A/N: Takes place after “Reaffirming Bonds” and BB:RotJ; hints of Knightfall; thanks to
“Batman Beyond”
Chapter One
Cold.
So cold the sharp air cut his
nostrils and burned his lungs with every inhale. His muscles ached from their stony
pose, and his hard skin felt like it would crack if he moved.
There was only one other time he’d
felt like this—when Mr. Freeze made him an icicle.
He resigned not to panic, though
whatever strength he had dwindled like sand in an hourglass. Exhaustion
crippled any movement that the coldness had and kept him prone on the table,
struggling against his own eyelids to open them.
A hiss seethed on the edge of his
hearing, and the anticipated, gentle touch of warmth cradled his cheek.
Obtrusive light glowed in front of his eyelids where once comfortable, even
soothing darkness embraced him.
And he was no longer alone.
“Hello, Disciple of the Bat. Your
worth has finally been realized.”
*^*^*
The freshly fallen snow allowed for
easy tracks through the row of gravestones. The darkness of the night granted
the rather sullen scenery an angelic background with the wisps of heavenly
clouds and the background of a clear night. The full moon allowed the duo to
move with accuracy, though elder man still found difficulty in assessing the
onslaught of memories.
“I know
it’s around here somewhere…” a fifty-year-old Tim Drake muttered as he pulled
his jacket about his body just a little bit tighter, as if to keep the cold
years at bay. “God, it’s been forever. I should been out here sooner.”
“Not like
he’s going to know, Mr. Drake,” Terry McGinnis spat as he followed the older
man through the maze of stones. He tried his best to keep his face straight,
though his stomach rocked with queasiness. He’d been to too many cemeteries in
the last year.
“Oh, Dick
was just like Bruce, Terry. Sure, he might not have been the social recluse
Bruce is, but he was just as keen and intelligent.”
“Because he was Mr. Wayne’s son, right?”
Tim nodded.
“Bruce never called him that, but yeah, we all knew it, no matter how much
Bruce denied it.”
“So you
were friends?”
Tim stopped
dead in the snow. “No, we were brothers.” He turned to Terry and shook his
head. “After the whole Joker incident, Dick took me in and gave me a life out
of
“You mean you worked your way through college.”
“Nope. After I left for college, Dick told me he would take
care of everything and just to focus on my studies. I tried to tell him I would
contribute, but he never listened.” A reminiscent smile forged on Tim’s face.
“Just like Bruce.” He shook his head to rid himself of the memories and perked
up suddenly. “Oh, shoot. I’ve been going in the wrong direction. I think it’s
this way.”
Terry
sighed and trailed behind Tim. It was going to be a longer night than most.
*^*^*
Thirty-Two Years Before:
The cave
was different, altered somehow, Batman knew as he jumped out of the Batmobile. It was…warmer. The chill of his parents’ death
exacerbated by Tim’s torture and Alfred’s leave lightened somehow, though the
unfathomable weight upon his shoulders and neck remained. He stopped just short
of his swiveled chair, knowing he had left it in the opposite direction.
Ever so
slowly, it spun to reveal a twenty-nine-year-old Dick Grayson, his hair still
long, his characteristic leather jacket and jeans unchanged. “Hello, Bruce.
Bleed for the fun of it or is the Batman actually prone to aging?”
Batman
hardly glanced down at his grazed chest and instead narrowed his eyes. “Get out
of my seat.”
Dick lifted
his hands in a surrender gesture and stood, even motioning toward the vacant
seat like a host at a restaurant.
Did he
think warmer? He meant as hot as hell. “Why are you here?”
Even as he grabbed
a towel and pressed down on his wounds, Batman heard the slight shuffling of
Dick’s feet, the twisting of the younger man’s fingers, and the rubbing of hair
on the back of Dick’s neck.
Dick was
nervous, like he used to be when he was a little boy and disobeyed. He could
almost see the little acrobat in his Superman pajamas with his fluffy slippers…
Don’t go there.
Never go there.
Dick
hardened his front, a defensive maneuver, Batman knew well. “
‘Hey, Dick, how’s it going? How’s Tim? He’s good?’ None
of that, huh?”
Batman
never looked at him. Couldn’t. The man was no one to
him, except an annoyance. A minor one even at that.
Dick must
have gotten his meaning. He flicked his wrist and opened his mouth, but the
condescending shrill that should have followed never sounded. The uncomfortable
silence that reigned drew Batman’s eyes upward, and Dick pursed his lips.
“Tim made
it into Stanford for Physics. He aced his SATs and everything, and they’re
going to take him, and…and I wrote the place-holder check today.” He raked a
shaky hand through his hair and shook his head. “Bruce, it’s going to bounce.
I’m serious. It’s more than I make in—in two years. Hell, the tuition is more
than I have yet to accrue ever. I—I
don’t know how I’m going to feed us for the next five months, let alone make
rent and—and I tried financial aid, Bruce. I did, and they said since I’m not
technically his legal guardian, I can’t get any, so I didn’t know where else
to—”
A hand
slapped over his mouth. “How much is it?” Batman demanded.
“Hmphamh.”
Batman
growled and pulled away his hand.
Dick
hesitated but told him.
Nodding
once, Batman retreated to his chair and pulled open a draw to grab his
checkbook. “Does he plan on going for his master’s?”
Dick
laughed nervously. “Let’s finish undergraduate first, okay? I don’t think my
heart can take it.”
The check
ripped from the book and folded it, and as Dick took it, his eyes burned the uncowled section of Batman’s face. “I promise I’ll pay you
back. Really. I’m not quite sure when you’ll get it,
but—” He opened the check and gaped. “Bruce…this is for five million dollars.”
Batman
walked past without ever glancing at Dick. “That’s for his master’s if he
decides to go.”
“But—But
Bruce! Besides the fact that you shouldn’t keep five million dollars in any
account because it’s not FDIC insured, I can’t take five million dollars from
you.”
“The rest
is child support, which I should have been paying you for the last five years.”
He began to long journey up the stairs to his other identity.
“Bruce,
when I took Tim in, I didn’t think you would ever—”
“Dick.”
The grim
and even frail tone of his once predominant voice stopped the younger man from
moving, let alone speaking.
“Just don’t
come back.”
*^*^*
“So, after
you went to live with Dick, neither you nor he ever spoke to Mr. Wayne again?”
Terry asked. A gentle breeze blew through the gravestones and ruffled the
leafless branches of the cemetery, chilling Terry to the core. Did it just drop
below zero?
Tim felt it
as well. “No. Actually, I tried to speak with Bruce once or twice, but he
always made things so difficult. He never could let anyone in. At least not
until recently…”
Terry
blushed at the obvious compliment and shrugged. “But he let Dick in originally,
right? I mean, you said they were once the Dynamic Duo? What happened between
them?”
Tim looked
down at the boy’s face, seeing the innocence within it and the marred soul. He
was just a kid—like he had been, like Dick had been, and God, if only the boy
didn’t look like Dick.
“Dick and Babs—”
“Babs?” Terry blinked.
“All right,
Barbara.”
“Wait. You
call the Commish ‘Babs’?
Are you serious?” Terry laughed. “That’s so—”
And there
were times like this Terry certainly showed his age. God, they had all been
like this once, hadn’t they?
“Anyway,”
Tim interrupted. “Barbara and Dick
fed me this story about Dick’s college graduation and how Bruce didn’t show up.
That’s what they say was the breaking point because Bruce was always so
controlling of Dick, and yet he couldn’t even make it
to one of the most important days in Dick’s life.”
“But…that
wasn’t it, was it?”
“No, I
don’t think so.”
*^*^*
Before:
Batman
always knew it would happen some day. Some punk who had no formal training in
fighting, not even one of the insane crack-ups from Arkham,
just some kid who didn’t have a mother or father who hugged him enough when he
was younger, would pull the trigger, and that would be the end. The mission
would be over.
As Batman
elbowed one of the thieves on the rooftop and turned his back to the shaking
criminal, he hardly saw the glimmer of the gun in the teen’s hand. He hadn’t
seen the boy even twitch toward it. He shouldn’t have had a gun, not according
to any of his intel.
“Shouldn’t”
didn’t matter in life or death situations. When he was younger, he would have
been fast enough to seize the weapon. When he was younger, his chest didn’t
ache and burn with the onslaught of injuries not related to his job. When he
was younger—
The gun
went off, but no pain seized his back. He blinked, and as the punk’s cohort in
his hands came to life again, Batman backhanded him and turned to see the blue
and black clad figure taking apart the rest of the gang, the gun that should’ve
ended his life left forsaken on the rooftop.
“What
happened?”
When he was
younger, he had partners.
Nightwing finished the last of the thieves before raising
his eyes to look at Batman. “Do I need to repeat myself? You should’ve had
that.”
Batman
tossed his opponent onto Nightwing’s pile before
treading to the edge of the roof. “I told you not to come back.”
“Yeah,
well, I don’t take orders from you anymore, and anyway, Tim left for
Batman glared
ahead and threw out a line. “You work at a bar.”
“Worked at a bar. I needed to get
a better job when Tim came to live with me. I was not sending him to Bludhaven public schools.” Nightwing
smirked. “I thought the world’s greatest detective would have known that, but I
guess…I guess you really didn’t care.”
The emotional turmoil in the boy’s
voice Batman decided not to acknowledge. “If I see you in
He
tightened the rope around his hands and started to jump when the soft voice
called, “Are you ever going to forgive me for that night?”
Batman
froze but never turned his back from the younger man, though he knew Nightwing’s head hung and his face was worn with grief and
shame.
“Are you
ever going to forgive yourself?”
His own
eyes focused on the brutal street, and he finally closed them, unable to hold
back the sight of the boy’s broken figure from resurfacing.
“It wasn’t
your fault, you know? We—”
“No, that’s
your problem. There was no ‘we.’”
Batman whirled and pointed a finger. “You were a child.”
“I was
twenty! You weren’t much older when you became Batman.”
Batman swiped his hand
dismissively. “That’s no excuse, and I’m done discussing—”
“Avoiding it isn’t going to make the
hurt go away,” Nightwing persisted, taking a step
forward. “You have to come to terms with it.”
“I came to
terms with it,” Batman growled and pushed the hand off his shoulder. “You just
didn’t like the terms.”
“You tried
to control me, and I wasn’t even the one not in control.”
“You should have been able to stop
me.”
“From killing me?
Hey, no offense, but that never came up at one of the training sessions.”
Batman closed his eyes and scowled.
He wiped the image of the boy in his Superman PJs
from his mind. No more. Never again.
Batman
simply shot a second line and dove off the side of the building. Though he
tried not think of Nightwing’s reaction, he knew the
younger man would be growling with frustration, his emotions once more getting
to him.
That was
his problem. He allowed his emotions too much room.
There was
nothing to feel, Batman had realized. It just hurt too damn much.
*^*^*
“See, Bruce
and Dick—they were way more alike than either of them wanted to admit, but they
were also very different,” Tim continued as the puffy clouds began to gather in
the once illuminate sky. “Bruce is reserved. I’m sure you’ve realized that by
now.”
“Oh, old chatterbox?” Terry quipped. “Yeah, half the time I
think he’s fallen asleep against the Batcomputer. He
doesn’t, though. Ever.”
“Yeah and
Dick was the complete opposite. He practically was controlled by his emotions,
expressed every little thing he felt. That’s really why the partnership
dissolved. Dick just didn’t know how Bruce felt about him.”
*^*^*
Before:
“James, I must say, this
speech is one of the most brilliant ones you have written for me,” Bruce said,
leaning against his desk. His completely pitch black hair had given way to a
lining of gray at his temples, while his still handsome face began to show the
mark of age with lines about his eyes and mouth, though not as many as men who
had smiled and loved fully.
“Well, Mr.
Wayne, I can’t take complete credit for this project,” the slightly older man
revealed with a sheepish grin. “My new assistant is superb. He actually wrote
the last three speeches for you.”
“Oh?” Bruce
pulled back his head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve met your assistant before. A fresh kid out of college?”
James sent
Bruce a skeptical glare. “Uh, you don’t know? He and you haven’t talked…? I
thought it was some sort of training for media relations later in his career.”
Bruce
wished he didn’t know the answer to his proverbial question. “Who’s your
assistant, James?”
“You lied
to me,” Bruce grated ten minutes later, standing in the open cubby-way of Dick
Grayson’s “office.” Four walls, a small computer, papers spewed across the
desk, and a Batman coffee mug couldn’t quite be called a “work space.”
The younger
man, dressed in a suit shirt and slacks, leaned back in his chair and smirked
smugly. “I was wondering how long it would take you to realize, Mr. Wayne.
Three months for the world’s greatest detective. The world is doomed.”
Bruce
narrowed his eyes and took a deep—if not cleansing—breath.
“What are you doing here?”
“I dunno. You want to call it empty-nest syndrome?”
“You don’t
have a kid.”
“I meant
Tim, but how would you know anyway? You didn’t even know I quit my job as a
bartender five years ago. Hell, as far as you know, I could be married.”
Bruce’s
blue daggers never swayed from Dick’s. “You don’t have a ring.”
“Fine, divorced.”
“You’re
not.”
Dick
gripped the sides of his chair and arched an eyebrow. “Again, how would you
know?”
“Because someone from the paparazzi would have called me.”
Letting his
frown arched slightly, Dick shrugged. “Touché. Look, I
have work to do. My boss—you would not believe. He’s
such a pain in the arse. He has me writing his
speeches all day long, and he seems to like them, so if you don’t mind…” Dick
swiveled back to his computer and began to type again, only to stop and let out
an aggravated exhale. “What?”
Still in
the same place, Bruce looked over the small area. “This is what you’ve decided
to do with a B.S. in business administration.”
“Well, I
don’t know. My father seems not to want anything to do with me, and if I go for
a better job in this company, I might as well be signing my own pink slip.”
“I’m not
your father,” Bruce snapped.
“Fine. Guardian, mentor, whatever you want
to call it.”
Though the tone was pitched with
aloofness, Bruce still heard the hurt. Ignore
it. “…James will be retiring in a few months. At that time, there will be a
position open for company spokesperson. Would you be interested in that job?”
Confusion swept through Dick’s
gaze. “W—Why would you…Bruce, I’ve only been working here three months.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“But—But that would mean you have
to see me on a daily basis, actually have to acknowledge my existence. I don’t
know if you’re ready for that.”
Bruce pivoted on his heel as if
hitting Dick with his shoulder if the younger man would have been standing.
“I’ll need an answer by the end of the month, so James can teach you the ropes.
If you do decide to go for the job, you will have to cut the hair. The
financial heir of Wayne Enterprises will not be seen representing the company
as an unkempt vagabond.”
He left without another word, and
Dick sat back in his chair. He slowly began to smile.
*^*^*
“So, Mr.
Wayne and Dick reconciled after they originally dissolved their partnership?”
Terry asked as they turned down another row of stones.
Tim nodded
absently as he glanced down the rows. “Yeah, when I became Robin and Dick
became Nightwing. Bruce even went after him when he
tried to leave again, and more or less told Dick that he loved him. That’s when
they really reconnected again, even though Dick joined the Titans a little
while later. He was off-world when the Joker…and when he came back,” Tim
continued with a little less fervor, “he found out about my predicament, he
offered to take me out of Gotham because Bruce
couldn’t even look at me. He still
called Bruce to tell him how I was doing, but eventually, Bruce just stopped
taking them.”
“Why?”
Tim let out
a long exhale and beseeched to the white flakes descending from above like
frozen tears. “Bruce lives in fear, Terry. After he lost his parents, he
thought everyone he ever loved would die. Whatever happened almost took Dick
away. Then Barbara came, and Dick and he dissolved their partnership. I came
along not too long later. The Joker tortured me, and Barbara was shot. Bruce
thought it was only a matter of time before something happened to Dick, too. He
thought the best thing to do was push Dick away for his own safety—and for
Bruce’s sanity.”
Terry’s
head perked up. “Why Mr. Wayne’s sanity?”
“Barbara
was injured pretty badly, yeah. I was tortured and almost lost my own sanity,
but if he lost Dick…I didn’t think there would ever be saving Bruce.”
*^*^*
Before:
Dick’s head
popped up at the movement at his office door.
“Are you ready for lunch?” Bruce
asked, a hand pressed against his glass door.
Dick blinked at the sudden question
and even more at the mischievous sparkle in Bruce’s eyes. Dick matched it. “Oh,
I wish I could, Bruce. You have no idea, but I just heard rumors of a hostile
takeover, and I have to get all over it. I still need to prove that even though
I got this promotion totally through nepotism, I’m capable of doing it.”
Bruce stuffed his hands in his
pockets. “You never had anything to prove to me.”
The simple sentence drew Dick’s
head up, and his grin grew. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, but I really need
you to come with me to lunch. It’s a working one, and I need to know your
opinion on a personnel case.”
Dick opened one of the many folders
on his desk and shook his head. “Bruce, I think we really need to nip this in
the—”
A hand clamped down upon his,
stopping Dick from opening another folder. “Trust me. It will wait.”
Dick tugged once but with no avail.
“It’s that serious?”
Bruce let him go and stood
straighter. “Get your coat. Leave everything else.”
Nodding
numbly, Dick rose and took his coat off the back of his seat. He flung it over
his forearm as he began to unravel his shirt sleeves and came about the desk.
Passing his secretary’s desk, she waved.
Bruce simply shrugged. “I already
told Meredith to hold all your calls.”
Dick straightened his tie before
pulling on his jacket. “Okay, Bruce, what’s so urgent that you need—Derek
Powers.”
At the elevators stood a
fair-haired man with a firmly pressed suit in the newest fashion. No longer
were ties acceptable, though Dick fought the issue. Instead, only a
rectangle-shaped pattern crossed the chest, while the man’s jacket resembled a
robe. His malevolently dark eyes bore into Dick’s as he put out his hand.
“Oh, so I see you know Derek Powers
of Powers Industries,” Bruce interjected. “Derek, Dick Grayson, my financial
heir and spokesperson for Wayne Enterprises.”
“Dick—”
“Mr. Grayson, please,” Dick
interrupted and accepted the man’s hand, though his face twisted into a
neutrally harsh expression. “And Mr. Powers, I hear you are the up-and-coming
CEO of Wayne Enterprises—and didn’t I hear you wanted to call the new company
‘Wayne-Powers’?”
Derek snatched back his hand.
“Excuse me, Mr. Grayson?”
“I’ve heard
your company is attempting to get together a bid to buy Wayne Enterprises and
if not, wage a hostile takeover.”
Bruce knew
Dick’s tells by the time the young man reached adulthood. Heck, he knew them by
the time the boy stepped into his home more than twenty years ago, and Bruce
allowed himself a small smile at the arching of Dick’s shoulders, the coolness
of his face, and the condemning glare in his eyes.
The boy was
ruthlessly good.
Derek’s
eyebrows lowered; his lips ever so slightly pursed to show his discomfort,
though no one other than the Batman and his protégé would have noticed. “Come
now, Mr. Grayson. How can you possibly believe such rumors?”
“Rumors? Oh, I know it’s more than rumors, Mr. Powers.”
The man’s
glare turned deadly. “And how could you possibly know that?”
“I make it
my business to know things I shouldn’t know, which include the business
practices of your company.”
“Then
perhaps…” Derek attempted to straighten his tie, which he could not do in the
new suit—obviously a nervous gesture. “…we should discuss a merger.”
Dick
clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “With your company’s
non-eco-friendly practices in
“Well,
actually, Mr. Powers was our lunch date.”
“Perhaps we
should put a hold on lunch, Bruce,” Derek replied with a forced smile, “unless,
of course, you would wish to continue
this discussion. I feel Mr. Grayson would not be open to any thoughts I may
have on this matter.”
“I’m sorry,
Derek, but Dick is the future CEO of this company,” Bruce said with a clasp of
Dick’s shoulder. “If he doesn’t feel comfortable doing business with Powers
Industries, then I don’t either.”
“Apparently,
as long as you are here, Mr. Grayson, Wayne Enterprises and Powers Industries
will be adversaries.”
“Or until
the Securities and Exchange Commissioner investigates you, whichever comes
first,” Dick added.
Bruce,
however, wasn’t laughing. As soon as the words came out of Derek’s mouth, his
amused expression darkened into a deep frown, and he moved forward. He only
stopped because Dick put a hand on his arm.
“Good day,
Mr. Powers.”
The
elevator dinged upon arrival, and Mr. Powers treaded inside. “Good day, Mr.
Grayson.”
Once the elevator
closed, Bruce grabbed Dick by the shoulder and made the younger man face him.
“You shouldn’t have stopped me.”
“You can’t
go all B-man on the guy’s ass just because he said some idle threats, Bruce,
and I’m not kidding about the SEC. They’ll eventually investigate his company,
and he’ll be locked up for ten to twenty.” He shrugged and hit the down button.
“And you don’t have to worry about me, not that you would, but if you were
going to, I was trained by the Batman, y’know. I can
take care of myself. Now, where’d you want to eat? I’m starving, and chewing
out unlawful CEOs doesn’t fill me.”
Bruce let
Dick enter the elevator first and crossed his arms once he leaned against the
wall. Something didn’t sit well. It didn’t sit well with him at all, but Dick
seemed oblivious as he took Bruce by the elbow and coaxed him out of the
building.
*^*^*
Terry
rolled his eyes. “We’re never going to find it at this rate.”
Tim spared
the boy a malicious glare and instead bent down to wipe the newly fallen snow
off the name of the gravestone. Nope. Still a
“So, like,
what happened with Mr. Wayne and Dick?” Terry asked, keeping pace with Tim.
“You said you tried to reconcile with Bruce after your problems. Did Dick
ever?”
Tim’s pace
slowed considerably even before they began to climb. “Well, I know Dick went to
see him a few times, and I thought Dick received the brush off.”
Terry
grinned knowingly. “I sense a ‘but’ somewhere, Mr. Drake.”
“But,” Tim
relented with a small grin, “once you’re taught by Bruce, you don’t forget the
lessons he instilled you in. Whenever I came home for Christmas, the apartment
we shared in Bludhaven would be covered in dust, more
than it should have been. Dick was never a neat-freak, but it was bad even for
him. And y’know, there was that whole company
spokesman job that quickly turned into W.E. CFO.”
“WHAT?” Terry shrieked.
Tim nodded. “Yes. It was hard to
miss ‘Wayne Enterprises’ spokesman Richard Grayson’ in the Wall-Street Journal. I don’t exactly know what happened, but I’d
like to think that in his last few years, Dick made some sort of peace with the
old man. After all, Dick said he would bring a date to my wedding, and I always
it was going to be Bruce.”
*^*^*
Before:
Dick
growled and dropped his suit bag to the ground of the Batcave.
“Oh, come on, Bruce. You can’t just abstain from this.”
Still
cloaked in his Batsuit, Batman only lowered his head
and placed the computer chip into the tracer.
Rolling his
eyes, Dick leapt forward, grabbed the back of the chair and dropped to the
computer console next to the tracer. “Be my date. I told Tim and Steph I would bring one, and let’s be honest. Not many
people even know what a CFO is, so it’s not much of a pick-up line.”
Batman
narrowed his eyes and soldered the metals. “Why don’t you get married? Why
aren’t you already?”
“Why does
it matter? Because then I wouldn’t be annoying you?”
“Yes.”
Dick sighed and dropped his hands
to the console next to his thighs. His eyes became distant as he whispered, “I
almost did…once.”
Batman dropped his soldering stick
to the mainframe. “What?”
Dick shrugged. “When Tim was…y’know, I was off-planet with the Titans. You remember Starfire, right? Kory Anders?”
“The model?”
Cringing, Dick divulged, “Yeah. We
were together for a while, and one of our missions took us to her home planet.
She and I…almost married there.”
“…What stopped you?”
“Other than the fact
that she wanted to live there and I had a life on Earth—Raven, another Titan, kinda blew up the minister. It really put everything
into perspective. We were rushing into it, and—well, the minister blowing up
was probably a sign.”
“And you haven’t dated since?”
Batman asked, sitting back in his chair.
“Well…a long time ago I thought…”
He ruffled his hair, and his hand drifted down to his neck.
Batman averted his eyes. “Barbara…”
Dick arched his shoulder and jumped
down from the console. “I always thought we’d…but then she fell for you while I
was gone traveling the globe, and…hell, if you could have the most handsome
eligible bachelor on the planet, why would you date that man’s…former ward or
whatever I am to you? And if you say ‘sidekick,’ I will kill you.”
Silence overcame the Dark Knight as
he looked up at Dick’s back as the younger man reclaimed his suit bag and
duffle from the floor.
Batman swiveled in his chair toward
the screen. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Dick.”
“Hey, it’s been years, and
Barbara’s moved on. You have, too, and Kory came
after. I guess I’m still just looking for the right woman; that’s all.” Dick
shrugged. “I can’t force you to come to Tim’s wedding, but he’ll be hurt that
you didn’t show.”
“It’s…better this way. If I were to
come, it would drudge up too many bad memories, something he shouldn’t have on
his wedding day.”
“But—”
“Trust me. Now isn’t the time for a
reunion. Another time and place.”
Dick smirked and threw his suit bag
over his shoulder. Progress. “All
right. I’ll be back on the nineteenth. If you need anything before, you
know my cell number.”
He only reached the bottom steps of
the cave’s exit before Batman called softly, “Dick…why are
you still here?”
Dick arched an eye with a growing
grin. “Why do you still let me be?”
Batman never answered, and Dick
nodded once to himself.
“Right, just what I thought.”
*^*^*
The man cloaked in darkness pressed
his body against the steel doorframe of the asylum and waited until the
laughing orderlies passed his shadow. Then, he inched through the corridors,
snatched a nurse’s coffee and cinnamon roll, and ran his gloved finger down the
roster. He found the person’s name and location and moved swiftly to the
maximum security cells.
He smirked to himself as he entered
the room, sipping his coffee sparingly. “Hello, Mr. Powers. Long time no see.”
*^*^*
Terry blew his warm breath
into his hands. “I still don’t understand why Dick returned to Mr. Wayne. If
Bruce dated his former girlfriend, didn’t attend his graduation, and he even
finished raising you, why would he ever want to be in Mr. Wayne’s life?”
“Why are
you?” Tim demanded pointedly, stopping just for the moment to glare into
Terry’s eyes.
Terry
averted his own and didn’t answer.
Tim patted
his shoulder. “Exactly. We all love Bruce, even if at
times he is difficult to be around. But for Dick, it…it’s like your situation.
Dick knew what we all did, even more so than Alfred.” Tim grunted as he huffed
more with even the minor incline and used a tree as leverage. “If there was
anyone who ever could save Bruce from himself, it was Dick. I invited myself
into the business. Barbara, too. Dick was the only one
Bruce invited, and he—he was truly the light to Bruce’s darkness.”
*^*^*
Before:
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“*huff* I’m
fine. Did you find the information I asked you to?”
In a Gotham Knights T-shirt and sweats, Dick rubbed the bridge
of his nose and situated himself cross-legged in the chair at the Crays. “Yeah, on the grounds used to be a green house, and
the toxicology report shows a match. Apparently that leaf person’s body—well,
it had traces of Jefferson Smith’s DNA. It’s practically got Ivy’s fingerprints
all over it, and worse, it’s the tenth high profile business manager in how
many weeks. She’s collecting them. The question is—Why?”
Another
huff followed the scream of a thug as a crack shattered the silence.
“You know, Bruce, it would be great
if I could at least see what you’re doing and not just sit on my ass just and
listen you to breathe heavier than you should be and worry about it.”
“En route. I’ll contact you when I get to the greenhouse.”
Before Dick
even opened his mouth, “Communication Terminated” flashed upon the big screen.
He sighed and sat back in his chair. Poison Ivy. Again. She was never a lightweight criminal, but years ago,
they used to be able to handle her. Sure, he was kidnapped in exchange for five
million dollars, and then she kidnapped him again and made him rob banks…
And yeah,
there was that whole marriage to Susan when Dick originally got Tim as a
full-time partner and took over his training for Bruce to be happy.
That was nothing compared to what
happened the one time she managed to kiss Bruce. Even though his eyes were
opened, Dick could see the scene before him like a reflection upon glass—Batman
striding forward with lipstick still smudged upon his mouth; rips contouring
his wrists and welling with blood from the thorns that held him down; his cold
eyes poring into Robin’s as the boy took a step back.
“…Batman?”
Dick wiped the thought from his
mind. He better head to the lab and make some antidote, just in case. He pushed
out of the chair, only to be snatched from behind and thrown back into it.
Before he could squirm, the vine about his waist doubled in strength, while
four more seized his wrists and ankles and restrained them.
“Hello…Richard. Or do you prefer ‘Nightwing’? I actually prefer ‘plant food.’”
In the reflection of the monitor,
Dick caught of the eyes of Pamela Isley, as her
large, elephant-like plant rose from the depths of the Batcave’s
caverns and onto the platform. Sitting with her knees bent like riding
side-saddle on the leaf, she waved on plant-human mutants, who appeared too
much like the Swamp Thing than Dick wanted to admit, just like Smith’s body
Batman found in the
Dick wrung his wrists and hissed as
the thorns ripped his skin. “So…you heard.”
She shrugged as her plant brought
her forward, and her saucy smile in the monitor’s reflection sent chills down
his spine. “Of course. I’d heard weeping sobs from men
before. Yours was just another kiss upon my lips.”
“…Batman…stop…”
The
blaring agony radiating from the left side of his abdomen almost kept him
pinned to the tree trunk as much as the dagger. His trembling hands fumbled
with the hilt, but with the crimson smattering his torn gloves and his
crippling exhaustion from the brutal battle, Robin couldn’t pull the blade from
his battered body.
Gulping
back the metallic liquid dribbling down his chin, Robin ducked his head at the
cold shadow that was cast upon him. As his heart thumped out his chest and the
world darkened even in the well-lit greenhouse, the boy raised his bruised face
to see the stony eyes of his mentor, those that would normally look upon him
with affection and kindness but now had been firmed by Ivy’s influence to
embitterment and rage.
Batman
lifted his crimson fist, which had been christened by Robin’s blood, and the
boy murmured the only thing he could think to break the spell.
“Please…Bruce…”
Uttered
in desperation and necessity—the single address—despite all his broken screams
and sobbed pleads—had been the only thing heard.
Dick’s eyes narrowed as he left the
past and burned his eyes toward Ivy. “If you knew all along, why didn’t expose
us years ago?”
“Because I didn’t
know just how to use this to my fullest potential.” Her monster carried
her to his seat, and she twisted it around so her lips were only inches from
his. Her green eyes dazzled with the vibrancy of jungle fury, and her gloved
hand massaged his neck just below his chin. A fly in a Venus trap he was. “I
must admit, though, I am impressed by Wayne Enterprises’ environmental policy.
It’s one of the only true green companies out there. Too bad I’m going to have
to kill its CEO.”
“So, that’s why you kidnapped those
CEOs and managers. Their companies—”
“—harmed beautiful Mother Earth,
and if she wasn’t going to stand up to them, then someone else had to.”
“No chance you caught Derek Powers,
is there? He’s a real pain in my ass.”
Ivy smiled benevolently. “He’s been
out of the country, but don’t worry. He’s on the list.”
Even after all these years, it was
hard for Dick to keep the smirk from his lips as his fingers maneuvered open
the little compartment in the back of the chair and he extracted two daggers.
He used to tell Bruce he was paranoid, but now, he truly thanked his mentor for
being this bright. He prepared for almost every situation.
“Bruce understands your plight,
Pamela. Hell, he maybe even agrees with you, but you go about achieving your
dream the wrong way.”
“That’s why I’m going to try
something new this time.” Her breath resembled the aromatic scent of fresh cut
roses and carnations. “I already married someone to your father for his money.”
Dick scowled and tried futilely to
pull his chin from her grip. “He’s not my father.”
“Fine, but you are still his
financial heir. Once my transformed CEOs take care of Mr. Wayne, you will
inherent his entire fortune. Then you’ll sign it over to me before you have an
unfortunate accident.”
A flick of shimmering blue caught
Dick’s attention on the small ledge overlooking the costume wall. Again, he
fought the urge to laugh at her. “And just what makes you so sure I’ll hand
Bruce’s money to you?”
Ivy’s lips now hovered just before
his. “Oh, I can be very persuasive.”
Her hand dropped to the back of his
neck, but as she pulled his head forward, a swinging batarang
cut through the air. Dick immediately slashed the vines binding his arms, as
the batarang sliced through those restraining his
ankles. He immediately kicked Ivy in the stomach and sent her tumbling off her
leaf monster. Of course, it was then he realized the teeth the plant-elephant
had.
Great.
He flipped onto the headrest of the
chair and dove over the chomping jaws of the monster before rolling on the
ground and coming to his feet. A flick of a cape, the clap of a boot heel
against the ground, and Dick pressed backwards to feel Batman’s shoulder blades
against his own.
“Thanks for coming.”
“You all right?”
“Other than the
obvious, yeah. How’d you know I was in trouble?”
“Tried to call for extra antidote
and couldn’t reach you.”
“It doesn’t matter, Batman,” Ivy
proclaimed as she stood and shook her head. “My new green bodyguards can do more
than look like chia-pets. I enhanced their strength
and abilities, and with one little kiss, they were all under my spell.” She
clapped her hands. “Boys, destroy the Bat. Leave the other one for Momma.”
Now Dick could let out a dry
chuckle. “Wow. Looks like you drew the short straw, huh?”
“Quiet.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”
Dick snickered as he dove forward and sliced the nails from a monster’s claws
before Batman shot a detox dart. The monster growled
with venom before crumbling to the ground, and Dick began toward another one.
Oh, how he missed this—the Kevlar part of the job. Too long had Bruce not
allowed him to hit the jumplines and only sit cooped
up in the cave, helping out with research and cerebral skills.
But this—this was the job, and apparently, if you didn’t go to the job, the job
came to you.
As he swiped out with his dagger, a vine
wrapped about his bare ankle and tugged him off course, slamming him hard into
the ground.
Grunting through the pain, he
pulled his leg and swiped himself free before hearing the loud wheezes from
Batman’s throat. Wide-eyed, he whirled on the ground to see Batman attack,
slower than he should have been, his mouth open to suck in dry gasps.
“Bruce…?”
Batman managed to stab a batarang into a monster’s shoulder and pierce the green
abdomen with a dart, but it cost him a slap upside the face and a nasty scratch
across the cheek. It would cost him more as a monster lunged to knock Batman
toward the landing’s edge.
“No!” Dick shot to his feet and
intercepted the rushing monster, ramming him in the side and forcing him over
the edge instead. As he kicked another and lost his knife to a fourth’s
shoulder, he turned just in time to see Bruce tumble in the open air by the
hanger. On instinct, he snatched a bat-line from the wall and with precision
honed through his childhood, tossed it. He knew even before the taunting of the
line and the weight tugging him to the ledge that he’d caught Batman like his
mentor had done so many times before to him.
Gritting his teeth, Dick held on
with all his might as he looked down at Batman, whom he snagged by the wrist.
With his free hand, Bruce clutched his ribs while his widened eyes gazed upward
at Dick with fright.
Fright?
When was Batman ever—
Dick’s squinted eyes shot open when
the small leafs of a vine tickled his stomach and dipped under his shirt to
pull the cloth up. A warm, inviting body settled against him a moment later,
sultry hands followed the vine’s path to caress the scar of his knife wound,
and he kept his eyes focused on Batman.
Even though his chest puffed and
dropped faster than a bird during the winter months, Batman still managed to
mouth, “Let me go.”
Even though his arms felt as if
they were going to tear from their sockets, Dick managed to mouth back, “Lose
weight.”
“I have wondered, Batman. Whom do
you blame for this?” Ivy asked, and Dick flinched when he felt her gloved hands
rub the clef of his chest. “Me…or yourself?”
As she moved about his body to face
Dick once more, the younger man saw his opening, though, like always, Batman
saw it before. A batarang connected with the back of
Ivy’s head. The rest happened in slow motion as her lifeless body fell
backwards and over the edge, and Dick felt his heart plummet with her.
Batman’s hand shot out to save her,
and still, after all these years, he managed to snag her wrist. The extra
weight upon his body, however, pressed a loud growl through his teeth. Dick
began to tug Batman and Ivy upward when a low moan whispered on the edge of his
hearing. He glanced over his shoulder to see the CEO monsters along with Ivy’s
monster approach. He couldn’t hold onto Bruce and Ivy and stop the CEO monsters
from attacking.
The weight upon his line eased.
Dick’s heart stopped.
Bruce let go of the line.
To Be Continued…