nathan and Bruce followed me to the den. It was only then that I realized Bruce had brought along his rarely used cane, something he only relied on in public. The Clocktower was anything but and I couldn't help but wonder if it was simply to get in the mood or if he actually needed it.

His absence at dinner hadn't been explained by either Selina or Alfred beyond the fact that he was tired…

Nathan quickly greeted Jim and pet Robbie's head before jumping on Dick's lap in an effort to beat up his much older sibling. Bruce opted to stand quietly next to the recliner I had been sitting in, watching his son carefully. I offered him to sit, but he shook his head, "We're not staying long… And Nate, that's enough."

"He can take it, Dad, he's all better," Nathan defended his actions while patting Dick's head.

"Yeah, Dad," Dick joined in, "I'm all better."

"That's enough," Bruce repeated himself, something we had never been given the liberty of while growing up.

Sighing, the boy slipped off of Dick's lap and settled in beside him on the couch. Not wanting to have Bruce as the only one standing, I remained on my feet, "I think Cass and I are working on Conklin Ave with Alfred and Leslie. You and Selina going there?"

He nodded, shifting his weight off of his left leg, "For a few hours, then we're going to Hudson Street. The mayor is supposed to make an appearance… they want a photograph of us slicing turkey or something ridiculous."

I smiled at that, knowing Bruce was working to actually help the community where the mayor only wanted points to help him get re-elected the following year.

Selina appeared shortly after, bidding farewell to Nathan and Ethan with kisses and smacks upside the head for Dick and myself. When she faced Jim, he warily said, "Not sure if I should duck or pucker up…"

She swatted him and opted to kiss Bruce before leading him away.

Cass and I stayed long enough to sample the goodies Mattie had brought and to make a timely exit after Ethan had a little toddler meltdown over not being allowed to hold his juice box. Before heading out, we set up Robbie's crate in the guest room and took him and Frank for a walk. Returning the two brachial cephalic dogs, we returned to the ground floor, battling traffic as we made our way to the East End.

Parking at the Free Clinic, we opted to walk the eight blocks to the Conklin Avenue Family Center. It housed over two-hundred fifty men, women and children, even more during inclement weather when other shelters closed their doors at capacity. With the funding Bruce had been striving for, two adjacent buildings had been purchased and were undergoing renovations to be brought up to code. Ideally, they would have six hundred more beds available by Christmas Eve, if not sooner.

I had told Bruce the day before when I had kidnapped Mattie that I was willing to take a break from the Firm during lulls in order to pitch in. Having renovated most of the townhouse he had given me on my own, I had learned a thing or two about efficient and effective home modifications. He had been quick to point out that there were no lulls since our banquet had nearly doubled out existing clientele.

By the end of the day, I had found a way to help. Before heading to the Manor for dinner Wednesday night, I had filled out a donation form at one of the collection sites. Out of my inheritance, I had donated a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, earmarking it for the Conklin Ave center.

I had to take a deep breath before filling out the comment line with In loving memory of Jack Drake and Dana Winters-Drake.

Arriving at the ground floor cafeteria, I was shocked at the sudden change in temperature, a result of the two-hundred individuals filling the cafeteria. As opposed to making guests stand in line, it had been arranged that each table be outfitted as if it were a normal family meal. Each fifteen person table was outfitted with a bowl of fresh salad, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey and a rainbow of vegetables. Volunteers circled to cafeteria, offering coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk and water.

It didn't take long before an older woman recognized the lost looks on our faces, approaching us with a warm smile that reminded me of Leslie, "Can I help you?"

"Uh, we're here to help out."

"That's wonderful," she pointed to the stainless steel double doors, "Head right through there, sign in with Betty, she's right at the table as you go in."

"Thanks," I nodded before guiding Cass with my hand on her lower back.

Betty, who dubbed us the cutest couple ever at first sight, gave us name tags and assigned us to kitchen duty with instructions to seek out Chef Alfred. I couldn't help but laugh to find the gentleman's gentleman had even taken to wearing a tall, white chef hat as a means of identifying himself amidst all of the workers. He showed us no favoritism, assigning us to peel and boil potatoes and to combine them with instant potato mix and milk in an industrial mixer named Bertha.

After twenty minutes, I deemed it to be the coolest machine I had ever laid eyes on.

To prevent burnout, the volunteers in the kitchen were rotated every sixty minutes or so and I had to bid farewell to Big Bertha in order to steam vegetables in large microwaves. An easier task and certainly less dangerous, but at least it had been closer to Selina as she heated up countless dinner rolls. As she counted them out by twenty before putting them in baskets, she informed us they been donated by bakeries from all over the city.

"Howe many in total?" I asked as I dumped green beans into a cardboard serving bowl.

"For all of the places we're hosting Thanksgiving, we had almost thirteen thousand rolls donated."

The sheer number of it was overwhelming, especially considering each and every one would go to someone in need.

After mastering the ropes as busboy and lettuce chopper, we were given a break shortly before two, during which we joined other volunteers at a table to also dine on Chef Alfred's biggest meal to date. I took the time to call Barbara to tell her to go ahead without us seeing how it seemed foolish to leave when there was so much work to be done. She said she understood and added that Will and Ronna had decided to join them so at least our absence saved her from a wine glass dilemma.

A quick plate of actually tasty food later, we were back at it.

I saw Bruce only once that afternoon. He had been seated with a table of three families who, I learned second hand, had lost their apartment to a fire the night before. There was no way of telling as much as they had smiles on their faces. I passed by briefly and patted Bruce's back before offering coffee from my carafe, overhearing him talk about how he had to break up a fight between his six-year-old and his thirty six-year-old sons. He offered me a curt nod and I smirked back.

Later on, I found out that he was personally putting the families up in a hotel and seeing to it that their insurance on the building was paid immediately. Or else.

No matter how many hours, days, months or years he had been doing it, Bruce would never tire of helping people.

We made it to the Clocktower in time for dessert, of which was the divine pumpkin crumble cheesecake that had been debuted earlier in the month and an instant classic. We rehashed the day at the family center, but there were really no words to describe it in its entirety. Before leaving, Barbara forced leftovers on us seeing how we hadn't made it to dinner. Needless to say, Robbie wasn't the only one on the verge of drooling on the ride home.

Helping ourselves to heated up turkey, sweet potatoes and bacon-cheddar stuffing, Cass and I took a brief nap on the couch. Although we should have worked out to some degree, the busy day had left us both spent. By the time my internal clock roused me, dusk was falling and Robbie was hungry. Cass fed and walked him quickly while I called Barbara for the second time that day.

She said that Dick was also just suiting up and that I shouldn't expect much out of him. When I inquired as to why, she explained, "He and Will had a turkey leg eating contest. Keep him moving and he should be fine."

"No stakeouts, got it."

The night was fairly uneventful and I hoped it was because of the holiday and the kindness that had been pouring into Gotham's most troubled borough. Working mostly by myself, I did happen upon a pair of tweens trying to sneak into the house that had burned down despite the cautionary tape. I allowed them to get two rooms deep as I made my way in, cornering them in the kitchen before growling, "And I though scum couldn't get any worse…"

Both men swore, one throwing his flashlight at me. I caught it without even trying, aiming the beam of light up at my jaw line. From the looks of terror on their faces, the highlighted cowl had been scary enough, but still I warned them, "If I find you, or anyone else near this house ever again… You'll be thankful for how many functional limbs you have left next Thanksgiving."

Kids pretending to be thugs.

It made me sick to my stomach.

Around midnight, the signal had gone off but without anything on the scanners or any news from the prison or asylum, I decided it was an invitation. Tim Bryce had used it as a means of communicating with me before I started making house calls. Something that was long overdue…

Since Batgirl had been nearby, she decided to join me as I navigated to GCPD headquarters. We found Kelsey standing on the rooftop, seeking warmth by pulling her trench coat tighter around her petite frame. Expect the unexpected.

"Good evening, commissioner."

She did her best to stifle her surprise, recovering quickly by saying, "Wasn't sure you'd come."

"Crime doesn't get a holiday."

Smirking, she looked directly at us, then down at the spent cigarette butts at her feet. When her gaze rose to my face, she said, "May be stupid, but I was thinking today… with all that Wayne is doing… and how everything seems to be quiet… I realized that in part, it's because of you. You saved this city… this year and the ones before… and every time I try to thank you, you decline."

I paused before growling, "I don't want to be thanked. I want this city to be safe."

"Well it is, at least tonight. And I'm going to thank you for it whether the hell you want it or not."

Gordon would have been proud that his predecessor had come so far.

When we finally made our way back to Bristol, Batgirl opted to ride with me in the Mobile. She pulled her cowl off, something that never happened outside of the costume vault.

"What's wrong?"

She waited until we were eight miles from the Cave before answering, "You ever feel like… she's still there, still watching from the shadows?"

There was no need to ask her to clarify as I felt the same presence every time I set foot in the city limits, mask or no mask. Dropping the gravel of my voice, I told her as much and added, "It's a good thing… I'm not sure I want to be out there if Helena isn't looming over me."

Cass brought her knees up to her chest, "Me either."

I hesitated and then pulled back my own cowl, thinking that it wasn't that Bruce would never tire of saving people.

Just as when he had been Batman, he was just trying to make up for those he hadn't been able to save, knowing no matter what, it would never end.

In loving memory…

^V^

I woke the Saturday after Thanksgiving at quarter of eleven in the morning with no memory of having gone to bed the night before and with a vicious headache.

Instead of Selina torturing me to rise for the day, Kitten had taken the initiative. As he sprawled under the covers, I felt his tail twitching on my bare side with just enough contact to be annoying. I subconsciously brushed my left hand at him and he had seen it as an reason to launch a full assault, locking his front claws around my hand and instantly digging at my palm with his hind feet.

"Ow," I growled, flicking him in the nose until he released me. He raced out from under the blankets and lapped the bed twice before taking off and out of the room. Sitting upright, I realized Selina was gone, leaving me completely alone in the room.

"Selina?" I called out, wanting her to retrieve gauze from the bathroom.

When there was no response, I grumbled quietly, rising from the bed as blood began to leak from my hand and land on the pristine white sheets. Instinctively, I pressed my fingers closed and pressed my wrist to my stomach, trying to staunch what I could. My body seemed stiffer than usual and I practically hobbled to the bathroom. Once inside, I hit the lights and headed to the sink, turning warm water on before putting my hand under the faucet. I surveyed the damage to be a series of scratches on my wrist and particularly deep gouge on the inside of my middle finger.

With my right hand, I searched the drawers of the bathroom counter until I found sterile gauze, tape and antiseptic. I doused the hand with betadine and scrubbed it gently, letting the resulting grimace take over my face. I would have preferred getting stabbed by a knife as opposed to getting scratched with bacteria riddled claws. The bleeding had yet to stop and I opted to wrap my hand in a towel and suffer the consequences. As I sat on the edge of the tub, I saw a shadow of movement but without my hearing aides, I was unable to tell who it belonged to.

"I'm in here," I called out.

Selina appeared in the doorway and I read her lips, "What happened?"

"Apparently Kitten thinks he is top cat," I answered while raising my injured hand.

"Poor baby…" she shook here head, "No wonder he's running all over the hallway."

She went silent as she helped dress the scratches with triple antibiotic ointment that I had not been able to find and then covered them with gauze and tape that I had. Leaving me in the bathroom, Selina left momentarily to retrieve my hearing aides. When I had the left one in, she started to speak, "I was just coming up to get you. Mattie wanted to know whether or not to make you breakfast, brunch or lunch."

"Lunch is fine," I replied after putting in the right one. Rising to my feet, I finally took the opportunity to stretch my back, popping each shoulder individually before rotating my neck.

Selina shook her head as she rinsed out the bloodied sink, "Snap, crackle, pop."

"That's me," I cleared my throat before approaching the clean one beside her. "Might go back to bed… feel awful."

"Well after last night…"

"After last night what?" I asked, barely able to place anything that had happened after the last day in the city. I distinctly remembered helping with the food drive and visiting the Child ID kit station the police had set up at the Free Clinic. Afterward, I remembered that Selina had driven me up to the cemetery so that I could visit Jim's grave. From there she had driven us home, we had made it just in time for dinner with the kids…

And that was it.

"What time did I go to bed?"

"Well, we got you up here around four this morning-."

"What?" I asked, my patience quickly giving way to irritation.

She finally turned to face me after shutting the water off, "You don't remember? Bruce… you had a seizure in the Cave, although God only knows why you went down there… Tim came home early to help move you back up here once Leslie okayed it."

I shook my head, "No, we had dinner…"

She cut me off, "And you said you were going to talk to Tim before he headed out but you just missed him. You're lucky Alfred went down to check… he found you at the bottom of the stairs…"

Sitting back down on the edge of the tub, I stared down at the tiled floor, trying to force myself to recall the previous night beyond dinner. I had endured weeks of nothing more than petit mal seizures that barely lasted fifteen seconds. In the last week, I had endured two grand mal episodes. No, in the span if three days...

I had to find the balance, Alfred had said.

As Selina sat beside me, she put a hand on my stiff left knee and waited for me to look up at her, "You can't do that to me again. I'm getting sick of sitting beside a gurney."

"I'm sorry… I… I don't know why I would have gone down the stairs in the first place."

"Seriously?" she raised her brow not in surprise but in accusation.

"Fine, I can hypothesize as to why I would have."

Over the course of the week, I had come to realize that I may have decided on the third orthopedic surgery with too much haste. While I spent the hours of the day overseeing activities and volunteering, I had let my mind drift in order to weigh the pro's and con's. No matter what, the bone spurs needed to be removed as they would only worsen with age. Given the fact that I certainly wasn't getting any younger, if at some point I had decided on additional surgery, it only made sense to kill two problems with one knife.

My optimism had run out by Tuesday.

The other line of thought that refused to subside was that I needed to determine my actual physical limitations. It would enable me to deduce the value of undergoing surgery that had no total guarantee of working. I had the ability to walk up and down a small set of stairs at a time with mild discomfort, but if I absolutely needed to tackle more, I should have been able to deal with it. I had lifted cars, been crushed by steel beams and survived explosions. Limp and brain damaged be damned, I was still essentially the same man as I had been at the beginning of the year.

Granted, testing my theory after pushing myself for an entire week had not been ideal but it had added the realistic element of exhaustion to the equation.

An test that I had obviously failed.

She rose to her feet in order to stare down at me, "And if you think I'm upset, Leslie is furious. She's campaigning to lock you in your room for the immediate future."

"She's overreacting," I muttered.

"No," Selina snapped, "You're under-reacting! Damnit, Bruce… For once, can't you see this through our eyes? Can't you see what it's like for us to find you like that? What it's like for me?"

Although I felt the need to raise my voice louder than hers, I knew deep down that it was futile. And that she was right. Instead, I made it to my feet, maintaining silence. Save for the verbal brawl over Mattie's contraceptive prescription two weeks earlier, things had been going smoothly between us. Even considering all Selina had to endure with my ailments, she had done so with a brilliance that only she was capable of.

I had to find the balance between fighting and accepting.

Jim Gordon had told me once that I should have known better than to waste time being angry at the ones I loved.

At the ones who loved me.

Jim…

"Call me a jackass."

"What?" she growled, her eyes still alive with anger.

"Call me a jackass. A pin-headed ape. A liar. Hit me. Scratch me. Do whatever you want. I deserve it."

After a moment, she stepped back, "You hit your head last night. I'll blame… whatever this is… on you hitting your head."

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have tried walking down those steps at all, let alone by myself."

There was another pause before she spoke softly, "I'm getting Alfred."

When she turned to leave, I reached out and grabbed her with my left arm, "I'm trying to apologize."

"And it's freaking me out," Selina replied, although she made no attempt to free herself.

"I'm sorry."

She stared up at me for a solid minute before saying, "Pupils are equal in size… no bleeding from your ears…" Selina paused to put her hand over my heart, "Heartbeat is normal… You want to apologize?"

"More than anything," I said solemnly.

"Don't. Instead, just… promise to stop making me cry."

I kissed her cheek before agreeing, "I promise."

As I took her into an embrace, Selina proceeded, "I don't know… you haven't been too good in the promise keeping department lately."

I spoke into her ear, "I've tried, at least."

"Liar," she said into my chest.

I kissed her by the ear before responding, "Thief."

Keeping my hold on her, I reveled in the feeling of her laughing in my arms. Before I could say anything else, I heard Nathan at the doorway, "What are you doing?"

Stepping away from me, Selina turned to face him, "Dad is giving out some pretty good hugs to day."

"I want one," Nathan grinned before running over to me. Despite how much it hurt, I lifted him in my arms, squeezing him tightly until he began to fidget. When I put him back on the floor, he commented, "That's too much hug… Mattie said she wanted to know when you were coming downstairs."

"In a little while, I need to get dressed first then I'll be down."

"Okay… don't make me come up here again," he shook his head as he stomped out of the room.

Selina left me to wash up but instead of leaving me altogether, she had been in the closet finding me an outfit to wear. While I pulled on the blue jeans, gingerly securing them and a belt with my injured hand, Selina had removed the bloodied bedding. After she put them in the hamper in the bathroom, she returned to see me fighting an uphill battle in donning a shirt.

"Just… stop." I sat stoically as she finished pulling the white cotton tee onto my stiff torso before helping me don the charcoal gray sweater. Popping my head through, she announced, "I'll get your meds."

"I can get them," I offered.

"No. I am removing the anti-inflammatory. I want you to be sore all day."

When she was out of earshot, I said, "Yes, dear."

Before she returned, the bedside phone rang and glancing at the Caller ID, I smirked to see it was the cell number of Lucius. I barely made it to the phone before the third ring sounded, answering softly, "Hello?"

"Bruce Wayne… you are a pain in my ass."

"And you're just realizing this?" I smirked.

"Our entire PR department has been working around the clock trying to field all of the interviews that have come in over the last week, not to mention trying to pick which ones they can bump up the to executives… including you. I have half of a mind to tell them to line all of the reporters up and feed you to them."

"How many people did we feed Thursday?"

He chuckled, "We lost count at three-thousand."

"And how much food did we put in the bank?"

Another laugh and he responded, "They had to rent storage space."

"And how much money did we raise this week?"

"The accountants stroked out while counting," Lucius sighed, "Just so you know, you are not skipping work next week. You made this mess, you're going to clean it up."

"Yeah, yeah," I replied as Selina approached with a paper cup and a glass of water. "I'll see you Monday." I hung up and took the cups from her, answering her unasked question, "It was Lucius, congratulating us."

"Ah…" she waited to speak until both cups were empty, "You can stay up here if you want."

"Mattie's making lunch. The least I can do is ride down in an elevator."

I spent the afternoon with my family for the first time all week. Mattie somehow conned us into playing Monopoly after a grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and seasoned steak fries. Selina helped Nathan with figuring out mortgages, but other than that he led the game right from the beginning. I found it uncomfortable sitting on the couch and leaning forward over the coffee table but managed to do so for the better part of two hours. Alfred and Leslie had checked in briefly before heading out to attend a luncheon at the Clinic, smiling to see I was alive and well.

In the end, it had come down between Nathan and myself. With a strong desire for the marathon game to come to an end, I started purposefully rolling the die in order to land on his most expensive properties, shelling out my colorful money and collection of properties.

"I won, I'm Mr. Monopoly!" Nathan declared, leaping from the couch in order to hop around victoriously.

"You know what the winner gets?" Mattie smiled.

"What?" my son asked, excitement brightening his face/

"He gets to clean up," she laughed.

Selina had bartered that if they both cleaned up, she would take them out for ice cream. As they hurriedly organized the fake dollar bills and collected the houses and hotels, she asked if I wanted to tag along. I declined, promising I would behave myself in her absence. She had ordered Nathan to escort me to the master bedroom, leaving Ace to watch guard.

I fell asleep not long after, waking when the sky was dusk. Instead of Kitten slashing out at me, Ace had been licking my uninjured hand.

"I'm up," I yawned.

We rode down in the elevator but instead of stopping at the ground floor, I had decided to cue the car to continue to the Cave. I was surprised to find the lights on and the sound of metal clinking from the garage tier below. Ace growled lowly but I reassured him with a pat on the head, "Come on, boy."

I managed the six steel steps with ease and proceeded to cross towards one of the older Batmobiles that was pulled out into the middle. I heard an out of sight Tim instructing , "All right and then we check the lug nuts one more time. Since we pulled the jack out, you always want to check it one more time."

"Okay," I heard Mattie reply.

Tim stood, wiping his hands on a rag before smirking at me, "Hey, Bruce."

Mattie waved the lug wrench from the other side of the car, "Hi, Dad."

"Automotive 101?" I asked.

"Something like that," he began walking around the front end, "I bet you're glad this week is over." His way of asking how I felt, keeping Mattie from learning about the night before.

"I am."

Mattie stood up as well, a smidge of grease on her chin, "What happened to your hand, Dad?"

"Kitten got the best of me. Mom's going to trim his nails later."

"What a crazy cat," she shook her head as she approached, "Well, I'm going to go wash up. I think we have ham left if you want something, Tim."

"Sure, hard to turn down Pennyworth ham." Before following my daughter, Tim looked to me, "If you have a minute, I'd like to talk."

I nodded, "Take a break first."

"Got it, boss," he winked before calling out, "Race you to the clock!"

Ace and I proceeded back up the stairs, the dog patiently waiting as I forced myself up step by step. It had been weeks since I had sat in the chair before the computer and with the solitude of the Cave, I couldn't resist the opportunity. Still as stiff as I had been that morning, I carefully sat down, smirking when Ace lowered his haunches to my left, his eyes and ears at full attention. He hadn't spent a considerable amount of time in the Cave, the overwhelming sounds and smells seemed to be putting his training to the test.

I roughed up his scruff, "Platz, Ace."

Instead of laying down, he let out a low growl, quickly getting to his feet.

Before I could turn around to see what was bothering him so, I spotted a reflection on the blank monitor.

It would have been easy to mistake her for Selina, as she had long, wavy dark hair, a tall, slender frame and a heart shaped face.

It would have been impossible to mistake her for Selina when she said, "It's been too long, my beloved."

^V^