Part One | Part Two| Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve|
Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen
Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen
Jim Gordon stood with his back against the wall, hands deep in his coat pocket, fiddling with his keys. He had never been nervous about meeting new people before, let alone new people who were already friends with his friends. So, why was he getting the jitters now? Next to him Alfred glanced down at his watch, peaking his head around the corner to look out the window. Gordon followed his gaze to see that the plane Richard Grayson was due to come in on had just landed. Alfred turned back to Gordon, squeezing his arm.
“If Master Grayson can befriend a man such as Master Wayne, I know he'll have no trouble with you,” Alfred said with a sincere smile, as if he knew how Gordon was feeling. Gordon was chalking the nervousness up to the fact that he and Wayne were a little more than friends, or so he'd like to think, and not knowing the past that Wayne really had with Richard... it made him feel a little more than uneasy. He really shouldn't be thinking this way, he completely doubted Wayne would have even gone their with a kid who was underage at the time of their first meeting.
“Thanks, I think...” Gordon said, unsure. He wasn't sure what Alfred meant really, but it might have had to do with the fact that Wayne could be a difficult person to get along with all the time, which Gordon was starting to notice. Gordon hoped that he was less difficult. Alfred winked at him and walked away towards the terminal where the passengers were piling off the plane. Gordon stayed a few steps behind, very unsure as to what this kid was even going to look like.
It wasn't too long before Gordon found out. A young man, probably a good six years or so younger than Wayne, around Gordon's height with dark brown hair and dark eyes and a slim frame approached Alfred with a smile wider than the Grand Canyon. Richard threw his arms around Alfred in a big hug, which Alfred returned graciously. Gordon thought it almost weird, he'd never seen Alfred so relaxed.
“Master Grayson, I'd like you to meet Commissioner Gordon,” Alfred said as he lead the younger man over to Gordon. Richard put his hand out and Gordon shook it, feeling the calluses on his hands, obvious that Richard definitely used his hands a lot.
“Good to meet you, Commissioner,” Richard said, the same smile still plastered on his face.
“Mutual, Mister Grayson,” Gordon replied. Richard smirked at him and shook his head.
“Mister Grayson was my father. Please, call me Dick.” Richard, or perhaps Gordon was to refer to him as Dick now, picked up his suit case off the floor where he had placed it and gestured to the door of the airport, raising his eyebrows in some hidden amusement as Alfred tried to take the suitcase from Dick.
The younger man pulled it back and pushed Alfred playfully away. “Master Grayson,” Alfred started to say but Dick wasn't listening as he rolled his eyes at Gordon. Gordon started to walk towards the exit, aware the other two were just behind him.
“So, Dick, where were you flying in from?” Gordon asked, aware this was probably the extent of his smalltalk, but he had to do something to break the silence.
“California. I was offered a teaching position at the circus arts school there. I was looking into it,” Dick replied, but his enthusiasm for the position didn't seem to be there. Gordon looked back at him for a second, raising an eyebrow.
“I take it the job wasn't what you were expecting?” Gordon questioned as they reached the Rolls Royce. Alfred unlocked the trunk, helping Dick put his suitcase in there. Dick then looked at Gordon, assessing him with his soft eyes.
“I don't like to be in one place too long. A commitment to a school of any kind would require more than a few years of settling. I couldn't do that.” Dick smiled easily at Gordon, opening the passenger door, but then stopped to look at Gordon, resting his arm on the door as he leaned over it. “Bruce told me about you when I was here last. He was right.”
Gordon wanted to ask what Dick meant by that, but the younger man had already slid into the car, and Gordon followed by getting into the backseat. Alfred started up the car and they headed towards Wayne Manor. They might have been five minutes into the drive when Dick spoke up.
“So, explain to me what's going on?” He wasn't asking either one of them in particular, but just in general to see who would give him the straight answer. Alfred looked into the review mirror at Gordon, suggesting he take the first round.
Gordon sighed. “Bruce is in a state of... well I guess we can call it 'mental shock' or 'denial' even. There was an incident at one of his parties a little over a week ago, and he made a decision that ended up killing two dangerous men. I'm sure you're aware of Bruce's 'no killing' rule?”
Dick nodded, turning around in the seat the best he could with the seat belt still protecting him. “Let me guess,” Dick said with flighty movement of his fingers. “Bruce went ballistic?”
“Something like that. He started off as very docile, but as time went along he started to get more angry about it, vengeful. Confused.” Gordon shook his head at the thought, he couldn't really place what Wayne had been thinking because Wayne was never very clear. Maybe Wayne had no idea either. “His current actions have landed him in Arkham Asylum. He's not even trying to figure a way out. Last time I talked to him he said there was something he had to do, but I honestly don't think he knows what he's doing anymore.”
Dick furrowed his eyebrows, letting out sigh. “I'm not sure what it is you two are expecting me to be able to do, but I'm willing to try whatever it is you have in mind.”
Gordon couldn't contain the smile that spread over his face. He liked this kid, not because he was young and obviously quite spirited, but because he reminded Gordon a lot of himself when he was that age and just starting out in the police force. So eager and willing to help, even when the person who needed the help might not be someone he was on good terms with.
“Well, we were sort of hoping you could convince him that his actions at his party the other night were justifiable. He's blaming himself and it's really what lead to this whole blown out situation he's in now. I think with a little convincing he might be able to see things clearly again.” Gordon waited to see if Dick would change his mind, if maybe it would be over his head to even think about trying something like that. But, to his surprise the younger man just smiled, a half grin really, and turned back around to face forward.
“Let me catch a nap at the manor first and I'll be all over it like fly to honey,” Dick said, grinning over at Alfred. Gordon thought it was odd that the young man had such a positive outlook and disposition, but maybe it came with traveling and living day-to-day. Maybe it's what Wayne needed to see.
-----
Bruce tried to be on his best behavior. He did what he was told, continued to spit out the pills when he had the chance, and just kept to himself. He had finally gotten down the Joker's therapy session time perfectly, the same guards every day at the same time. All Bruce had to do was convince one of the guard to take him to the bathroom and everything would fall into place just as it should. However, he had to be sure the guards wouldn't catch on, but knowing the two he usually had outside his cell, they would never think twice.
Unfortunately it wasn't going to happen today. Just as the change of guards started around the time the Joker was brought down the hall towards the therapy room, Bruce was told that he had a visitor. His first, agonizing thought was that it would be Gordon again. When would the commissioner just get that Bruce was not going to be getting out of Arkham any time soon, if ever. The guards cuffed him and dragged him to visitor center, locking him in the room. Bruce didn't look at the glass at first, too afraid to see Gordon's face staring back at him.
Bruce wasn't sure he could stand to see those pleading eyes again. The distraction was not a welcomed one anymore.
He slowly sat down, clasping his hands together and resting them on the counter in front of him. He slowly looked up at, starting with the hands he saw on the other side of the glass, noticing that those were not Jim Gordon's hands at all. Jim had long, slightly worn fingers. These fingers were worked over, callused. Bruce let his eyes trace the slender figure in front of him to to the face he wasn't nearly expecting to see.
“Dick,” Bruce muttered under his breath, not aware he hadn't really said it loud enough to be heard, but the other man grinned at him warmly. After the way they left each other on the younger man's last visit, Bruce didn't know how Dick could be smiling at him at all. Bruce had said some choice words at the time that he regretted later, but by then it was too late to really apologize.
Dick still had his shaggy hair, grown just below his chin and pushed behind his ears. His usually clean-shaved face had grungy looking stubble and his clothes were obviously well warn. Bruce started to shake his head, disbelief clouding his mind. No, you don't need this right now, Bruce. This is not right. Get him out. This, he, is going to ruin everything.
But how he could he turn away the one friend he had left that was most like family to him, the one person who was less likely to judge him right now. Dick was the younger brother he never had, the voice of reason. Why they ever fought, Bruce couldn't really remember anymore. The argument was sound at the time, but looking back it felt pointless and deluded.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, aware that his tone was sharp, and his question could have been taken the wrong way. Dick merely kept his smile.
“I could ask you the same thing, Bruce. But I won't,” Dick answered. He started to drum his fingers on the counter top, looking down at them for a moment before meeting Bruce's gaze again. “I heard rumors that you were in here. Kinda need to come see for myself to believe it.”
“It's not that hard to believe,” Bruce retorted, finding that he had his own smile appearing on his lips. Bruce felt a slight buzz of exhilaration run through his body, he hadn't actually used sarcasm or humor in days, it felt...Good. “I mean, I dress as a giant bat every night. Clearly, I have issues.”
“No worse than the rest of Gotham City, from what I hear,” Dick clasped his hands together and leaned forward towards the glass. “Before this goes any further, I wanted to apologize for leaving the way I did. I might not have agreed with your actions but I do respect them. I'd like to start over, forget it ever happened.”
Bruce had not been expecting that, especially since he was just as much in blame for the situation as Dick had been. Bruce chewed at the inside of the cheek as he let Dick's words sink in. “It won't matter, you know. I'm likely to be in here... forever.” Dick was just too late to be apologizing and wanting to start where they left off. Bruce signed to himself, wishing this had happened months ago instead of now. Why now?
Dick gave Bruce a sly grin, shaking his head. “Nah, not you. I know they'll figure out that you're not really 'crazy'.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at Dick, suddenly aware that perhaps Alfred had sent him. The conversation seemed far to casual and far to convenient. “What do you want, Dick?”
There was a few moments where they just looked at each other, a thick and unsure silence between them. Dick didn't let his expression show if he had any ill emotions towards Bruce just then or not. He nodded slowly, as if understanding.
“I don't know why you're in here, Bruce or what made you think that being in here is the best idea for you. But the Bruce I know from two years ago would never allow this to happen to him,” Dick said quietly, his tone had ring a of disgust in it.
“That Bruce doesn't exist anymore. That Bruce died when he killed two men,” Bruce spat back. He thought by now the rage in the back of his mind would have come forward and let loose, but there wasn't even an inkling or thought to be had. Bruce felt naked and lost without it. He had nothing to back up his actions without it.
“Yeah, I heard about that, too. It wasn't your fault, you know. Sometimes certain things happen that we don't have a lot of control over,” Dick said, keeping a calm demeanor in his voice. “You told me that, actually. Two years ago when I came to visit, right after my parents died. You told me that there was nothing I could have done to save them, that somethings can't be prevented. I'd hate to think you a liar, Bruce.”
The billionaire stared at Dick, a hard unwavering gaze. He kept his jaw locked and tried so hard not to think about two years ago. He had told Dick just that and he believed himself then and he knew that he really should believe himself now. But wasn't this different? Wasn't killing someone just the thing to break the rule? He wasn't sure anymore. Everything he had been so sure of the last week was suddenly being broken down. It's him, Bruce. Get Dick out of here. He's going to ruin everything.
Dick leaned towards the glass near the tiny holes so Bruce could hear him even as he whispered. “Bruce, you did what you had to. You saved a girl's life. Maybe if you had more time to think it would have ended differently, but considering it was so quick, no one can blame you. Why can't you see that?”
So it was true; Dick had been talking to Alfred and possibly Gordon. They sent him here, didn't they? It still didn't explain why Dick would even come if he was still angry with Bruce, so maybe he was here on his own as well. Either way, Bruce knew that talking to Dick any longer was not helping his situation. He had plans and they needed to get done. Maybe if he had heard all this before Arkham things could have been different. You did though, Bruce. From Jim Gordon, from Alfred... everyone told you.
The door behind Bruce opened and the guard came in to grab him. “C'mon, times up.” They took hold of his arms and started to drag him from the room. Bruce was still staring at Dick as he left, and the look on Dick's face looked hopeful, but with a pang of sadness in his features..
No, Bruce. Don't think even think about backing down. This is what we planned for. This has to happen.
“If Master Grayson can befriend a man such as Master Wayne, I know he'll have no trouble with you,” Alfred said with a sincere smile, as if he knew how Gordon was feeling. Gordon was chalking the nervousness up to the fact that he and Wayne were a little more than friends, or so he'd like to think, and not knowing the past that Wayne really had with Richard... it made him feel a little more than uneasy. He really shouldn't be thinking this way, he completely doubted Wayne would have even gone their with a kid who was underage at the time of their first meeting.
“Thanks, I think...” Gordon said, unsure. He wasn't sure what Alfred meant really, but it might have had to do with the fact that Wayne could be a difficult person to get along with all the time, which Gordon was starting to notice. Gordon hoped that he was less difficult. Alfred winked at him and walked away towards the terminal where the passengers were piling off the plane. Gordon stayed a few steps behind, very unsure as to what this kid was even going to look like.
It wasn't too long before Gordon found out. A young man, probably a good six years or so younger than Wayne, around Gordon's height with dark brown hair and dark eyes and a slim frame approached Alfred with a smile wider than the Grand Canyon. Richard threw his arms around Alfred in a big hug, which Alfred returned graciously. Gordon thought it almost weird, he'd never seen Alfred so relaxed.
“Master Grayson, I'd like you to meet Commissioner Gordon,” Alfred said as he lead the younger man over to Gordon. Richard put his hand out and Gordon shook it, feeling the calluses on his hands, obvious that Richard definitely used his hands a lot.
“Good to meet you, Commissioner,” Richard said, the same smile still plastered on his face.
“Mutual, Mister Grayson,” Gordon replied. Richard smirked at him and shook his head.
“Mister Grayson was my father. Please, call me Dick.” Richard, or perhaps Gordon was to refer to him as Dick now, picked up his suit case off the floor where he had placed it and gestured to the door of the airport, raising his eyebrows in some hidden amusement as Alfred tried to take the suitcase from Dick.
The younger man pulled it back and pushed Alfred playfully away. “Master Grayson,” Alfred started to say but Dick wasn't listening as he rolled his eyes at Gordon. Gordon started to walk towards the exit, aware the other two were just behind him.
“So, Dick, where were you flying in from?” Gordon asked, aware this was probably the extent of his smalltalk, but he had to do something to break the silence.
“California. I was offered a teaching position at the circus arts school there. I was looking into it,” Dick replied, but his enthusiasm for the position didn't seem to be there. Gordon looked back at him for a second, raising an eyebrow.
“I take it the job wasn't what you were expecting?” Gordon questioned as they reached the Rolls Royce. Alfred unlocked the trunk, helping Dick put his suitcase in there. Dick then looked at Gordon, assessing him with his soft eyes.
“I don't like to be in one place too long. A commitment to a school of any kind would require more than a few years of settling. I couldn't do that.” Dick smiled easily at Gordon, opening the passenger door, but then stopped to look at Gordon, resting his arm on the door as he leaned over it. “Bruce told me about you when I was here last. He was right.”
Gordon wanted to ask what Dick meant by that, but the younger man had already slid into the car, and Gordon followed by getting into the backseat. Alfred started up the car and they headed towards Wayne Manor. They might have been five minutes into the drive when Dick spoke up.
“So, explain to me what's going on?” He wasn't asking either one of them in particular, but just in general to see who would give him the straight answer. Alfred looked into the review mirror at Gordon, suggesting he take the first round.
Gordon sighed. “Bruce is in a state of... well I guess we can call it 'mental shock' or 'denial' even. There was an incident at one of his parties a little over a week ago, and he made a decision that ended up killing two dangerous men. I'm sure you're aware of Bruce's 'no killing' rule?”
Dick nodded, turning around in the seat the best he could with the seat belt still protecting him. “Let me guess,” Dick said with flighty movement of his fingers. “Bruce went ballistic?”
“Something like that. He started off as very docile, but as time went along he started to get more angry about it, vengeful. Confused.” Gordon shook his head at the thought, he couldn't really place what Wayne had been thinking because Wayne was never very clear. Maybe Wayne had no idea either. “His current actions have landed him in Arkham Asylum. He's not even trying to figure a way out. Last time I talked to him he said there was something he had to do, but I honestly don't think he knows what he's doing anymore.”
Dick furrowed his eyebrows, letting out sigh. “I'm not sure what it is you two are expecting me to be able to do, but I'm willing to try whatever it is you have in mind.”
Gordon couldn't contain the smile that spread over his face. He liked this kid, not because he was young and obviously quite spirited, but because he reminded Gordon a lot of himself when he was that age and just starting out in the police force. So eager and willing to help, even when the person who needed the help might not be someone he was on good terms with.
“Well, we were sort of hoping you could convince him that his actions at his party the other night were justifiable. He's blaming himself and it's really what lead to this whole blown out situation he's in now. I think with a little convincing he might be able to see things clearly again.” Gordon waited to see if Dick would change his mind, if maybe it would be over his head to even think about trying something like that. But, to his surprise the younger man just smiled, a half grin really, and turned back around to face forward.
“Let me catch a nap at the manor first and I'll be all over it like fly to honey,” Dick said, grinning over at Alfred. Gordon thought it was odd that the young man had such a positive outlook and disposition, but maybe it came with traveling and living day-to-day. Maybe it's what Wayne needed to see.
-----
Bruce tried to be on his best behavior. He did what he was told, continued to spit out the pills when he had the chance, and just kept to himself. He had finally gotten down the Joker's therapy session time perfectly, the same guards every day at the same time. All Bruce had to do was convince one of the guard to take him to the bathroom and everything would fall into place just as it should. However, he had to be sure the guards wouldn't catch on, but knowing the two he usually had outside his cell, they would never think twice.
Unfortunately it wasn't going to happen today. Just as the change of guards started around the time the Joker was brought down the hall towards the therapy room, Bruce was told that he had a visitor. His first, agonizing thought was that it would be Gordon again. When would the commissioner just get that Bruce was not going to be getting out of Arkham any time soon, if ever. The guards cuffed him and dragged him to visitor center, locking him in the room. Bruce didn't look at the glass at first, too afraid to see Gordon's face staring back at him.
Bruce wasn't sure he could stand to see those pleading eyes again. The distraction was not a welcomed one anymore.
He slowly sat down, clasping his hands together and resting them on the counter in front of him. He slowly looked up at, starting with the hands he saw on the other side of the glass, noticing that those were not Jim Gordon's hands at all. Jim had long, slightly worn fingers. These fingers were worked over, callused. Bruce let his eyes trace the slender figure in front of him to to the face he wasn't nearly expecting to see.
“Dick,” Bruce muttered under his breath, not aware he hadn't really said it loud enough to be heard, but the other man grinned at him warmly. After the way they left each other on the younger man's last visit, Bruce didn't know how Dick could be smiling at him at all. Bruce had said some choice words at the time that he regretted later, but by then it was too late to really apologize.
Dick still had his shaggy hair, grown just below his chin and pushed behind his ears. His usually clean-shaved face had grungy looking stubble and his clothes were obviously well warn. Bruce started to shake his head, disbelief clouding his mind. No, you don't need this right now, Bruce. This is not right. Get him out. This, he, is going to ruin everything.
But how he could he turn away the one friend he had left that was most like family to him, the one person who was less likely to judge him right now. Dick was the younger brother he never had, the voice of reason. Why they ever fought, Bruce couldn't really remember anymore. The argument was sound at the time, but looking back it felt pointless and deluded.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce asked, aware that his tone was sharp, and his question could have been taken the wrong way. Dick merely kept his smile.
“I could ask you the same thing, Bruce. But I won't,” Dick answered. He started to drum his fingers on the counter top, looking down at them for a moment before meeting Bruce's gaze again. “I heard rumors that you were in here. Kinda need to come see for myself to believe it.”
“It's not that hard to believe,” Bruce retorted, finding that he had his own smile appearing on his lips. Bruce felt a slight buzz of exhilaration run through his body, he hadn't actually used sarcasm or humor in days, it felt...Good. “I mean, I dress as a giant bat every night. Clearly, I have issues.”
“No worse than the rest of Gotham City, from what I hear,” Dick clasped his hands together and leaned forward towards the glass. “Before this goes any further, I wanted to apologize for leaving the way I did. I might not have agreed with your actions but I do respect them. I'd like to start over, forget it ever happened.”
Bruce had not been expecting that, especially since he was just as much in blame for the situation as Dick had been. Bruce chewed at the inside of the cheek as he let Dick's words sink in. “It won't matter, you know. I'm likely to be in here... forever.” Dick was just too late to be apologizing and wanting to start where they left off. Bruce signed to himself, wishing this had happened months ago instead of now. Why now?
Dick gave Bruce a sly grin, shaking his head. “Nah, not you. I know they'll figure out that you're not really 'crazy'.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at Dick, suddenly aware that perhaps Alfred had sent him. The conversation seemed far to casual and far to convenient. “What do you want, Dick?”
There was a few moments where they just looked at each other, a thick and unsure silence between them. Dick didn't let his expression show if he had any ill emotions towards Bruce just then or not. He nodded slowly, as if understanding.
“I don't know why you're in here, Bruce or what made you think that being in here is the best idea for you. But the Bruce I know from two years ago would never allow this to happen to him,” Dick said quietly, his tone had ring a of disgust in it.
“That Bruce doesn't exist anymore. That Bruce died when he killed two men,” Bruce spat back. He thought by now the rage in the back of his mind would have come forward and let loose, but there wasn't even an inkling or thought to be had. Bruce felt naked and lost without it. He had nothing to back up his actions without it.
“Yeah, I heard about that, too. It wasn't your fault, you know. Sometimes certain things happen that we don't have a lot of control over,” Dick said, keeping a calm demeanor in his voice. “You told me that, actually. Two years ago when I came to visit, right after my parents died. You told me that there was nothing I could have done to save them, that somethings can't be prevented. I'd hate to think you a liar, Bruce.”
The billionaire stared at Dick, a hard unwavering gaze. He kept his jaw locked and tried so hard not to think about two years ago. He had told Dick just that and he believed himself then and he knew that he really should believe himself now. But wasn't this different? Wasn't killing someone just the thing to break the rule? He wasn't sure anymore. Everything he had been so sure of the last week was suddenly being broken down. It's him, Bruce. Get Dick out of here. He's going to ruin everything.
Dick leaned towards the glass near the tiny holes so Bruce could hear him even as he whispered. “Bruce, you did what you had to. You saved a girl's life. Maybe if you had more time to think it would have ended differently, but considering it was so quick, no one can blame you. Why can't you see that?”
So it was true; Dick had been talking to Alfred and possibly Gordon. They sent him here, didn't they? It still didn't explain why Dick would even come if he was still angry with Bruce, so maybe he was here on his own as well. Either way, Bruce knew that talking to Dick any longer was not helping his situation. He had plans and they needed to get done. Maybe if he had heard all this before Arkham things could have been different. You did though, Bruce. From Jim Gordon, from Alfred... everyone told you.
The door behind Bruce opened and the guard came in to grab him. “C'mon, times up.” They took hold of his arms and started to drag him from the room. Bruce was still staring at Dick as he left, and the look on Dick's face looked hopeful, but with a pang of sadness in his features..
No, Bruce. Don't think even think about backing down. This is what we planned for. This has to happen.