Fic: Bringing Him Home 3/3, Dick/Tim, NC17
Title: Bringing Him Home 3/3
Author: Lara
Rating: light NC17
Word Count: 11,296 (yeah, you read that right--that would be the whole story)
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: See the author's note at the end of the prologue as I don't want to give anything away.
Content: Angst, slash relationship and tiny bit of sex, probable squicky relationship, more angst, violence, language, and still more angst
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade, who isn't in this fic, would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for the wtf27 prompt #17, Trading Places.
No one ran into Renegade that night or for the next seven. Gotham continued to be Gotham--dark and hot as May gave way to June--and the crazies and the villains kept the Bat Clan busy.
Eight nights after the truth came out, Robin landed lightly on a rooftop across from the Museum of Science and Technology and walked to the edge to peer down at the street. Frowning, he lifted his wrist communicator to his mouth. "O? R. There's nobody here."
He could almost hear the tapping of keys and the roll of the chair between monitors. "All intel says a hit on the MST is in progress from the south front." A few seconds passed. "But, the cameras from the ATM across the street show nothing. This is weird."
"Night off?" Robin asked, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, right, Boy Wonder," Barbara scoffed. "Take a few minutes break there while I look into this mystery. O, out."
The communicator clicked off and Robin lowered his hands to the balustrade running around the roof. "Weird is right."
"Maybe I just wanted you where I could find you."
The familiar voice made him turn, bo staff extending as he easily fell into a fighting stance.
From six feet away Renegade raised his hands and smirked at him. "Easy there, kid. I didn't come here to fight."
Robin didn't relax. "You've been laying low."
"Been thinking."
"Plotting more crime sprees?"
"No, thinking."
Robin raised his wrist to his mouth again. "I'm not supposed to engage you."
"Darn, and I so wanted to marry you." Renegade rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't call it in."
"I...have to. He knows everything already and I promised I would."
Surprise leaked into Renegade's voice. "You told him?"
"He figured it out," Robin replied miserably. "Look, it's bad enough that he knows. I can't disobey him on this."
Taking a step forward the older man held out one hand and softly said,"Tim, stop."
Slowly Robin lowered his wrist and then his eyes, shaking his head. "What do you want?"
"Just to talk, I swear."
"I can give you maybe five minutes. Oracle told me to take a break while she worked on something."
"Okay, I can work with that." Nodding to himself, Renegade pointed to the staff. "Wanna put that away?"
"...No."
"I guess I deserve that." Renegade took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, then let them sag again as he grunted, "To hell with it," and bridged the distance between them to grab Tim and kiss him hard and hungrily.
Tim dropped the staff, diving into the kiss for a minute, before remembering where he was and with whom, and pushing the other man back. "What the hell?"
It was Dick who gave him a cocky grin. "Alfred dropped by. Told me to get my shit together. Well, not in those words, of course, though he did actually say 'bullshit'. I nearly died."
"...Huh?"
The grin dropped away and Dick peeled off his mask, fiddling with it for a moment. "I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive Bruce, or even talk to him, but..." He looked at Tim. "Will you take off your mask? I've never seen your eyes."
He shouldn't. He wasn't allowed, but...Slowly Tim removed his mask and stuffed it into its pouch. When Dick's hands found his shoulders and slid beneath the cape around to his back to reel him closer, Tim let him. Their eyes met, both a startling blue, and Tim felt his heart thud painfully in his chest.
"It's not all about hurting Bruce, kid," Dick said softly, his fingers stroking lightly over taut muscles. "Not anymore." And then his mouth was on Tim's again, this time the kiss more gentle, tender, until Tim became the aggressor, pushing Dick back until he hit the roof-access door with a grunt. Their mouths twisted together, their hands ran over spandex and armor clad torsos, and passion sprang hard between them.
Until Oracle spoke cool and fast in Robin's ear. "Batman's ten sec..."
"Here," Batman said, interrupting Oracle's warning and the two men kissing.
Extreme embarrassment wiped out all desire and Tim jerked away from Dick, stumbling backwards and wiping at his swollen lips.
"Shit," Dick groaned, then glared at the looming Bat who stood to the side of the other two, the three of them forming a loose triangle. "Coitus interruptus."
"Shut up,"Tim hissed, then flinched away from the look Batman turned on him, even from beneath the cowl.
"Put your mask back on," Batman ordered tightly.
"Go away," Renegade interjected, his voice just as cold. "I'm not hurting the kid."
"You never will again." Without looking at him, Batman addressed his youngest, "We talked about this, Robin. I trusted you."
"Quit laying the shitty guilt trip on him. You're pissed at me, not him, so take it out on me."
Batman responded to the angry yelling by lowering his voice to that cold, mean and determined register that sent shudders through every Gotham criminal. "What you have with Robin is over, Renegade, and you're going to prison."
"You'd never risk it. My identity gets out and yours follows," Renegade bluffed.
"You've murdered people in my city. You have to pay for those crimes. If my secrets are the price I pay, so be it."
"You're bluffing."
"I don't bluff."
Both men stared at each other until Renegade began to pale and his mouth dropped open, only to tighten quickly, his jaw squaring as determination took the place of shock. "I won't let you take me in. You'll have to kill me."
"You're already dead."
The devastated look was brief, but Tim saw it on Dick's face and it tore at him enough to shake him from his paralysis and move him between the older two. "Stop it." Still maskless he looked up at Bruce, then over at Dick, and shook his head. "Stop it."
"Robin," Batman ground out, "Go home."
"Tim," Dick said softly, his voice suddenly tired, "Stay."
Alerted to the crisis by Oracle, Nightwing dropped lightly to the roof and crossed to the trio, taking his place at Batman's side, his eyes taking in everything. He could tell the tension was about to snap. "Everyone calm down."
Everyone ignored him.
Tim looked from father to lover and back again, then turned to face Batman. "Please let me talk to him alone."
"You weren't talking."
Flushing, Tim tried again, "Please."
"...Mask. On."
This time Tim obeyed and Batman nodded, "Five minutes," before shooting a grapple line to the museum.
"You sure about this, Robin?" Nightwing's voice was low and concerned but the look he shot Renegade was a cold warning.
"Yeah."
"Okay." Trusting his little brother, Nightwing followed the Bat.
Tim's shoulders slumped and his legs gave out, sending him into a crouch, arms wrapping around his knees. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Dick dropped to one knee in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "See where talking to him gets me?"
"That wasn't talking and that was the Bat. You need to talk to Bruce. Come home and talk to him," Tim stressed, looking up into the tired eyes of Dick Grayson.
"I won't go to jail. I can't," the older man ground out.
"You've killed, Dick. You can't just get away with that." Sorrow filled Tim's voice and he reached up and wrapped his gloved fingers around the ones resting on his shoulder. "I don't know what we can do, but it has to start with talking."
"What you're really saying is that I have to stop killing. Maybe I'm not willing to do that," Renegade blustered harshly, pulling his hand free and rising to his feet.
Tim pushed himself back up, his legs a bit more steady, and shook his head, "If you're not, then we have to be over."
"Don't give me that ultimatum."
Trembling slightly at the snarl in his lover's voice, the younger man shot him a determined look. "How much more pain do you really want to cause him?"
Renegade opened his mouth to give his pat answer, then closed it, his eyes going shuttered. "What do you want from me, Tim?"
"You just said that this, whatever we have, isn't to hurt Bruce. So, that's one less thing, which means something is changing in you. Push it enough and stop killing, even if it's only long enough to really talk to him."
"I'm not ready to forgive him."
"I didn't say forgive him," Tim yelled softly, reaching out and grabbing Dick's arm. "Talk to him. Tell him what happened to you. We have theories upon theories, but what brought you back? What turned you hard? Why are you killing? Not just to piss off Bruce, but really why?"
Dick looked down into Tim's sparkling eyes and slowly shook his head in wonder. "Why does this matter so much to you?"
"Because he matters. Because you do. Because this is family, Dick, and we're tearing each other apart, and it has to stop. Because..." His hand slid up to Dick's shoulder then the back of his neck, and he pulled, and Dick went into the kiss with open eyes. "Please," Tim whispered against those firm lips, as they breathed the same breath.
Slowly Dick pulled away and began to nod. "Okay. But, not tonight." Turning, he sprinted to the far side of the building and dove off.
As he struggled to bring his breathing and heart rate under control, Tim watched him go until his father's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You let him go."
"I'm not arresting him. I can't." Both knew it had nothing to do with Robin physically being unable to bring down Renegade.
"Nightwing and I will finish your patrol. Go home." Bruce's concern shown through the Bat's voice, and Robin turned to give him a nod of gratitude, then followed Renegade over the back of the building.
"This has gotta end," Nightwing said softly. "It's tearing him to pieces."
"I just...don't want it to end badly," Bruce admitted. At Jason's surprised look, he let his lips twist slightly. "It's such a surprise that I don't want him hurt?"
"The mission always comes first."
"That's what I've always said." He shrugged his shoulders and grunted. "He's part of the mission, though. They...both are, and maybe...they're more than the mission."
"Did you wander into any funny plants tonight?"
Batman actually smiled at that--a very brief, tight smile--then he clapped Nightwing on the shoulder and took out his grapple hook. "You take south of Dunbar and the zoo. I'll wrap up the west side and drop by the Iceberg Lounge. Meet you at base in ninety."
"Sure." Nightwing watched him leave, then shook himself and tapped his earpiece. "Did you get all that?"
"Maybe he's human after all?" Barbara said, a smile in her voice.
"Who'd have thunk it."
*****
Renegade slipped through the window into his apartment and nearly fell over in shock when a light came on. A gun was in his hand and pointed before he processed who sat in his frayed Barcalounger.
"Put that away, young man."
Flushing, Dick holstered the gun, then peeled off his mask and dropped tiredly onto his sofa. He noticed his new tea service was being used and grunted.
Alfred rose to pour, then handed Dick a cup and saucer. "This is acceptable."
Picking up a white chocolate chip cookie, the younger man munched hungrily. "Nobody beats your cookies, Alf."
Resuming his seat, back straight and feet firmly on the floor, Alfred took a sip of Earl Grey tea. "It is also acceptable that you listened to me and didn't cause any more pain to Master Tim."
"I'm not sure about that," Dick sighed and finished his cookie, before looking guiltily at his surrogate grandfather. "Bruce is pissed at him."
"He is not, actually."
"How do you know?"
"Oracle keeps me well informed."
"Nosy cow," Dick grunted again, staring into his cup, then leaning forward to place it on the table and his elbows on his knees. "I...don't know what to do."
At the longing in the young man's voice, Alfred set his own cup down, then rose to join Dick on the sofa and lightly pat his shoulder. "Yes, you do, my boy. You really do. Something went wrong inside you. The miracle of your return turned into something dark, but there's too much light in you for the darkness to win."
Dick turned stricken eyes on him. "He...he says I have to go to jail."
"Maybe you will, but we'll be there for you. Regardless of what you do, family shouldn't abandon you and this one won't. I won't let it." His hand tightened on the muscular shoulder and he held the other man's eyes with his own sincere yet serious ones. "But, first, you have to stop, and you have to feel remorse."
"I...don't know if I can. There's all this anger and frustration inside me and it just boils over, Alfred, and I want to just scream and tear everything to pieces, and it's easier to hit the streets and take it all out on someone who deserves it."
"There are other ways to channel aggression."
"I was taught to hit people."
"You weren't taught to kill."
Dick had the grace to look embarrassed and pulled away from Alfred to lean against the back of the sofa and stare at the water-stained ceiling. "I'm just so tired, Alfie."
The voice of a scared little boy nearly broke the older man, who wrapped his arms around the younger and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Oh, my dear, dear boy. We'll fix this the best we can, I promise." Fingers twisting through tangled black hair, he tugged that stricken face to his shoulder and closed his eyes as Dick began to cry.
*****
After cleaning up and logging his reports, then reading Jason's and making a few notes to discuss at breakfast, Bruce ascended the stairs from the cave and walked through the silent house. Jason had arrived home shortly before he had and had gone up while he'd showered. The security system showed Tim was in his room, and Bruce knew to let him be for the night. Bruce hadn't noticed Alfred's location, expecting him to be waiting for him in the kitchen or his bedroom.
He wasn't in either place.
Frowning, Bruce picked up the communicator next to his bed and called Oracle.
"What? I'm in bed," Barbara growled sleepily.
"Where's Alfred?"
"Um..."
"Barbara."
"Don't go Bat on me," she replied defensively. "I told him what happened tonight and he went over to Renegade's." They all knew just where the fallen Robin lived, though they never talked about it.
"Dammit."
"He's not going to hurt Alfred."
"We don't know what Renegade will do," Batman ground out.
"It's not the first time he's gone there, Bruce." She stressed his real name to try to calm him down. "You know he can take care of himself."
"There are too many damn secrets in this family."
As he hung up on her, Barbara snorted at the irony of that statement.
*****
Dick awoke to a feeling of warmth and security and an odd rejuvenation. Blinking open his eyes, he noticed the quilt tucked around him where he lay on the couch, and stretching he realized his boots and jacket had been removed.
Alfred had tucked him in.
Blushing, the big, tough vigilante sat up and reached for another cookie, stuffing it in his mouth before noticing the note that sat next to the plate. He flipped it open and silently read it.
Sunday tea at the manor.
Not a demand, not a command performance, but a request.
A plea from his grandfather.
The rejuvenation he felt was joined by a new resolve, and he nodded to himself before reaching for another cookie.
*****
"How many times have you been to see him?"
Alfred finished pouring the coffee, then set down the silver coffee pot. "Twice."
"He's dangerous," Bruce growled, slapping down the front section of the Daily Planet next to his plate of whole-wheat pancakes topped with fresh strawberries.
"Not to me. I believe, in fact, he's more of a danger to himself than to any of us."
"You saw Tim's face last week."
Alfred's voice tightened, and he glanced at the other end of the table where the boys had their faces buried in the sports' section--Jason--and the technology section--Tim--while shoveling food in their mouths and trying very hard not to listen. "That is a thing of the past. Master Dick understands the cost of fresh bruises on the young sir."
"Oh geez," Tim muttered, nearly choking on a piece of sausage in his desire to eat as fast as humanly possible.
"You can't trust him,"Bruce growled again, frustrated that everyone in his family seemed to be trying to understand and accept Renegade.
"I trust the boy we raised," Alfred said with finality before leaving the dining room and Bruce shaking his head.
"He needs to be arrested and pay for his crimes."
Frowning at Bruce's muttering, Jason set aside the newspaper and looked up at his father. "Y'know, that would sound more convincing if you didn't actually know where he lived and didn't know how to dial a phone."
Bruce glared at his middle son. "You're defending him now?"
"No, I'm just pointing out the obvious. If you really wanted him arrested, he'd be arrested. Now, I don't know why you haven't done that, but it's probably some big confusing mess of reasons along the lines of son, Robin, secret identities, guilt, repentance and relief. The Bat wants him to pay for his crimes, and, y'know, I do understand that. He's killed I don't know how many people..."
"Twenty three, as far as I know," Bruce interjected, his voice going slightly numb.
"Okay, and as far as I know,"Jason stressed, "they've all been bad guys. I'm not saying they deserved a bullet in the head, but I'm not stressing out over their being dead, either."
"Jason..."
"Sometimes the bad guys die. Cops sometimes kill bad guys."
"You can't compare Renegade to the police."
"I'm not. I'm just saying that death is sometimes the result of crime. There are actually heroes who've killed, too, y'know."
"I know," Bruce replied through tight lips. "It's not our way."
"I know that, too, Bruce, but if Dick is arrested, our identities are exposed along with his."
"Yes. Contingency plans are in place. New identities."
"I'm not ready to give up being Jason Todd!"
"We can't operate out of the shadows, Jason."
"Why not? Roy does. Dinah does. There are others who gave up on keeping the secrets and still function fine as heroes."
"I can't," Bruce finally ground out.
"Fine," Jason yelled in response.
"Does he have to be arrested?" Tim asked softly. "Can he make amends some other way? Can he simply live with what he did and try to be a hero again?"
Softening, Bruce slowly shook his head. "Tim..."
"How many of the deaths are linked by the police to Renegade? Just a few, and no one knows who Renegade is. If he stops, if Renegade drops off the map, if Dick comes home..." Tears glistened in Tim's eyes when he finally looked up from his plate and faced his father. "Can you forgive him, Bruce? Not Batman, but you?"
"I don't know," Bruce honestly answered.
"He needs help. Whatever brought him back, twisted him. I have to believe that. He's so angry and frustrated and he blames you for everything, and that just isn't right. Last night...last night I saw a glimpse of Robin in him, the Robin I first saw flying over the rooftops with a smile lighting the night. You remember that Robin, right?"
"I mourned his death, Tim. I still do. He's gone. What came back isn't him."
"But it is." Tim's voice raised and his hand clenched around the newspaper he still held. "I see it. Alfred sees it. It's there. He's there. Why can't you see him?"
When Bruce only gave him a deeply troubled look but didn't answer, Jason said softly, "Because the world is black and white to him."
"No, Jason, you've got it all wrong," Tim argued. "To Bruce the world is always gray, and he doesn't want it to be. It's a world where Renegade fits too easily and he doesn't like that."
Without another word, Bruce rose from the table and left the room.
"Good going, Timmy."
"Shit."
*****
Despite the tension in the manor, the unresolved issues, and the unwanted psychoanalysis, tea was always served on Sunday at four in the afternoon. The three members of the family all entered the sitting room a bit hesitantly and sat in uncomfortable silence until Alfred wheeled in the tea trolley loaded with cakes, cookies, sandwiches, hors devours and, of course, tea. He left with simply a shake of his head, and as Bruce rose to pour the tea, the doorbell rang.
"Please let this be a band of roving minstrels," Jason mumbled, then hunched under the look that earned from his father.
"Or Jehovah's Witnesses," Tim added, reaching for a blueberry muffin and ducking his own head.
*****
Alfred opened the door and smiled. "You got my note."
"You placed it next to the cookies. It was impossible to miss." Standing on the doorstep of his old home in broad daylight, Dick tugged nervously at his jacket sleeve and wished he was anywhere else.
"Please come in, Master Dick. The family is in the sitting room. It has been a rather tension-filled day," he added as a warning, taking Dick's jacket before leading the way down the hall.
"Oh good. I'll just add to that, shall I?"
Opening the door to the sitting room, Alfred stepped aside to let Dick pass, and said a silent prayer before closing the four in.
*****
Mouth full of muffin, Tim stared at Dick and swallowed heavily. Jason nearly spilled his tea on his lap, and Bruce went still and tight, his eyes darkening.
Dick stuffed his hands in his pants' pockets and rocked on his feet. "Alfred invited me."
Finally, into the long silence that followed, the sound of china scraping on china was heard and the two seated brothers breathed sighs of relief as their father handed his eldest a cup of tea.
End Chapter 3
Author: Lara
Rating: light NC17
Word Count: 11,296 (yeah, you read that right--that would be the whole story)
Fandom: DC Comics
Summary: See the author's note at the end of the prologue as I don't want to give anything away.
Content: Angst, slash relationship and tiny bit of sex, probable squicky relationship, more angst, violence, language, and still more angst
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Disclaimer: Don't own DC; if I did, well, a whole hell of a lot of people wouldn't be dead. Also, Slade, who isn't in this fic, would never be so stupidly black and white.
Distribution: My site eventually; all others, please ask.
A/N: Written for the wtf27 prompt #17, Trading Places.
No one ran into Renegade that night or for the next seven. Gotham continued to be Gotham--dark and hot as May gave way to June--and the crazies and the villains kept the Bat Clan busy.
Eight nights after the truth came out, Robin landed lightly on a rooftop across from the Museum of Science and Technology and walked to the edge to peer down at the street. Frowning, he lifted his wrist communicator to his mouth. "O? R. There's nobody here."
He could almost hear the tapping of keys and the roll of the chair between monitors. "All intel says a hit on the MST is in progress from the south front." A few seconds passed. "But, the cameras from the ATM across the street show nothing. This is weird."
"Night off?" Robin asked, smiling slightly.
"Yeah, right, Boy Wonder," Barbara scoffed. "Take a few minutes break there while I look into this mystery. O, out."
The communicator clicked off and Robin lowered his hands to the balustrade running around the roof. "Weird is right."
"Maybe I just wanted you where I could find you."
The familiar voice made him turn, bo staff extending as he easily fell into a fighting stance.
From six feet away Renegade raised his hands and smirked at him. "Easy there, kid. I didn't come here to fight."
Robin didn't relax. "You've been laying low."
"Been thinking."
"Plotting more crime sprees?"
"No, thinking."
Robin raised his wrist to his mouth again. "I'm not supposed to engage you."
"Darn, and I so wanted to marry you." Renegade rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't call it in."
"I...have to. He knows everything already and I promised I would."
Surprise leaked into Renegade's voice. "You told him?"
"He figured it out," Robin replied miserably. "Look, it's bad enough that he knows. I can't disobey him on this."
Taking a step forward the older man held out one hand and softly said,"Tim, stop."
Slowly Robin lowered his wrist and then his eyes, shaking his head. "What do you want?"
"Just to talk, I swear."
"I can give you maybe five minutes. Oracle told me to take a break while she worked on something."
"Okay, I can work with that." Nodding to himself, Renegade pointed to the staff. "Wanna put that away?"
"...No."
"I guess I deserve that." Renegade took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, then let them sag again as he grunted, "To hell with it," and bridged the distance between them to grab Tim and kiss him hard and hungrily.
Tim dropped the staff, diving into the kiss for a minute, before remembering where he was and with whom, and pushing the other man back. "What the hell?"
It was Dick who gave him a cocky grin. "Alfred dropped by. Told me to get my shit together. Well, not in those words, of course, though he did actually say 'bullshit'. I nearly died."
"...Huh?"
The grin dropped away and Dick peeled off his mask, fiddling with it for a moment. "I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive Bruce, or even talk to him, but..." He looked at Tim. "Will you take off your mask? I've never seen your eyes."
He shouldn't. He wasn't allowed, but...Slowly Tim removed his mask and stuffed it into its pouch. When Dick's hands found his shoulders and slid beneath the cape around to his back to reel him closer, Tim let him. Their eyes met, both a startling blue, and Tim felt his heart thud painfully in his chest.
"It's not all about hurting Bruce, kid," Dick said softly, his fingers stroking lightly over taut muscles. "Not anymore." And then his mouth was on Tim's again, this time the kiss more gentle, tender, until Tim became the aggressor, pushing Dick back until he hit the roof-access door with a grunt. Their mouths twisted together, their hands ran over spandex and armor clad torsos, and passion sprang hard between them.
Until Oracle spoke cool and fast in Robin's ear. "Batman's ten sec..."
"Here," Batman said, interrupting Oracle's warning and the two men kissing.
Extreme embarrassment wiped out all desire and Tim jerked away from Dick, stumbling backwards and wiping at his swollen lips.
"Shit," Dick groaned, then glared at the looming Bat who stood to the side of the other two, the three of them forming a loose triangle. "Coitus interruptus."
"Shut up,"Tim hissed, then flinched away from the look Batman turned on him, even from beneath the cowl.
"Put your mask back on," Batman ordered tightly.
"Go away," Renegade interjected, his voice just as cold. "I'm not hurting the kid."
"You never will again." Without looking at him, Batman addressed his youngest, "We talked about this, Robin. I trusted you."
"Quit laying the shitty guilt trip on him. You're pissed at me, not him, so take it out on me."
Batman responded to the angry yelling by lowering his voice to that cold, mean and determined register that sent shudders through every Gotham criminal. "What you have with Robin is over, Renegade, and you're going to prison."
"You'd never risk it. My identity gets out and yours follows," Renegade bluffed.
"You've murdered people in my city. You have to pay for those crimes. If my secrets are the price I pay, so be it."
"You're bluffing."
"I don't bluff."
Both men stared at each other until Renegade began to pale and his mouth dropped open, only to tighten quickly, his jaw squaring as determination took the place of shock. "I won't let you take me in. You'll have to kill me."
"You're already dead."
The devastated look was brief, but Tim saw it on Dick's face and it tore at him enough to shake him from his paralysis and move him between the older two. "Stop it." Still maskless he looked up at Bruce, then over at Dick, and shook his head. "Stop it."
"Robin," Batman ground out, "Go home."
"Tim," Dick said softly, his voice suddenly tired, "Stay."
Alerted to the crisis by Oracle, Nightwing dropped lightly to the roof and crossed to the trio, taking his place at Batman's side, his eyes taking in everything. He could tell the tension was about to snap. "Everyone calm down."
Everyone ignored him.
Tim looked from father to lover and back again, then turned to face Batman. "Please let me talk to him alone."
"You weren't talking."
Flushing, Tim tried again, "Please."
"...Mask. On."
This time Tim obeyed and Batman nodded, "Five minutes," before shooting a grapple line to the museum.
"You sure about this, Robin?" Nightwing's voice was low and concerned but the look he shot Renegade was a cold warning.
"Yeah."
"Okay." Trusting his little brother, Nightwing followed the Bat.
Tim's shoulders slumped and his legs gave out, sending him into a crouch, arms wrapping around his knees. "Shit, shit, shit!"
Dick dropped to one knee in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "See where talking to him gets me?"
"That wasn't talking and that was the Bat. You need to talk to Bruce. Come home and talk to him," Tim stressed, looking up into the tired eyes of Dick Grayson.
"I won't go to jail. I can't," the older man ground out.
"You've killed, Dick. You can't just get away with that." Sorrow filled Tim's voice and he reached up and wrapped his gloved fingers around the ones resting on his shoulder. "I don't know what we can do, but it has to start with talking."
"What you're really saying is that I have to stop killing. Maybe I'm not willing to do that," Renegade blustered harshly, pulling his hand free and rising to his feet.
Tim pushed himself back up, his legs a bit more steady, and shook his head, "If you're not, then we have to be over."
"Don't give me that ultimatum."
Trembling slightly at the snarl in his lover's voice, the younger man shot him a determined look. "How much more pain do you really want to cause him?"
Renegade opened his mouth to give his pat answer, then closed it, his eyes going shuttered. "What do you want from me, Tim?"
"You just said that this, whatever we have, isn't to hurt Bruce. So, that's one less thing, which means something is changing in you. Push it enough and stop killing, even if it's only long enough to really talk to him."
"I'm not ready to forgive him."
"I didn't say forgive him," Tim yelled softly, reaching out and grabbing Dick's arm. "Talk to him. Tell him what happened to you. We have theories upon theories, but what brought you back? What turned you hard? Why are you killing? Not just to piss off Bruce, but really why?"
Dick looked down into Tim's sparkling eyes and slowly shook his head in wonder. "Why does this matter so much to you?"
"Because he matters. Because you do. Because this is family, Dick, and we're tearing each other apart, and it has to stop. Because..." His hand slid up to Dick's shoulder then the back of his neck, and he pulled, and Dick went into the kiss with open eyes. "Please," Tim whispered against those firm lips, as they breathed the same breath.
Slowly Dick pulled away and began to nod. "Okay. But, not tonight." Turning, he sprinted to the far side of the building and dove off.
As he struggled to bring his breathing and heart rate under control, Tim watched him go until his father's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You let him go."
"I'm not arresting him. I can't." Both knew it had nothing to do with Robin physically being unable to bring down Renegade.
"Nightwing and I will finish your patrol. Go home." Bruce's concern shown through the Bat's voice, and Robin turned to give him a nod of gratitude, then followed Renegade over the back of the building.
"This has gotta end," Nightwing said softly. "It's tearing him to pieces."
"I just...don't want it to end badly," Bruce admitted. At Jason's surprised look, he let his lips twist slightly. "It's such a surprise that I don't want him hurt?"
"The mission always comes first."
"That's what I've always said." He shrugged his shoulders and grunted. "He's part of the mission, though. They...both are, and maybe...they're more than the mission."
"Did you wander into any funny plants tonight?"
Batman actually smiled at that--a very brief, tight smile--then he clapped Nightwing on the shoulder and took out his grapple hook. "You take south of Dunbar and the zoo. I'll wrap up the west side and drop by the Iceberg Lounge. Meet you at base in ninety."
"Sure." Nightwing watched him leave, then shook himself and tapped his earpiece. "Did you get all that?"
"Maybe he's human after all?" Barbara said, a smile in her voice.
"Who'd have thunk it."
*****
Renegade slipped through the window into his apartment and nearly fell over in shock when a light came on. A gun was in his hand and pointed before he processed who sat in his frayed Barcalounger.
"Put that away, young man."
Flushing, Dick holstered the gun, then peeled off his mask and dropped tiredly onto his sofa. He noticed his new tea service was being used and grunted.
Alfred rose to pour, then handed Dick a cup and saucer. "This is acceptable."
Picking up a white chocolate chip cookie, the younger man munched hungrily. "Nobody beats your cookies, Alf."
Resuming his seat, back straight and feet firmly on the floor, Alfred took a sip of Earl Grey tea. "It is also acceptable that you listened to me and didn't cause any more pain to Master Tim."
"I'm not sure about that," Dick sighed and finished his cookie, before looking guiltily at his surrogate grandfather. "Bruce is pissed at him."
"He is not, actually."
"How do you know?"
"Oracle keeps me well informed."
"Nosy cow," Dick grunted again, staring into his cup, then leaning forward to place it on the table and his elbows on his knees. "I...don't know what to do."
At the longing in the young man's voice, Alfred set his own cup down, then rose to join Dick on the sofa and lightly pat his shoulder. "Yes, you do, my boy. You really do. Something went wrong inside you. The miracle of your return turned into something dark, but there's too much light in you for the darkness to win."
Dick turned stricken eyes on him. "He...he says I have to go to jail."
"Maybe you will, but we'll be there for you. Regardless of what you do, family shouldn't abandon you and this one won't. I won't let it." His hand tightened on the muscular shoulder and he held the other man's eyes with his own sincere yet serious ones. "But, first, you have to stop, and you have to feel remorse."
"I...don't know if I can. There's all this anger and frustration inside me and it just boils over, Alfred, and I want to just scream and tear everything to pieces, and it's easier to hit the streets and take it all out on someone who deserves it."
"There are other ways to channel aggression."
"I was taught to hit people."
"You weren't taught to kill."
Dick had the grace to look embarrassed and pulled away from Alfred to lean against the back of the sofa and stare at the water-stained ceiling. "I'm just so tired, Alfie."
The voice of a scared little boy nearly broke the older man, who wrapped his arms around the younger and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Oh, my dear, dear boy. We'll fix this the best we can, I promise." Fingers twisting through tangled black hair, he tugged that stricken face to his shoulder and closed his eyes as Dick began to cry.
*****
After cleaning up and logging his reports, then reading Jason's and making a few notes to discuss at breakfast, Bruce ascended the stairs from the cave and walked through the silent house. Jason had arrived home shortly before he had and had gone up while he'd showered. The security system showed Tim was in his room, and Bruce knew to let him be for the night. Bruce hadn't noticed Alfred's location, expecting him to be waiting for him in the kitchen or his bedroom.
He wasn't in either place.
Frowning, Bruce picked up the communicator next to his bed and called Oracle.
"What? I'm in bed," Barbara growled sleepily.
"Where's Alfred?"
"Um..."
"Barbara."
"Don't go Bat on me," she replied defensively. "I told him what happened tonight and he went over to Renegade's." They all knew just where the fallen Robin lived, though they never talked about it.
"Dammit."
"He's not going to hurt Alfred."
"We don't know what Renegade will do," Batman ground out.
"It's not the first time he's gone there, Bruce." She stressed his real name to try to calm him down. "You know he can take care of himself."
"There are too many damn secrets in this family."
As he hung up on her, Barbara snorted at the irony of that statement.
*****
Dick awoke to a feeling of warmth and security and an odd rejuvenation. Blinking open his eyes, he noticed the quilt tucked around him where he lay on the couch, and stretching he realized his boots and jacket had been removed.
Alfred had tucked him in.
Blushing, the big, tough vigilante sat up and reached for another cookie, stuffing it in his mouth before noticing the note that sat next to the plate. He flipped it open and silently read it.
Sunday tea at the manor.
Not a demand, not a command performance, but a request.
A plea from his grandfather.
The rejuvenation he felt was joined by a new resolve, and he nodded to himself before reaching for another cookie.
*****
"How many times have you been to see him?"
Alfred finished pouring the coffee, then set down the silver coffee pot. "Twice."
"He's dangerous," Bruce growled, slapping down the front section of the Daily Planet next to his plate of whole-wheat pancakes topped with fresh strawberries.
"Not to me. I believe, in fact, he's more of a danger to himself than to any of us."
"You saw Tim's face last week."
Alfred's voice tightened, and he glanced at the other end of the table where the boys had their faces buried in the sports' section--Jason--and the technology section--Tim--while shoveling food in their mouths and trying very hard not to listen. "That is a thing of the past. Master Dick understands the cost of fresh bruises on the young sir."
"Oh geez," Tim muttered, nearly choking on a piece of sausage in his desire to eat as fast as humanly possible.
"You can't trust him,"Bruce growled again, frustrated that everyone in his family seemed to be trying to understand and accept Renegade.
"I trust the boy we raised," Alfred said with finality before leaving the dining room and Bruce shaking his head.
"He needs to be arrested and pay for his crimes."
Frowning at Bruce's muttering, Jason set aside the newspaper and looked up at his father. "Y'know, that would sound more convincing if you didn't actually know where he lived and didn't know how to dial a phone."
Bruce glared at his middle son. "You're defending him now?"
"No, I'm just pointing out the obvious. If you really wanted him arrested, he'd be arrested. Now, I don't know why you haven't done that, but it's probably some big confusing mess of reasons along the lines of son, Robin, secret identities, guilt, repentance and relief. The Bat wants him to pay for his crimes, and, y'know, I do understand that. He's killed I don't know how many people..."
"Twenty three, as far as I know," Bruce interjected, his voice going slightly numb.
"Okay, and as far as I know,"Jason stressed, "they've all been bad guys. I'm not saying they deserved a bullet in the head, but I'm not stressing out over their being dead, either."
"Jason..."
"Sometimes the bad guys die. Cops sometimes kill bad guys."
"You can't compare Renegade to the police."
"I'm not. I'm just saying that death is sometimes the result of crime. There are actually heroes who've killed, too, y'know."
"I know," Bruce replied through tight lips. "It's not our way."
"I know that, too, Bruce, but if Dick is arrested, our identities are exposed along with his."
"Yes. Contingency plans are in place. New identities."
"I'm not ready to give up being Jason Todd!"
"We can't operate out of the shadows, Jason."
"Why not? Roy does. Dinah does. There are others who gave up on keeping the secrets and still function fine as heroes."
"I can't," Bruce finally ground out.
"Fine," Jason yelled in response.
"Does he have to be arrested?" Tim asked softly. "Can he make amends some other way? Can he simply live with what he did and try to be a hero again?"
Softening, Bruce slowly shook his head. "Tim..."
"How many of the deaths are linked by the police to Renegade? Just a few, and no one knows who Renegade is. If he stops, if Renegade drops off the map, if Dick comes home..." Tears glistened in Tim's eyes when he finally looked up from his plate and faced his father. "Can you forgive him, Bruce? Not Batman, but you?"
"I don't know," Bruce honestly answered.
"He needs help. Whatever brought him back, twisted him. I have to believe that. He's so angry and frustrated and he blames you for everything, and that just isn't right. Last night...last night I saw a glimpse of Robin in him, the Robin I first saw flying over the rooftops with a smile lighting the night. You remember that Robin, right?"
"I mourned his death, Tim. I still do. He's gone. What came back isn't him."
"But it is." Tim's voice raised and his hand clenched around the newspaper he still held. "I see it. Alfred sees it. It's there. He's there. Why can't you see him?"
When Bruce only gave him a deeply troubled look but didn't answer, Jason said softly, "Because the world is black and white to him."
"No, Jason, you've got it all wrong," Tim argued. "To Bruce the world is always gray, and he doesn't want it to be. It's a world where Renegade fits too easily and he doesn't like that."
Without another word, Bruce rose from the table and left the room.
"Good going, Timmy."
"Shit."
*****
Despite the tension in the manor, the unresolved issues, and the unwanted psychoanalysis, tea was always served on Sunday at four in the afternoon. The three members of the family all entered the sitting room a bit hesitantly and sat in uncomfortable silence until Alfred wheeled in the tea trolley loaded with cakes, cookies, sandwiches, hors devours and, of course, tea. He left with simply a shake of his head, and as Bruce rose to pour the tea, the doorbell rang.
"Please let this be a band of roving minstrels," Jason mumbled, then hunched under the look that earned from his father.
"Or Jehovah's Witnesses," Tim added, reaching for a blueberry muffin and ducking his own head.
*****
Alfred opened the door and smiled. "You got my note."
"You placed it next to the cookies. It was impossible to miss." Standing on the doorstep of his old home in broad daylight, Dick tugged nervously at his jacket sleeve and wished he was anywhere else.
"Please come in, Master Dick. The family is in the sitting room. It has been a rather tension-filled day," he added as a warning, taking Dick's jacket before leading the way down the hall.
"Oh good. I'll just add to that, shall I?"
Opening the door to the sitting room, Alfred stepped aside to let Dick pass, and said a silent prayer before closing the four in.
*****
Mouth full of muffin, Tim stared at Dick and swallowed heavily. Jason nearly spilled his tea on his lap, and Bruce went still and tight, his eyes darkening.
Dick stuffed his hands in his pants' pockets and rocked on his feet. "Alfred invited me."
Finally, into the long silence that followed, the sound of china scraping on china was heard and the two seated brothers breathed sighs of relief as their father handed his eldest a cup of tea.
End Chapter 3