Batfic: The Way Back 2/? (PG-13)
For the Prologue, click HERE!
For Chapter One, click HERE
Summary: Bruce tries to reconcile himself to the new changes in his life. Dick confronts Ollie over his past behavior.
Note: This is a sequel to Locked Inside the Facade and Lost to the Night (click the tags for the earlier parts).
Words: 6568
How long does it take
How long will it last
Till it feels like my whole world's not torn in half
If [I] remember what [I was]
Remember what [I] had
It won't be that hard to get it back
Amanda Wilkinson, Steve Wilkinson and Shaye Smith, "The Art of Letting Go"
A/N: Thanks to Debbie and Kathy for the beta! Thanks to Sara for being a sounding board!
A/N: Doctor Doom appeared in Detective Comics 158, "The Thousand and One Trophies of Batman". This is not the Marvel character. Diamond appeared in Detective Comics 186, "The Flying Batcave". Thomas Wayne's Batman costume is from Detective Comics 235, "The First Batman". Moon rocks are from Bizarro Comics 2001, "Inside the Batcave".
A/N: "The Art of Letting Go" written by Amanda Wilkinson, Steve Wilkinson and Shaye Smith. Recorded by Amanda Wilkinson on her Amanda Wilkinson CD (Kiayasongs/EMI, 2005)
Chapter 2: Torn In Half
When Jim woke up the next morning, he still wasn't sure how well the previous night had gone. True, Bruce hadn't lost his temper, tried to order him off the property, or threatened to contest the lease agreement. But to say that Bruce had been delighted by the turn of events was pushing things. Bruce disliked being manipulated, and he didn't always take kindly to the assistance of others. No, Jim reflected, this could go either way. And should Bruce opt to ignore his new tenant, Jim admitted to himself that it would be difficult for him to keep his word not to interfere.
The former police commissioner sighed. Bruce knew where things stood now; the next step was up to him. Meanwhile, Jim thought as he stood up, he wasn't going to sit around all day waiting for a knock on the door. He reached for his cane. It was a beautiful day for a walk around the grounds.
He was pleasantly surprised to see Bruce coming up the walk as he opened the front door. The younger man seemed more apprehensive than he had been the night before. Interesting--especially when one considered that, last night, Bruce hadn't had any idea whom he would encounter. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising. Batman kept his friends at arm's length. When it came to his enemies? That was when he got up close and personal.
Jim took a deep breath. "Good morning, Bruce."
Bruce didn't respond immediately. He just stopped, roughly three feet away, and stood silently.
Jim waited. "Is there... something I can help you with?"
Bruce nodded. "Living here," he said hesitantly, "is your idea, correct? There was no... You weren't... pressured?"
"Just the opposite," Jim smiled. "I had to do some pretty fast talking to convince Dick."
Bruce closed his eyes and nodded again. When he opened them once more, Jim could see a resolution that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Alright," he said firmly. He reached into his pocket. "This is the key to the patio door. This one is for the kitchen. I've reset the front door code to Barbara's birthday--month first, and then day." He took a deep breath. "I do think that this is unnecessary. But, if I'm wrong, then it would be... foolish for you not to have access to the house if there was a situation where your presence might be..."
"Appreciated?" Jim asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Required." Seeing Jim's frown, Bruce clarified. "I do appreciate your being here."
"Even though it's not needed?"
Bruce started to respond before he registered the teasing note in his old friend's voice. He turned away, though not before his lips pulled into a cautious smile. "I suppose," he ventured, "it would be helpful if I were to give you a tour of the estate. The manor, in particular, can be confusing at times."
Jim nodded to himself, satisfied. He took a few steps forward. "Lead on."
"We should start with the house," Bruce said, as he slid open the patio doors. "It's heading into the hottest part of the day, so it's better to be indoors."
Jim followed him inside. "That's fine," he rumbled. "Whichever you'd prefer."
"You'll have to tell me if I'm walking too fast," Bruce added. "Alfred usually does--did--this kind of thing." He shied away as Jim tried to put a hand on his shoulder. "It would be better if you avoided that," he said flatly. "I need to deal with things on my own."
Jim stifled a retort. "Okay."
Bruce was already moving. "I know you've seen the study," he said. "We'll skip it for now. The dining room is this way. Through here is the kitchen." He paused. "That path you can see out the window runs past the side of your cottage. If you follow it further, it will lead you to the kitchen gardens. I haven't looked in on those yet," he added, "but if you wanted to... I remember during the No Man's Land that you grew some vegetables."
"I might just take you up on that offer," Jim said, "even if it's a bit late in the year to start planting. I may need a bit of help at the outset, though. My back," he added apologetically, "isn't what it was."
Bruce smiled. "That can be arranged." He opened up another door to reveal a flight of stairs. "It's mostly storage down here. Wine cellars, meat freezers," he stopped, embarrassed. "I probably haven't been down there since I was a child," he admitted.
"Ah," Jim said sagely. "So that isn't the access to that cave I've heard Dick mention a few times." His lips twitched.
Bruce blinked. "No." He took a deep breath. "I can show you where that is, if you'd like."
Jim raised an eyebrow. Bruce's tone was almost nonchalant, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. "Well," Jim admitted, "I am curious. I won't deny that. But I wouldn't want to intrude if..."
"No," Bruce interrupted. "It's fine. I... if you choose to come over here, that's probably the first place you should look." He smiled guardedly. "Actually, I think I'd rather you did see it."
"Ah." Without another word, Jim followed him to the study and watched as Bruce turned the hands on the grandfather clock to 8:25. He held an appreciative silence as Bruce led him down a flight of stairs, and showed him the hangars for the 'copter and plane. Then they took the elevator down one level to the trophy room.
"I remember that one," he said softly, as his gaze fell on an Egyptian sarcophagus. "Doctor Doom?"
Bruce nodded. "That was how many years ago?"
"Too many," Jim said. "Now what in the...?" He chuckled softly. "'Parachutes used to escape from Bat-Cave', eh?" he said, indicating the sign. "Don't tell me. That was when Diamond blackmailed you into not setting foot in Gotham for a week..."
"I kept my end of the bargain," Bruce pointed out, "even if it did require a certain amount of improvisation to do it."
"A flying cave?"
Bruce released an exaggerated sigh. "Technically it was a state-of-the-art lab in a hovercraft. Dick had another name for it."
"And he made the sign, I take it?"
Bruce didn't reply, but a small smile played on his lips. "I think that this suit might have been my original inspiration," he said, pointing to a glass display case. "Although I'd forgotten about it until years later, when it turned up in a trunk in the attic. My father wore it to a costume party one night."
Jim nodded. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm honored that you're showing me... this."
Bruce shook his head. "If you're willing to become part of... all of this, I've no objections," he said. "Quite the contrary, in fact." He met Jim's gaze cautiously. This time, he didn't flinch when the older man placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "There's a bit more to see," Bruce said, walking forward briskly. His tension was gone. "These moon rocks..."
"So, that's how it stands," Dick said. "We know that the Ghost Dragons are involved in diamond smuggling. My first thought was conflict diamonds, but so far, there's been nothing to link the 'Dragons with UNITA or any of the other insurgency movements that we typically hear about in connection with that kind of thing."
"Yakuza?" Black Canary asked.
"Maybe," Dick frowned. "But the 'Dragons originate from Hong Kong, not Japan. That usually means the Triads. Now, if they're converting their cash assets to diamonds..."
Green Arrow nodded. "Money laundering concerns aside, stones are a better investment than cash, these days." He poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against the sofa cushions.
"Normally," Dick said, "I wouldn't be asking this, but with Selina away and Roy on a League mission--"
Dinah shook her head. "No problem. I'm the one who sent him on that mission. We're here."
"Talk to Batgirl," Dick said seriously. "She fought them last night. I've heard her report, but she might have some other details."
"We will. Is Babs upstairs? I just want to say, 'hi'."
Dick nodded. "She's been up there all afternoon."
"I'll wait down here," Ollie said. "Hurry back, Pretty Bird."
Once Dinah left, Ollie took a deep breath. "How's Bruce doing?"
Dick started to collect the empty cake plates. "Do you really care?" He asked quietly.
The archer's face reddened, though it was hard to tell whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Dick stacked the Corelle plates noisily, one atop the other. Then he reached for the cutlery and slammed each piece, one at a time, on the topmost plate. "I'm curious, Oliver." He carried the plates into the kitchen and dropped them into the sink with a clatter. "You were aware of what happened. I know for a fact that Roy told you about it within a week of the arrest. And in all this time, you haven't set foot in Gotham. You haven't asked after him. Now that he's out, you're suddenly Mr. Concerned?"
Ollie's expression hardened. "I don't think I care for your tone, Dick. Let me ask you, do you honestly believe he would have wanted me to see him like that?"
"No," Dick admitted. "He wouldn't have. And you wouldn't have gotten in anyway. I'm not really upset that you didn't try. But in two years, this is the first time you've ever shown an interest."
"This may come as a shock to you," Ollie drawled, "but I do talk to Roy and Dinah on occasion. They gave me updates. You and I both know that he wouldn't have liked the idea of me encroaching on his turf after..." his voice trailed off. "Well... you know why he quit the League."
"Yeah," Dick snarled. "Because the people he thought he could count on turned around and stabbed him in the back. Tell, me Ollie: did it get any easier the second time?"
Oliver Queen's mouth dropped open. "Why, you little punk..." he said softly, but with venom. He lunged forward, fist upraised.
Dick was ready for him. The next thing Ollie knew, he was on the floor, and Dick was twisting his arms behind his back.
"You care to try that again?" he asked. "C'mon, Ollie. Anytime you want to. It won't change the fact that when people need you, you either shove them away or you cut and run."
"Look who's talking!" Ollie snapped. "Listen, 'Pot'! You want to say Bruce needed you? Fine. Dandy! But while you were being a good little boy and protecting Gotham, the rest of us were trying to save the damned universe!" He struggled to break loose, but Dick's hold was firm. "Everyone knows you're one of the best people to have on hand in a crisis. If Bruce couldn't be there, you were our next best hope." He twisted his head back as far as he was able, and glared at his captor. "Well, this time, you weren't around, and it cost Kon his life. I almost lost Roy and Mia--would have, if Dinah hadn't gotten there in time to shriek Alexander Luthor's blaster to high-tech shards. As it was, they were both in ICU for weeks. Maybe if you'd bothered to show up, you would've concocted a better plan, but you didn't. So we did what we could." What his voice lost in volume, it made up for in coldness. "And I almost watched two of the people I care for the most die in front of me. And you know something, Dick? That kind of risk comes with the territory. So do sacrifices for the greater good. Which don't include you bat-brats wimping out and staying in your own little corner of the globe. And Bruce would have told you the same thing!"
"Yeah? Well with Bruce, it wasn't almost! You know something, Ollie?" Abruptly, Dick released him. "You pegged it." He gave a quick, bitter laugh. "That's exactly what Bruce would've told me. But here's the thing. If I'd been in the kind of bind he was in, he would've dropped everything and stood by me. Which is more than you did for him, when you could've spoken out at the Watchtower after what happened with Dr. Light. Not to mention," he added acidly, "it's more than you ever did for Roy when he needed you."
Ollie stood up, rubbing his wrists. "Is that so? Well, if you and Bruce were Opie and Andy, then where was Daddy of the Year when Joker shot you? Or when your wedding to Starfire turned out to be a real blast? How about after you joined the mob, Renegade?" He blocked Dick's swing and countered with one of his own. Dick grabbed his wrist. The two men glowered at each other. "Stop acting so self-righteous, Richard. Or should I say, 'Dick'? People screw up. You. Me. Him. If I had my life to live over, maybe I'd do a few things differently--but I don't. And if you're expecting me to start weeping and wailing about how horrible I was for not being there for you and yours, when you basically left us high and dry? It won't happen. I made my choices and I'll stand by them."
Dick shook his head. "You know what? You're right." He saw the fury in Ollie's eyes give way to shock. "You're right," he repeated with a slight smile. "You had to make a tough choice and you did. And maybe, if Bruce or I had been in your shoes, we would have even made the same one. But once the... crisis was over, we would have touched base to make sure that everything worked out; and if it hadn't... we would have been there. Even if it was too little, too late. We would have done something."
"Yeah? What?"
"I don't know," Dick admitted. "But I don't think it would have involved ignoring you for two years. And if I'm wrong, and it had, I do know this: we wouldn't have shrugged off your reproaches with a 'them's the breaks'. Seriously, Queen, that was cold." He shook his head. "I'm going up to check on Babs. Try to be gone when I get back."
He pulled the door open to reveal Dinah, her hand extended as though she was reaching for the knob.
"Is everything okay?" she asked uncertainly.
Oliver nodded. "We're fine. I was just waiting for you, Pretty Bird. Let's go get some air." He forced a smile. "Be seeing you, Dick."
"Later, Queen," Dick said, just as coolly. "Stay classy."
He waited until he knew that they were gone, and until he was sure that he had a handle on his temper. Then he went up to Barbara.
"They're off?" Barbara asked without turning around.
"Just a minute ago." He sighed. "Was it your idea to bring Ollie in?"
Barbara's ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head. "I called Dinah. She asked if he could tag along." She turned her chair slowly. "Seems like it's been hard for them to find time together, what with one or the other always running off to take care of business."
"Whoa." Dick held his hands up. "Was that a dig? It sounded like a dig." He flashed a smile. "I'm not in the doghouse again, am I?"
Barbara sighed. "Not you, no. I'm sorry. Just... you know I was supposed to meet Daddy for lunch." When Dick nodded, she shut her eyes, lifted her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "He didn't show up. After I'd been waiting nearly a half-hour, I called him. I thought..." She shook her head. "I know you weren't in Gotham when it happened. You probably heard anyhow, but just in case Bruce never told you... Daddy had a heart attack a few years ago. Call me an alarmist, but when I didn't hear from him, that was the first thing going through my mind." She opened her eyes. "He was down in the cave with Bruce. Perfectly fine. He'd just lost track of the time."
Dick pulled up a chair next to her. "Well, at least he was okay."
"I know. And this is why he's up in Bristol, anyway--so Bruce has someone." She sighed. "The lunch date just totally slipped his mind. I think he was more upset about it than I was. Compared to everything else we deal with in a typical week, a missed rendezvous isn't all that serious, but still... I don't see him that often. And," she waved a hand at the multiple visual arrays that surrounded her, "I can't always drop everything. That was supposed to be our time, damn it." She leaned forward as she felt Dick's hands lightly grip her upper arms. "I'm not really angry," she said, gazing down at her lap. "But I was looking forward to it."
"I understand."
She nodded. Then her eyes snapped up and bored, full-force, into his. "We're still on for tonight, right? Dinner, and then a stroll through the botanical gardens?"
Dick grinned. "You know it. Unless..." He frowned. "Pam's still in custody, right?"
Barbara rolled backward and, without looking, tapped a button on her console. She turned around. Dick heard her typing a short, quick staccato on the keyboard. "There's the visual," she said. "Doesn't look like Blackgate agrees with her," she added a trifle sadly. "At Arkham, they always let her keep one plant in the cell."
"Blackgate deals with the sane ones," Dick pointed out with a sigh. "Arkham's inmates spook them. The prison administration doesn't want trouble so they crack down on 'em harder. It stinks, but they're really not equipped to deal with her." He motioned to Barbara to kill the display. "I'm just glad Bruce isn't there, too."
"Uh-huh." Barbara was silent for a moment. "So," she said, facing him again, "I get you all to myself tonight."
Dick smiled. "That's what was on your mind," he said with a note of triumph.
"Well," she said, flushing, "after getting stood up by my own dad... I mean..." She took a deep breath. "I know that just because Bruce is out now, doesn't mean you're going to stop seeing him; but it's just..." She exhaled. "I don't want you to have to choose between Bruce and me," she began, "but by the same token, I don't want to worry that if you did have to choose..." She shook her head. "I'm being selfish, aren't I?"
"No," Dick said gently. "You're being honest. And you're right. The last two years haven't been easy for any of us." His expression turned serious. "I think we both know that Bruce is still going to be a major part of our lives."
"Well, of course," Barbara interrupted.
"But," Dick continued, "that doesn't mean that he's going to be running our lives. Right now, I'm playing things by ear, letting him settle in. If he calls and wants me to go over, assuming we don't already have plans, I will. Meanwhile, for the next little while, I'll use the phone. If he doesn't pick up... just do me a favor, and make sure your dad's seen him?" He grinned. "If Bruce isn't in the mood to talk, he'll usually let it go to voicemail."
"And after 'the next little while'?"
"To be honest, I'm not thinking that far ahead at the moment. Probably, I'll stop by and see him before or after patrol. Or we'll both go up together and visit with your father, too. But my nights off?" He grinned. "You get first crack at them."
Barbara smiled back. A signal somewhere overhead started beeping. She sighed. "JSA. I really need to take this one."
"Go ahead," Dick said, as she turned back to the monitor array. "I'm going to get a workout in and shower before we head out. See you downstairs."
"A kid?" Dinah asked, incredulous.
Cassandra nodded. "Voice was... too light to be adult. The way the deck vibrated, I think he weighed maybe..." she frowned. "Less than I do. Maybe..." she crossed over to the rack where she kept her free weights. She lifted one ten-pound dumbbell. "Eight of these. Maybe nine. Not more. And I think," she raised her other hand to shoulder height and held it, palm downward, "this high."
"You said 'he'," Oliver pointed out. "If the voice was light, couldn't it have been a girl?"
"Maybe," Cassandra said. "But I don't think so."
"Mind clueing me in as to why?"
Cass lifted an eyebrow. "He came in, made a mess, and acted like I should be... pleased to clean up." She shrugged. "I... haven't met any women who would think that way."
Dinah burst out laughing. Ollie winced.
"Did you have any trouble getting here?" Alex asked the next day.
Bruce sat down on the couch with a sigh. "Not as such. Though my business with the DMV took longer than anticipated."
Alex smiled. "Those lines can be long, I know. Do you have to take the test over?"
"Had the license expired more than three years ago, it would be a requirement," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Thankfully, it's been under six months."
"And you're settling in alright?"
"Yes," Bruce stated quickly.
Alex took a deep breath. "Good." He leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Mr. Wayne," he began, "Bruce. Before we pick up from where we left off, there are a few formalities we need to take care of. I figured we'd spend this first session dealing with those, and then start fresh, next time." He waited for Bruce's acknowledgement. "For instance," he continued, "you do understand that going back to your home is a significant adjustment? Under normal circumstances, you would have transitioned to a halfway house first--"
"We've been over that before," Bruce interrupted. "The risk that my presence would pose to the other residents--not to mention to the staff--is unacceptable. At least, the manor security systems are properly equipped to deal with an intruder."
"I concur," Alex said calmly. "So did the judge. However, I have to say that I'm extremely concerned about your living essentially alone, on seven hundred fifty acres, give or take." When Bruce looked up, the psychiatrist shrugged. "I did my research. In any case, I can tell you now that safety concerns did have a role in securing your release when it did." His eyes crinkled at the corners, though his voice stayed serious. "Technically speaking, especially since you didn't go the halfway house route, you wouldn't have been able to leave the Saint Swithins Psych ward until we could locate a suitable companion."
"Companion." Bruce's brow furrowed. "You mean... a nurse?"
"In most circumstances, yes," Alex nodded. "Everything would have had to have been arranged prior to your release, or there might well have been no release. However, in your specific case, the judge had to consider both your security, and that of the hospital. The Saint Swithins administration did voice their concerns about your presence. I can tell you that now." He smiled. "Also, you have an aggressive lawyer in your court. That helped. However, even though ideally, prior to the hearing the Gotham Mental Health Authority should have made arrangements for a live-in companion to be assigned to you, well, bureaucracy being what it is --"
Bruce took a deep breath. He knew that one of the terms of his release was compliance with Alex's instructions, but surely... "I'd prefer not to deal with outsiders. Is there no way to avoid it?" That was all he needed: one more interfering interloper. It wasn't so much that he craved isolation--far from it--but he valued his privacy. He didn't want a stranger dogging his heels, and he definitely didn't want to allow said stranger access to the areas of the manor where he felt most at ease. Inviting Jim into his world was one thing, but... but... there was an idea... "Does the companion need to be an outsider?" he asked.
Alex thought for a moment. "Not really. It needs to be someone acceptable to the GMHA, of course. And it would have to be someone able to be with you twenty-four-seven, for a period of sixty to ninety days. Usually, that would mean a trained nurse, but it's not essential."
Bruce breathed in again. "Could it mean a retired police commissioner?"
Alex smiled. "I think we can explore that possibility." He thought for a moment. "Before we meet again, next week, discuss it with him." He rummaged in his desk and pulled out a thin booklet. "Make sure that he reads this over carefully. It outlines the eligibility criteria, duties, and responsibilities. If he qualifies, and if he's willing, I'll need to set up an interview and arrange the necessary approvals, but I don't perceive a problem. If he isn't willing, then we will need to explore other avenues."
Bruce nodded.
"Okay. We'll consider that subject conditionally resolved. The next thing I need to bring up with you isn't a requirement, so much as a strong recommendation. It's proven therapeutic for many people in your circumstances and I would encourage you to consider..."
"Fish?" Dick wasn't sure that he was hearing correctly. "He wants you to keep fish?"
Bruce sighed. "If this conversation is meant to encourage me to maintain open lines of communication, it's failing miserably," he stated dryly.
"Sorry," Dick said, instantly contrite. "Still..." He broke off, hearing Bruce's irritation, loud and clear, through the telephone. "Okay, so... fish. Well, at least none of our... friends-at-large has any affinity for using them as an MO. Not like birds, or rats, or plants... or mustard."
"Dick," Bruce's voice was pained, "I'd like to believe that even in my current state, I could handle Condiment King!"
"I don't doubt it," Dick said hastily. "Did Alex make any suggestion on what kind you should get?"
"Beyond starting with a lower-maintenance variety, no. Jim vetoed piranha, however."
"Ah. Well, maybe he'll come around. One of my friends in college kept a couple in his room. One or two can't really do that much damage--it's when you've got a whole school of," he listened for a moment. "Okay... um... yeah, putting fifty of them in the swimming pool might be going a little overboard. Well, for starters, are you sure you can get every trace of chlorine out of the pool tiles? Not to mention that fish sometimes jump... and, well, that would cause splashing. Which would make the area around the pool a bit slippery and, you know what? Start with the aquarium. Maybe give Orin a call--he might have some ideas. Okay, it was just a suggestion." He sighed. "Fine, consider it dropped. What else is doing?"
Bruce ignored the question. "Are you working tonight?"
"Yep. Got a practice spar with Cass in about an hour and then, I'm suiting up."
"Ah." Bruce thought for a moment. "Which... suit?" He heard Dick exhale on the other end of the line. "It doesn't disturb me that you've taken to wearing the cowl," he said softly. "You might find it gives you a certain advantage with the criminal element."
"I know," Dick admitted. "But it gives me a certain disadvantage dealing with the GCPD."
For a moment, Bruce frowned in confusion. Then, "Which one of us has the greater disadvantage if you wear the suit?"
Silence.
"I see," Bruce said after a moment. "Alright. Nightwing patrols tonight. Tomorrow, however, I want you to wear the other suit. Call me before you head downstairs to change, and leave the rest to me."
"Okay," Dick said dubiously. "But you know that if they do send a car up to the manor and you're not there, it's only going to make them more--"
"Dick!" Bruce said sharply. "I'm out of practice, not stupid. Trust me." He sighed. "I know what I'm doing."
This time, the pause seemed to go on longer than it actually did. "I do trust you," Dick said finally. "I always have. Just..." he caught himself. "Nothing. I'll call you tomorrow."
When Dick phoned the following night, Bruce was ready. "It'll be dark in an hour. In seventy-five minutes, I want you in the vicinity of GCPD headquarters. Do not approach unless the signal goes up, but make sure you're spotted. I'll handle the rest." He hung up before Dick could respond.
"Want some company?" Jim asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Not this time." He hesitated. "Thanks for calling Alex. You didn't ha--"
"Enough with the 'didn't have to' already!" Jim said irritably. "If your doctor thinks this is necessary, and you'd prefer me over someone you don't know, I'm fine with it." He smiled then. "I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't suspected something like this might be needed when I suggested settling in here. I though maybe you'd find it easier to ask me if I was already on the grounds."
Bruce smiled back, but then a troubled look came into his eyes. "It's just... I'm not an easy person to know. I hope you won't regret this."
Jim chuckled. "I've regretted a few things before. I doubt one more is really going to make that big of a difference. Anyway, you're not telling me anything I don't already know." He shook his head sadly. "I'm not sure how you missed the obvious clues, but I'm not perfect either. I can cope if you can."
Bruce smiled. "I believe I can manage that." Abruptly, he headed for the front door. "I need to get moving." As Jim started to say something, he held up one hand. "I know. Once the paperwork is approved, I'll... abide by the terms." He sighed. "If I'm supposed to have someone with me 'round the clock, then," his lips twitched. "I trust you'll be able to manage... completing your sentences?"
That prompted a genuine laugh. "Now that's something I'm looking forward to."
Bruce's smile grew wider, then fell away. "I'd just like one night out, by myself, before everything is finalized. Surely that's a reasonable request."
Jim put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. "Go on, then. Do what you need to. I'll see you later... or in the morning. Depending."
Bruce nodded and headed for the garage.
Nearly forty minutes later, he was walking through the front entrance of the central branch of the Gotham City Police Department. The building hadn't changed much, Bruce thought, as he walked through the lobby and approached the front desk.
"Would you please tell Renee Montoya that Bruce Wayne is here to see her?" He asked, making it sound as thought he was keeping an appointment.
The ruse worked. The receptionist made the call, and, a moment later, waved him to a seat. "She'll be with you in a minute."
It was closer to ten minutes before Captain Montoya came downstairs. "Ba--Mr. Wayne!" She greeted him warmly. "This is a surprise. I'm glad you stopped by." She extended her hand. As Bruce moved to shake it, she gave a self-conscious laugh and clapped him on the back with her other hand. "We can talk in my office," she said. "Follow me."
Upstairs, Bruce politely declined a cup of coffee. Renee shrugged and poured one for herself. "It really is good to see you. I'm sorry I couldn't make the hearing," she rolled her eyes. "Paperwork. I still can't believe how much more of it there is, these days."
Bruce nodded understanding. "You never told me you'd made captain. Congratulations."
She nodded. "I guess it just... never came up. So, what brings you out here?"
Bruce took a deep breath. "I wanted to thank you for your support," he said quietly. "It meant a lot. I wanted you to know."
Montoya tried to hide her surprise. "You're welcome," she managed. "You didn't have to come by in person, just to tell me that, you know. Not that I'm not happy to see you again, but..." Her eyes opened wide. "I... did you want to continue helping us with the cold case files? Or possibly, some of the ones that aren't so cold? Because we're frankly swamped, and I could use your expertise."
"I'd like that," Bruce admitted. "I'm still adjusting to my current situation, Captain, but perhaps in a week or so?"
"Whenever you're ready. And my name's Renee."
He nodded. "In that case, I'm Bruce."
She smiled. "I'll try to remember that, but it's going to take some getting used to."
"I understand."
There was a silence then, which stretched on. After more than a full minute had elapsed, Renee cleared her throat. "Was there anything else? Or can I see you to the lobby?"
Bruce shook his head. "Nothing else, but I can't leave just yet."
"I-I don't understand," Renee said with a frown.
Just then, the office door burst open. "I'm sorry, Captain," a young officer said, stepping in. "We've just spotted Batman in the vicinity, and I was wondering whether you wanted us to send a car out to Bristol, just to be sure that..." He stopped as Bruce twisted about in his chair to meet the policeman's eyes squarely. "Uh, never mind," the young man mumbled. "Sorry to have disturbed you. Have a good night, Mr. Wayne." He exited hastily.
Bruce rose to his feet. "Now, I can leave," he said, satisfied.
Renee winced. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Your people have to consider the possibility. However, my people need to operate under optimal conditions. That includes wearing the proper uniform." He waited for her to come around from behind her desk. "I'll make a point of stopping by around this time, for the next few nights. I don't believe it should be necessary after a week or so." He turned the doorknob.
Renee followed him out. "It's not fair."
Bruce smiled sadly. "After all the years you've lived here, Captain, do you honestly expect fairness? We'd like there to be. We try to operate as though there were, but we know better. Have a good night, Renee." He pressed the button to summon the elevator.
"Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce and Renee turned as one, as Commissioner Maggie Sawyer strode briskly toward them. "I didn't know you were in the neighborhood."
Bruce nodded. "I was just leaving."
"Ah," Sawyer nodded. "Then I won't keep you. However, I'd appreciate it if you'd give me a call sometime during the next week. There's something I'd like to go over with you at your convenience."
Bruce's eyes darted to Renee's, but she seemed as mystified as he was.
"I believe that I might be able to come by tomorrow evening, around nine," he considered. It would give him an excuse, as well as cement his alibi.
"Fine. I'll see you then." Her gaze moved on. "Captain, I'll need that report on my desk before you come off shift."
Renee nodded. "I think I mentioned the paperwork?" she commented ruefully to Bruce. To Sawyer, she said only, "I'll finish it up after I see Mr. Wayne downstairs."
The elevator came then, cutting the conversation short.
"So, what are we doing here, again?" Green Arrow asked, as Batman knelt on the pier, evidence kit in hand.
"Well, I'm looking for clues," Batman said, without turning toward his companion. "You're watching my back."
"About yesterday."
Dick sighed. "Ever since Arkham burned down, between patrol, Bruce's medical complications, the hearing, and..." He let his voice trail off. "I've been on a short fuse," he continued evenly. "You lit it."
The archer grunted in acknowledgement. "I've been told I'm good at that. Next time, just let me know when you're looking for a target. I'll set up a bulls-eye and we can take turns firing trick arrows."
Batman glanced up. Ollie was smiling. After a moment, the younger man turned back to his task. "Thanks."
"So. Turn anything up?"
Dick shook his head. "No, and it bothers me. Not so much about the diamonds--I wasn't expecting anything new on that front. The kid."
"We didn't see him, last night," Ollie rumbled. "And I think Batgirl may have spooked the 'Dragons."
"Maybe, but they'll have to make a move sooner or later," Batman said as he ran a scanner over the pier. "Either they'll try to unload the diamonds they got away with the other night, or they'll have to meet a new shipment. Probably both. Damn!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Or at least..." He looked up. "Cass had the presence of mind to take photographs of the area where the kid showed up. We have two clear footprints and... nothing."
Green Arrow frowned. "Nothing? Meaning, what?"
Batman sighed. "Meaning that whoever the person is, he didn't approach. There are no tracks leading to or from the site. Now, according to the pictures, there were a bunch of crates stacked over there," he pointed to a section of the dock that was presently vacant. "I guess the person could have climbed up and leaped down--the way the prints looked, he landed heavily... but he'd have had to get a running start to end up in this spot--and he's lucky he didn't break an ankle doing it. Thing is, even if, by some fluke, it worked--which explains why there were no tracks bringing him to this point, there are no tracks to show him leaving the site, either. Basically, our... helper... appeared out of nowhere, got in a good toss, and vanished."
"Sounds like we have a meta on our hands."
Dick nodded. "Sounds like we have someone who thinks that all it takes to be a hero is to pop in and start throwing things. After listening to what Montoya and Batgirl both had to say, it doesn't sound like this person has had anything in the way of formal training. He seems to be making it up as he goes along." He grimaced. "Much as it's a good thing to think on your feet, that's just the kind of inexperience that can get a guy killed."
"Not if you teach me."
Both men whirled as one, startled to see a slight figure in a baseball uniform standing behind them.
"Not if you give me a chance."
Chapter 3: Hurting
For Chapter One, click HERE
Summary: Bruce tries to reconcile himself to the new changes in his life. Dick confronts Ollie over his past behavior.
Note: This is a sequel to Locked Inside the Facade and Lost to the Night (click the tags for the earlier parts).
Words: 6568
How long does it take
How long will it last
Till it feels like my whole world's not torn in half
If [I] remember what [I was]
Remember what [I] had
It won't be that hard to get it back
Amanda Wilkinson, Steve Wilkinson and Shaye Smith, "The Art of Letting Go"
A/N: Thanks to Debbie and Kathy for the beta! Thanks to Sara for being a sounding board!
A/N: Doctor Doom appeared in Detective Comics 158, "The Thousand and One Trophies of Batman". This is not the Marvel character. Diamond appeared in Detective Comics 186, "The Flying Batcave". Thomas Wayne's Batman costume is from Detective Comics 235, "The First Batman". Moon rocks are from Bizarro Comics 2001, "Inside the Batcave".
A/N: "The Art of Letting Go" written by Amanda Wilkinson, Steve Wilkinson and Shaye Smith. Recorded by Amanda Wilkinson on her Amanda Wilkinson CD (Kiayasongs/EMI, 2005)
Chapter 2: Torn In Half
When Jim woke up the next morning, he still wasn't sure how well the previous night had gone. True, Bruce hadn't lost his temper, tried to order him off the property, or threatened to contest the lease agreement. But to say that Bruce had been delighted by the turn of events was pushing things. Bruce disliked being manipulated, and he didn't always take kindly to the assistance of others. No, Jim reflected, this could go either way. And should Bruce opt to ignore his new tenant, Jim admitted to himself that it would be difficult for him to keep his word not to interfere.
The former police commissioner sighed. Bruce knew where things stood now; the next step was up to him. Meanwhile, Jim thought as he stood up, he wasn't going to sit around all day waiting for a knock on the door. He reached for his cane. It was a beautiful day for a walk around the grounds.
He was pleasantly surprised to see Bruce coming up the walk as he opened the front door. The younger man seemed more apprehensive than he had been the night before. Interesting--especially when one considered that, last night, Bruce hadn't had any idea whom he would encounter. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising. Batman kept his friends at arm's length. When it came to his enemies? That was when he got up close and personal.
Jim took a deep breath. "Good morning, Bruce."
Bruce didn't respond immediately. He just stopped, roughly three feet away, and stood silently.
Jim waited. "Is there... something I can help you with?"
Bruce nodded. "Living here," he said hesitantly, "is your idea, correct? There was no... You weren't... pressured?"
"Just the opposite," Jim smiled. "I had to do some pretty fast talking to convince Dick."
Bruce closed his eyes and nodded again. When he opened them once more, Jim could see a resolution that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Alright," he said firmly. He reached into his pocket. "This is the key to the patio door. This one is for the kitchen. I've reset the front door code to Barbara's birthday--month first, and then day." He took a deep breath. "I do think that this is unnecessary. But, if I'm wrong, then it would be... foolish for you not to have access to the house if there was a situation where your presence might be..."
"Appreciated?" Jim asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Required." Seeing Jim's frown, Bruce clarified. "I do appreciate your being here."
"Even though it's not needed?"
Bruce started to respond before he registered the teasing note in his old friend's voice. He turned away, though not before his lips pulled into a cautious smile. "I suppose," he ventured, "it would be helpful if I were to give you a tour of the estate. The manor, in particular, can be confusing at times."
Jim nodded to himself, satisfied. He took a few steps forward. "Lead on."
"We should start with the house," Bruce said, as he slid open the patio doors. "It's heading into the hottest part of the day, so it's better to be indoors."
Jim followed him inside. "That's fine," he rumbled. "Whichever you'd prefer."
"You'll have to tell me if I'm walking too fast," Bruce added. "Alfred usually does--did--this kind of thing." He shied away as Jim tried to put a hand on his shoulder. "It would be better if you avoided that," he said flatly. "I need to deal with things on my own."
Jim stifled a retort. "Okay."
Bruce was already moving. "I know you've seen the study," he said. "We'll skip it for now. The dining room is this way. Through here is the kitchen." He paused. "That path you can see out the window runs past the side of your cottage. If you follow it further, it will lead you to the kitchen gardens. I haven't looked in on those yet," he added, "but if you wanted to... I remember during the No Man's Land that you grew some vegetables."
"I might just take you up on that offer," Jim said, "even if it's a bit late in the year to start planting. I may need a bit of help at the outset, though. My back," he added apologetically, "isn't what it was."
Bruce smiled. "That can be arranged." He opened up another door to reveal a flight of stairs. "It's mostly storage down here. Wine cellars, meat freezers," he stopped, embarrassed. "I probably haven't been down there since I was a child," he admitted.
"Ah," Jim said sagely. "So that isn't the access to that cave I've heard Dick mention a few times." His lips twitched.
Bruce blinked. "No." He took a deep breath. "I can show you where that is, if you'd like."
Jim raised an eyebrow. Bruce's tone was almost nonchalant, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. "Well," Jim admitted, "I am curious. I won't deny that. But I wouldn't want to intrude if..."
"No," Bruce interrupted. "It's fine. I... if you choose to come over here, that's probably the first place you should look." He smiled guardedly. "Actually, I think I'd rather you did see it."
"Ah." Without another word, Jim followed him to the study and watched as Bruce turned the hands on the grandfather clock to 8:25. He held an appreciative silence as Bruce led him down a flight of stairs, and showed him the hangars for the 'copter and plane. Then they took the elevator down one level to the trophy room.
"I remember that one," he said softly, as his gaze fell on an Egyptian sarcophagus. "Doctor Doom?"
Bruce nodded. "That was how many years ago?"
"Too many," Jim said. "Now what in the...?" He chuckled softly. "'Parachutes used to escape from Bat-Cave', eh?" he said, indicating the sign. "Don't tell me. That was when Diamond blackmailed you into not setting foot in Gotham for a week..."
"I kept my end of the bargain," Bruce pointed out, "even if it did require a certain amount of improvisation to do it."
"A flying cave?"
Bruce released an exaggerated sigh. "Technically it was a state-of-the-art lab in a hovercraft. Dick had another name for it."
"And he made the sign, I take it?"
Bruce didn't reply, but a small smile played on his lips. "I think that this suit might have been my original inspiration," he said, pointing to a glass display case. "Although I'd forgotten about it until years later, when it turned up in a trunk in the attic. My father wore it to a costume party one night."
Jim nodded. "Thank you," he said simply. "I'm honored that you're showing me... this."
Bruce shook his head. "If you're willing to become part of... all of this, I've no objections," he said. "Quite the contrary, in fact." He met Jim's gaze cautiously. This time, he didn't flinch when the older man placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "There's a bit more to see," Bruce said, walking forward briskly. His tension was gone. "These moon rocks..."
"So, that's how it stands," Dick said. "We know that the Ghost Dragons are involved in diamond smuggling. My first thought was conflict diamonds, but so far, there's been nothing to link the 'Dragons with UNITA or any of the other insurgency movements that we typically hear about in connection with that kind of thing."
"Yakuza?" Black Canary asked.
"Maybe," Dick frowned. "But the 'Dragons originate from Hong Kong, not Japan. That usually means the Triads. Now, if they're converting their cash assets to diamonds..."
Green Arrow nodded. "Money laundering concerns aside, stones are a better investment than cash, these days." He poured another cup of coffee and leaned back against the sofa cushions.
"Normally," Dick said, "I wouldn't be asking this, but with Selina away and Roy on a League mission--"
Dinah shook her head. "No problem. I'm the one who sent him on that mission. We're here."
"Talk to Batgirl," Dick said seriously. "She fought them last night. I've heard her report, but she might have some other details."
"We will. Is Babs upstairs? I just want to say, 'hi'."
Dick nodded. "She's been up there all afternoon."
"I'll wait down here," Ollie said. "Hurry back, Pretty Bird."
Once Dinah left, Ollie took a deep breath. "How's Bruce doing?"
Dick started to collect the empty cake plates. "Do you really care?" He asked quietly.
The archer's face reddened, though it was hard to tell whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Dick stacked the Corelle plates noisily, one atop the other. Then he reached for the cutlery and slammed each piece, one at a time, on the topmost plate. "I'm curious, Oliver." He carried the plates into the kitchen and dropped them into the sink with a clatter. "You were aware of what happened. I know for a fact that Roy told you about it within a week of the arrest. And in all this time, you haven't set foot in Gotham. You haven't asked after him. Now that he's out, you're suddenly Mr. Concerned?"
Ollie's expression hardened. "I don't think I care for your tone, Dick. Let me ask you, do you honestly believe he would have wanted me to see him like that?"
"No," Dick admitted. "He wouldn't have. And you wouldn't have gotten in anyway. I'm not really upset that you didn't try. But in two years, this is the first time you've ever shown an interest."
"This may come as a shock to you," Ollie drawled, "but I do talk to Roy and Dinah on occasion. They gave me updates. You and I both know that he wouldn't have liked the idea of me encroaching on his turf after..." his voice trailed off. "Well... you know why he quit the League."
"Yeah," Dick snarled. "Because the people he thought he could count on turned around and stabbed him in the back. Tell, me Ollie: did it get any easier the second time?"
Oliver Queen's mouth dropped open. "Why, you little punk..." he said softly, but with venom. He lunged forward, fist upraised.
Dick was ready for him. The next thing Ollie knew, he was on the floor, and Dick was twisting his arms behind his back.
"You care to try that again?" he asked. "C'mon, Ollie. Anytime you want to. It won't change the fact that when people need you, you either shove them away or you cut and run."
"Look who's talking!" Ollie snapped. "Listen, 'Pot'! You want to say Bruce needed you? Fine. Dandy! But while you were being a good little boy and protecting Gotham, the rest of us were trying to save the damned universe!" He struggled to break loose, but Dick's hold was firm. "Everyone knows you're one of the best people to have on hand in a crisis. If Bruce couldn't be there, you were our next best hope." He twisted his head back as far as he was able, and glared at his captor. "Well, this time, you weren't around, and it cost Kon his life. I almost lost Roy and Mia--would have, if Dinah hadn't gotten there in time to shriek Alexander Luthor's blaster to high-tech shards. As it was, they were both in ICU for weeks. Maybe if you'd bothered to show up, you would've concocted a better plan, but you didn't. So we did what we could." What his voice lost in volume, it made up for in coldness. "And I almost watched two of the people I care for the most die in front of me. And you know something, Dick? That kind of risk comes with the territory. So do sacrifices for the greater good. Which don't include you bat-brats wimping out and staying in your own little corner of the globe. And Bruce would have told you the same thing!"
"Yeah? Well with Bruce, it wasn't almost! You know something, Ollie?" Abruptly, Dick released him. "You pegged it." He gave a quick, bitter laugh. "That's exactly what Bruce would've told me. But here's the thing. If I'd been in the kind of bind he was in, he would've dropped everything and stood by me. Which is more than you did for him, when you could've spoken out at the Watchtower after what happened with Dr. Light. Not to mention," he added acidly, "it's more than you ever did for Roy when he needed you."
Ollie stood up, rubbing his wrists. "Is that so? Well, if you and Bruce were Opie and Andy, then where was Daddy of the Year when Joker shot you? Or when your wedding to Starfire turned out to be a real blast? How about after you joined the mob, Renegade?" He blocked Dick's swing and countered with one of his own. Dick grabbed his wrist. The two men glowered at each other. "Stop acting so self-righteous, Richard. Or should I say, 'Dick'? People screw up. You. Me. Him. If I had my life to live over, maybe I'd do a few things differently--but I don't. And if you're expecting me to start weeping and wailing about how horrible I was for not being there for you and yours, when you basically left us high and dry? It won't happen. I made my choices and I'll stand by them."
Dick shook his head. "You know what? You're right." He saw the fury in Ollie's eyes give way to shock. "You're right," he repeated with a slight smile. "You had to make a tough choice and you did. And maybe, if Bruce or I had been in your shoes, we would have even made the same one. But once the... crisis was over, we would have touched base to make sure that everything worked out; and if it hadn't... we would have been there. Even if it was too little, too late. We would have done something."
"Yeah? What?"
"I don't know," Dick admitted. "But I don't think it would have involved ignoring you for two years. And if I'm wrong, and it had, I do know this: we wouldn't have shrugged off your reproaches with a 'them's the breaks'. Seriously, Queen, that was cold." He shook his head. "I'm going up to check on Babs. Try to be gone when I get back."
He pulled the door open to reveal Dinah, her hand extended as though she was reaching for the knob.
"Is everything okay?" she asked uncertainly.
Oliver nodded. "We're fine. I was just waiting for you, Pretty Bird. Let's go get some air." He forced a smile. "Be seeing you, Dick."
"Later, Queen," Dick said, just as coolly. "Stay classy."
He waited until he knew that they were gone, and until he was sure that he had a handle on his temper. Then he went up to Barbara.
"They're off?" Barbara asked without turning around.
"Just a minute ago." He sighed. "Was it your idea to bring Ollie in?"
Barbara's ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head. "I called Dinah. She asked if he could tag along." She turned her chair slowly. "Seems like it's been hard for them to find time together, what with one or the other always running off to take care of business."
"Whoa." Dick held his hands up. "Was that a dig? It sounded like a dig." He flashed a smile. "I'm not in the doghouse again, am I?"
Barbara sighed. "Not you, no. I'm sorry. Just... you know I was supposed to meet Daddy for lunch." When Dick nodded, she shut her eyes, lifted her glasses, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "He didn't show up. After I'd been waiting nearly a half-hour, I called him. I thought..." She shook her head. "I know you weren't in Gotham when it happened. You probably heard anyhow, but just in case Bruce never told you... Daddy had a heart attack a few years ago. Call me an alarmist, but when I didn't hear from him, that was the first thing going through my mind." She opened her eyes. "He was down in the cave with Bruce. Perfectly fine. He'd just lost track of the time."
Dick pulled up a chair next to her. "Well, at least he was okay."
"I know. And this is why he's up in Bristol, anyway--so Bruce has someone." She sighed. "The lunch date just totally slipped his mind. I think he was more upset about it than I was. Compared to everything else we deal with in a typical week, a missed rendezvous isn't all that serious, but still... I don't see him that often. And," she waved a hand at the multiple visual arrays that surrounded her, "I can't always drop everything. That was supposed to be our time, damn it." She leaned forward as she felt Dick's hands lightly grip her upper arms. "I'm not really angry," she said, gazing down at her lap. "But I was looking forward to it."
"I understand."
She nodded. Then her eyes snapped up and bored, full-force, into his. "We're still on for tonight, right? Dinner, and then a stroll through the botanical gardens?"
Dick grinned. "You know it. Unless..." He frowned. "Pam's still in custody, right?"
Barbara rolled backward and, without looking, tapped a button on her console. She turned around. Dick heard her typing a short, quick staccato on the keyboard. "There's the visual," she said. "Doesn't look like Blackgate agrees with her," she added a trifle sadly. "At Arkham, they always let her keep one plant in the cell."
"Blackgate deals with the sane ones," Dick pointed out with a sigh. "Arkham's inmates spook them. The prison administration doesn't want trouble so they crack down on 'em harder. It stinks, but they're really not equipped to deal with her." He motioned to Barbara to kill the display. "I'm just glad Bruce isn't there, too."
"Uh-huh." Barbara was silent for a moment. "So," she said, facing him again, "I get you all to myself tonight."
Dick smiled. "That's what was on your mind," he said with a note of triumph.
"Well," she said, flushing, "after getting stood up by my own dad... I mean..." She took a deep breath. "I know that just because Bruce is out now, doesn't mean you're going to stop seeing him; but it's just..." She exhaled. "I don't want you to have to choose between Bruce and me," she began, "but by the same token, I don't want to worry that if you did have to choose..." She shook her head. "I'm being selfish, aren't I?"
"No," Dick said gently. "You're being honest. And you're right. The last two years haven't been easy for any of us." His expression turned serious. "I think we both know that Bruce is still going to be a major part of our lives."
"Well, of course," Barbara interrupted.
"But," Dick continued, "that doesn't mean that he's going to be running our lives. Right now, I'm playing things by ear, letting him settle in. If he calls and wants me to go over, assuming we don't already have plans, I will. Meanwhile, for the next little while, I'll use the phone. If he doesn't pick up... just do me a favor, and make sure your dad's seen him?" He grinned. "If Bruce isn't in the mood to talk, he'll usually let it go to voicemail."
"And after 'the next little while'?"
"To be honest, I'm not thinking that far ahead at the moment. Probably, I'll stop by and see him before or after patrol. Or we'll both go up together and visit with your father, too. But my nights off?" He grinned. "You get first crack at them."
Barbara smiled back. A signal somewhere overhead started beeping. She sighed. "JSA. I really need to take this one."
"Go ahead," Dick said, as she turned back to the monitor array. "I'm going to get a workout in and shower before we head out. See you downstairs."
"A kid?" Dinah asked, incredulous.
Cassandra nodded. "Voice was... too light to be adult. The way the deck vibrated, I think he weighed maybe..." she frowned. "Less than I do. Maybe..." she crossed over to the rack where she kept her free weights. She lifted one ten-pound dumbbell. "Eight of these. Maybe nine. Not more. And I think," she raised her other hand to shoulder height and held it, palm downward, "this high."
"You said 'he'," Oliver pointed out. "If the voice was light, couldn't it have been a girl?"
"Maybe," Cassandra said. "But I don't think so."
"Mind clueing me in as to why?"
Cass lifted an eyebrow. "He came in, made a mess, and acted like I should be... pleased to clean up." She shrugged. "I... haven't met any women who would think that way."
Dinah burst out laughing. Ollie winced.
"Did you have any trouble getting here?" Alex asked the next day.
Bruce sat down on the couch with a sigh. "Not as such. Though my business with the DMV took longer than anticipated."
Alex smiled. "Those lines can be long, I know. Do you have to take the test over?"
"Had the license expired more than three years ago, it would be a requirement," Bruce said, shaking his head. "Thankfully, it's been under six months."
"And you're settling in alright?"
"Yes," Bruce stated quickly.
Alex took a deep breath. "Good." He leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Mr. Wayne," he began, "Bruce. Before we pick up from where we left off, there are a few formalities we need to take care of. I figured we'd spend this first session dealing with those, and then start fresh, next time." He waited for Bruce's acknowledgement. "For instance," he continued, "you do understand that going back to your home is a significant adjustment? Under normal circumstances, you would have transitioned to a halfway house first--"
"We've been over that before," Bruce interrupted. "The risk that my presence would pose to the other residents--not to mention to the staff--is unacceptable. At least, the manor security systems are properly equipped to deal with an intruder."
"I concur," Alex said calmly. "So did the judge. However, I have to say that I'm extremely concerned about your living essentially alone, on seven hundred fifty acres, give or take." When Bruce looked up, the psychiatrist shrugged. "I did my research. In any case, I can tell you now that safety concerns did have a role in securing your release when it did." His eyes crinkled at the corners, though his voice stayed serious. "Technically speaking, especially since you didn't go the halfway house route, you wouldn't have been able to leave the Saint Swithins Psych ward until we could locate a suitable companion."
"Companion." Bruce's brow furrowed. "You mean... a nurse?"
"In most circumstances, yes," Alex nodded. "Everything would have had to have been arranged prior to your release, or there might well have been no release. However, in your specific case, the judge had to consider both your security, and that of the hospital. The Saint Swithins administration did voice their concerns about your presence. I can tell you that now." He smiled. "Also, you have an aggressive lawyer in your court. That helped. However, even though ideally, prior to the hearing the Gotham Mental Health Authority should have made arrangements for a live-in companion to be assigned to you, well, bureaucracy being what it is --"
Bruce took a deep breath. He knew that one of the terms of his release was compliance with Alex's instructions, but surely... "I'd prefer not to deal with outsiders. Is there no way to avoid it?" That was all he needed: one more interfering interloper. It wasn't so much that he craved isolation--far from it--but he valued his privacy. He didn't want a stranger dogging his heels, and he definitely didn't want to allow said stranger access to the areas of the manor where he felt most at ease. Inviting Jim into his world was one thing, but... but... there was an idea... "Does the companion need to be an outsider?" he asked.
Alex thought for a moment. "Not really. It needs to be someone acceptable to the GMHA, of course. And it would have to be someone able to be with you twenty-four-seven, for a period of sixty to ninety days. Usually, that would mean a trained nurse, but it's not essential."
Bruce breathed in again. "Could it mean a retired police commissioner?"
Alex smiled. "I think we can explore that possibility." He thought for a moment. "Before we meet again, next week, discuss it with him." He rummaged in his desk and pulled out a thin booklet. "Make sure that he reads this over carefully. It outlines the eligibility criteria, duties, and responsibilities. If he qualifies, and if he's willing, I'll need to set up an interview and arrange the necessary approvals, but I don't perceive a problem. If he isn't willing, then we will need to explore other avenues."
Bruce nodded.
"Okay. We'll consider that subject conditionally resolved. The next thing I need to bring up with you isn't a requirement, so much as a strong recommendation. It's proven therapeutic for many people in your circumstances and I would encourage you to consider..."
"Fish?" Dick wasn't sure that he was hearing correctly. "He wants you to keep fish?"
Bruce sighed. "If this conversation is meant to encourage me to maintain open lines of communication, it's failing miserably," he stated dryly.
"Sorry," Dick said, instantly contrite. "Still..." He broke off, hearing Bruce's irritation, loud and clear, through the telephone. "Okay, so... fish. Well, at least none of our... friends-at-large has any affinity for using them as an MO. Not like birds, or rats, or plants... or mustard."
"Dick," Bruce's voice was pained, "I'd like to believe that even in my current state, I could handle Condiment King!"
"I don't doubt it," Dick said hastily. "Did Alex make any suggestion on what kind you should get?"
"Beyond starting with a lower-maintenance variety, no. Jim vetoed piranha, however."
"Ah. Well, maybe he'll come around. One of my friends in college kept a couple in his room. One or two can't really do that much damage--it's when you've got a whole school of," he listened for a moment. "Okay... um... yeah, putting fifty of them in the swimming pool might be going a little overboard. Well, for starters, are you sure you can get every trace of chlorine out of the pool tiles? Not to mention that fish sometimes jump... and, well, that would cause splashing. Which would make the area around the pool a bit slippery and, you know what? Start with the aquarium. Maybe give Orin a call--he might have some ideas. Okay, it was just a suggestion." He sighed. "Fine, consider it dropped. What else is doing?"
Bruce ignored the question. "Are you working tonight?"
"Yep. Got a practice spar with Cass in about an hour and then, I'm suiting up."
"Ah." Bruce thought for a moment. "Which... suit?" He heard Dick exhale on the other end of the line. "It doesn't disturb me that you've taken to wearing the cowl," he said softly. "You might find it gives you a certain advantage with the criminal element."
"I know," Dick admitted. "But it gives me a certain disadvantage dealing with the GCPD."
For a moment, Bruce frowned in confusion. Then, "Which one of us has the greater disadvantage if you wear the suit?"
Silence.
"I see," Bruce said after a moment. "Alright. Nightwing patrols tonight. Tomorrow, however, I want you to wear the other suit. Call me before you head downstairs to change, and leave the rest to me."
"Okay," Dick said dubiously. "But you know that if they do send a car up to the manor and you're not there, it's only going to make them more--"
"Dick!" Bruce said sharply. "I'm out of practice, not stupid. Trust me." He sighed. "I know what I'm doing."
This time, the pause seemed to go on longer than it actually did. "I do trust you," Dick said finally. "I always have. Just..." he caught himself. "Nothing. I'll call you tomorrow."
When Dick phoned the following night, Bruce was ready. "It'll be dark in an hour. In seventy-five minutes, I want you in the vicinity of GCPD headquarters. Do not approach unless the signal goes up, but make sure you're spotted. I'll handle the rest." He hung up before Dick could respond.
"Want some company?" Jim asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Not this time." He hesitated. "Thanks for calling Alex. You didn't ha--"
"Enough with the 'didn't have to' already!" Jim said irritably. "If your doctor thinks this is necessary, and you'd prefer me over someone you don't know, I'm fine with it." He smiled then. "I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't suspected something like this might be needed when I suggested settling in here. I though maybe you'd find it easier to ask me if I was already on the grounds."
Bruce smiled back, but then a troubled look came into his eyes. "It's just... I'm not an easy person to know. I hope you won't regret this."
Jim chuckled. "I've regretted a few things before. I doubt one more is really going to make that big of a difference. Anyway, you're not telling me anything I don't already know." He shook his head sadly. "I'm not sure how you missed the obvious clues, but I'm not perfect either. I can cope if you can."
Bruce smiled. "I believe I can manage that." Abruptly, he headed for the front door. "I need to get moving." As Jim started to say something, he held up one hand. "I know. Once the paperwork is approved, I'll... abide by the terms." He sighed. "If I'm supposed to have someone with me 'round the clock, then," his lips twitched. "I trust you'll be able to manage... completing your sentences?"
That prompted a genuine laugh. "Now that's something I'm looking forward to."
Bruce's smile grew wider, then fell away. "I'd just like one night out, by myself, before everything is finalized. Surely that's a reasonable request."
Jim put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. "Go on, then. Do what you need to. I'll see you later... or in the morning. Depending."
Bruce nodded and headed for the garage.
Nearly forty minutes later, he was walking through the front entrance of the central branch of the Gotham City Police Department. The building hadn't changed much, Bruce thought, as he walked through the lobby and approached the front desk.
"Would you please tell Renee Montoya that Bruce Wayne is here to see her?" He asked, making it sound as thought he was keeping an appointment.
The ruse worked. The receptionist made the call, and, a moment later, waved him to a seat. "She'll be with you in a minute."
It was closer to ten minutes before Captain Montoya came downstairs. "Ba--Mr. Wayne!" She greeted him warmly. "This is a surprise. I'm glad you stopped by." She extended her hand. As Bruce moved to shake it, she gave a self-conscious laugh and clapped him on the back with her other hand. "We can talk in my office," she said. "Follow me."
Upstairs, Bruce politely declined a cup of coffee. Renee shrugged and poured one for herself. "It really is good to see you. I'm sorry I couldn't make the hearing," she rolled her eyes. "Paperwork. I still can't believe how much more of it there is, these days."
Bruce nodded understanding. "You never told me you'd made captain. Congratulations."
She nodded. "I guess it just... never came up. So, what brings you out here?"
Bruce took a deep breath. "I wanted to thank you for your support," he said quietly. "It meant a lot. I wanted you to know."
Montoya tried to hide her surprise. "You're welcome," she managed. "You didn't have to come by in person, just to tell me that, you know. Not that I'm not happy to see you again, but..." Her eyes opened wide. "I... did you want to continue helping us with the cold case files? Or possibly, some of the ones that aren't so cold? Because we're frankly swamped, and I could use your expertise."
"I'd like that," Bruce admitted. "I'm still adjusting to my current situation, Captain, but perhaps in a week or so?"
"Whenever you're ready. And my name's Renee."
He nodded. "In that case, I'm Bruce."
She smiled. "I'll try to remember that, but it's going to take some getting used to."
"I understand."
There was a silence then, which stretched on. After more than a full minute had elapsed, Renee cleared her throat. "Was there anything else? Or can I see you to the lobby?"
Bruce shook his head. "Nothing else, but I can't leave just yet."
"I-I don't understand," Renee said with a frown.
Just then, the office door burst open. "I'm sorry, Captain," a young officer said, stepping in. "We've just spotted Batman in the vicinity, and I was wondering whether you wanted us to send a car out to Bristol, just to be sure that..." He stopped as Bruce twisted about in his chair to meet the policeman's eyes squarely. "Uh, never mind," the young man mumbled. "Sorry to have disturbed you. Have a good night, Mr. Wayne." He exited hastily.
Bruce rose to his feet. "Now, I can leave," he said, satisfied.
Renee winced. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Your people have to consider the possibility. However, my people need to operate under optimal conditions. That includes wearing the proper uniform." He waited for her to come around from behind her desk. "I'll make a point of stopping by around this time, for the next few nights. I don't believe it should be necessary after a week or so." He turned the doorknob.
Renee followed him out. "It's not fair."
Bruce smiled sadly. "After all the years you've lived here, Captain, do you honestly expect fairness? We'd like there to be. We try to operate as though there were, but we know better. Have a good night, Renee." He pressed the button to summon the elevator.
"Mr. Wayne?"
Bruce and Renee turned as one, as Commissioner Maggie Sawyer strode briskly toward them. "I didn't know you were in the neighborhood."
Bruce nodded. "I was just leaving."
"Ah," Sawyer nodded. "Then I won't keep you. However, I'd appreciate it if you'd give me a call sometime during the next week. There's something I'd like to go over with you at your convenience."
Bruce's eyes darted to Renee's, but she seemed as mystified as he was.
"I believe that I might be able to come by tomorrow evening, around nine," he considered. It would give him an excuse, as well as cement his alibi.
"Fine. I'll see you then." Her gaze moved on. "Captain, I'll need that report on my desk before you come off shift."
Renee nodded. "I think I mentioned the paperwork?" she commented ruefully to Bruce. To Sawyer, she said only, "I'll finish it up after I see Mr. Wayne downstairs."
The elevator came then, cutting the conversation short.
"So, what are we doing here, again?" Green Arrow asked, as Batman knelt on the pier, evidence kit in hand.
"Well, I'm looking for clues," Batman said, without turning toward his companion. "You're watching my back."
"About yesterday."
Dick sighed. "Ever since Arkham burned down, between patrol, Bruce's medical complications, the hearing, and..." He let his voice trail off. "I've been on a short fuse," he continued evenly. "You lit it."
The archer grunted in acknowledgement. "I've been told I'm good at that. Next time, just let me know when you're looking for a target. I'll set up a bulls-eye and we can take turns firing trick arrows."
Batman glanced up. Ollie was smiling. After a moment, the younger man turned back to his task. "Thanks."
"So. Turn anything up?"
Dick shook his head. "No, and it bothers me. Not so much about the diamonds--I wasn't expecting anything new on that front. The kid."
"We didn't see him, last night," Ollie rumbled. "And I think Batgirl may have spooked the 'Dragons."
"Maybe, but they'll have to make a move sooner or later," Batman said as he ran a scanner over the pier. "Either they'll try to unload the diamonds they got away with the other night, or they'll have to meet a new shipment. Probably both. Damn!"
"What?"
"Nothing. Or at least..." He looked up. "Cass had the presence of mind to take photographs of the area where the kid showed up. We have two clear footprints and... nothing."
Green Arrow frowned. "Nothing? Meaning, what?"
Batman sighed. "Meaning that whoever the person is, he didn't approach. There are no tracks leading to or from the site. Now, according to the pictures, there were a bunch of crates stacked over there," he pointed to a section of the dock that was presently vacant. "I guess the person could have climbed up and leaped down--the way the prints looked, he landed heavily... but he'd have had to get a running start to end up in this spot--and he's lucky he didn't break an ankle doing it. Thing is, even if, by some fluke, it worked--which explains why there were no tracks bringing him to this point, there are no tracks to show him leaving the site, either. Basically, our... helper... appeared out of nowhere, got in a good toss, and vanished."
"Sounds like we have a meta on our hands."
Dick nodded. "Sounds like we have someone who thinks that all it takes to be a hero is to pop in and start throwing things. After listening to what Montoya and Batgirl both had to say, it doesn't sound like this person has had anything in the way of formal training. He seems to be making it up as he goes along." He grimaced. "Much as it's a good thing to think on your feet, that's just the kind of inexperience that can get a guy killed."
"Not if you teach me."
Both men whirled as one, startled to see a slight figure in a baseball uniform standing behind them.
"Not if you give me a chance."
Chapter 3: Hurting