Fathers and Sons

"Man's loneliness is but his fear of life." (Eugene O'Neill)

by: Syl Francis

Rating: PG13

Summary: After fourteen-year-old Dick Grayson comes to live at WayneManor, he must cope with loneliness and feelings of rejection from its two seemingly cold inhabitants.

Acknowledgement: I finally read the retcon issue of Robin Annual #4, and must admit that I was shocked at its depiction of Alfred. As far as Bruce goes, I've just about given up any hope that the current Bat-writers will allow him real human feelings. World's Finest #4 was the last straw! I just had to write *something* in response to the travesty that these two issues have made of the inner characters of the two most important men in Dick Grayson's life.

Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome! Copyright 1999

"A plague o' both your houses!" Dick, as Mercutio, cried out. "They have made worm's meat of me . . ." Okay, Grayson, Dick thought, don't overplay it. Die with anger, but with dignity. Remember what Alfred said.

Alfred played on the London stage in his younger days, and his coaching helped Dick to finally nail the pivotal character of Mercutio in his school's production of _Romeo and Juliet_.

Mercutio died.

Dick could hear sobs coming from some of the mothers in the audience.The knowledge that his own mother would never be in an audience during one of his performances brought him a momentary pang of regret.

There was no one left who would ever care one way or another if Dick Grayson performed on the trapeze or in a school play or participated in any extracurricular activity.

Can it, Grayson. At least Alfred made it, he thought. Bruce was in Metropolis; something about someone spying on Superman.

Yeah, Bruce, Dick thought resignedly. The Man of Steel really needs you to fight his battles for him.

How did Bruce put it when he received the invitation addressed to "The Parents of Dick Grayson"?

"I'm not your parent, Dick," Batman said dismissively, not taking his eyes off the Cray monitors. He was intent on discovering the source of acovert satellite surveillance on Superman and didn't have time to discuss school plays.

"I thought you understood that. I'm your mentor . . . your teacher. I'm not your father."

"Sure, I understand, Bruce. My parents are dead. Thanks for the reminder." Dick crumpled the invitation in his hand, then spun on his heel and walked out of the Batcave.

"Yes, Master Bruce," Alfred said quietly. "That was quite a thoughtful reminder. Heaven forbid that Master Dick might ever forget his loss; that he might ever grow to believe that there may be someone here who actually cares about him."

Alfred gave Bruce a bland look devoid of accusation, then he too walked out of the cave.

Bruce stared pensively at Alfred's retreating back, his computer search momentarily forgotten.

As 'Benvolio' dragged Dick offstage, Benvolio whispered, "You were terrific, Dick! I think half the girls in the audience are in love with you!"

Jimmy Trane, one of Dick's class mates, tried to maintain the serious/sadlook of Benvolio, but Dick saw a smile begin to break through. Jimmy had to be the sunniest person in the whole school. He was always smiling.

When they were safely off stage, Dick stood up and shook Jimmy's hand.Jimmy grinned.

"Be grateful you weren't pretty enough to play Juliet!" Jimmy teased. "Or, at least that your voice already changed!"

Dick grinned ruefully in turn.

"Yeah, terrific," Dick said.

The boys attended Gotham City Preparatory, an exclusive all boys' prepschool, which annually put on a Shakespearean production with an all male cast.

Being the new boy at school, Dick figured that he'd be involved in staging or props, but some wag campaigned that Dick was just too pretty to be hidden backstage. Some of the upperclassmen even suggested that Dick play Juliet. Thankfully, the drama coach instead selected aFreshman whose voice hadn't changed yet.

This was Dick's first year at Prep, and he felt largely like anoutsider. Most of the students came from Gotham's most privileged families. They had grown up with money, and took luxury and its accompanying trappings for granted. Dick didn't fit in, and with the exception of Jimmy, he'd made few friends.

Besides, because of his responsibilities as Robin, Dick didn't really have time for extracurricular activities; however, this play was anall-school production, and the entire student body was required to participate.

Furthermore, to assuage the boys' natural reticence in playing women's roles, Mr. Carter, the school's visiting Artist in Residence and actingdrama coach, explained that in Shakespeare's time only males were allowed on stage; therefore, the boys were putting on a realistic Renaissance production.

Dick felt strangely out of kilter, standing here in this place and time. Just last year, he'd been flying on the trapeze, part of a family of aerialists, the Flying Graysons. Now, during the day, he was just another well-scrubbed face in a blue blazer, matching tie, and grey slacks. Sometimes, everything just seemed so unreal.

Then at night, he donned his red, green, and yellow Robin costume, and Dick became the Batman's crime fighting partner, the second half of the Dynamic Duo, Batman and Robin. Suddenly, everything seemed to fall into place.

When Dick first arrived at Wayne Manor, Bruce hadn't been able to enroll him in any of the private schools already in session; there fore, Alfred,the Wayne Manor butler, tutored Dick for the duration of the schoolterm. Of course, Alfred's tutoring included a few subjects that weren't usually included in the standard curriculum.

As Dick watched 'Romeo' kill 'Tybalt' in revenge, his mind raced back several months. He ruefully remembered how *thrilled* Alfred initially felt at being saddled with a kid . .

Dick stood back in the shadows, listening to Bruce and Alfred discuss him; an over whelming sense of loneliness washed over him.

He'd just finished his workout when Alfred and Bruce walked into the cave in the middle of an argument. When Dick realized that he was the subject of the argument, he hid in the gloom afforded by the cave's numerous stalagmites.

"A child, sir?" Alfred asked. "I must tutor a child? But, sir, I must protest! My duties here require the utmost time and dedication. How am Ito find the time to *fit in* a school day as well?"

But Bruce insisted; after all, *he* didn't have the time to teach Dick the ABCs of criminology.

"I have the utmost confidence in you, Alfred," Batman said striding towards the Batmobile. "You teach him the basics . . . forensics, police procedure, that sort of thing . . . I'll concentrate on his physical training. When you say he's ready for Batman's tutoring, I'll takeover."

Batman paused at the driver's side to the Batmobile.

"I'll be back by dawn." With that he climbed into the super-turbocharged Batmobile, slammed the driver's side door, brought up the powerful engine's rpms, and roared out of the Batcave.

They don't want me here, Dick thought. Why am I here anyway?

Dick stepped forward.

"You don't have to spend any time with me, you know," he said. "I'm old enough to take care of myself. I brought down Zucco and his partner,didn't I?"

Gaining momentum, he pointed an angry finger at Alfred.

"I don't *need* you! I don't need *him*! I don't need *any*body!"

Dick threw his towel on the floor.

"I'm leaving. I'm going back to the circus. And you can tell that playboy pal of yours that I don't need his money, either!"

Dick started running up the stairs leading to the Manor.

"Wait! Master Dick, I didn't mean--"

Dick whirled around.

"Yes, you did! And don't try to lie your way out of it! You and your boss made it clear from the start that I'm not welcome here! I don'teven know why he bothered bringing me to this mausoleum! He doesn't want to spend any time with me. He doesn't talk to me! He avoids me everychance he gets!"

Dick paused, angry tears beginning to threaten.

"And you! You made it clear that you hated kids; that you didn't even want to be in the same room with me. I don't know, maybe you think circus people are dirty or something! Or maybe you have something against the Romany . . . You sure wouldn't be the first person to be bigoted against the Rom!"

Alfred looked shocked at the boy's outburst. He was about to protest,but Dick wasn't about to let him defend himself.

"Well, my Mom and Dad were the best people in the world! We Graysons can trace our circus roots all the way back to Renaissance England when the first of our people crossed over from Eastern Europe! I'm proud of my heritage. Maybe we didn't have a lot of money, but what we had was more important. We had each other. We had love . . . something that no one in this frigid house seems to know anything about, least of all your boss!And as for you . . . Never mind; it doesn't matter. I'm outta here. Tell Bruce thanks, but no thanks!"

Dick stalked out of the Batcave and quickly made his way to his room.*His room*! Dick shook his head bitterly. There was nothing to even show that Dick Grayson had been living here for almost ten weeks. He wasn't allowed to move anything, touch anything. His first week, Dick tried to move a portrait of an older couple, Bruce's parents he found out later,and put his own parents' portrait in its place, but Alfred had gone ballistic . . .

"Under *no* circumstances is this portrait to *ever* be moved, do you understand?" Alfred demanded.

He grabbed the picture from Dick's hands and carefully returned it to its place of honor on top of the room's fireplace mantle. There were afew other objects in the room that Alfred then pointed out as being untouchable: a rocking horse and a child's train set.

Dick nodded curtly, his hurt hidden behind an inscrutable mask. When Alfred left the room, Dick took his parents' portrait and carefully placed it back in his carryall.

Afterwards, Dick avoided any unnecessary contact with the Wayne butler,choosing to spend most of his time in the Batcave endlessly training.Eventually, Bruce mentioned school. He had Dick tested and was surprisedby the test results.

"You show an incredibly high IQ, Dick but you also have some serious gaps in your formal education."

Dick dropped his eyes in shame.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. School's tough when you're constantly on the move with the circus. Mom and several of the other performers took turns tutoring the circus kids, but it wasn't the same as attending a regular school."

Dick shrugged his shoulders at the seeming hopelessness of the situation.

"Pop Haly tried to provide us with a certified teacher during the off-season, but a lot of the kids just grew discouraged and gave up without ever finishing their high school equivalency."

"Dick, I promise you that this is not a problem," Bruce said quietly. "Alfred can tutor you, and with hard work and perseverance, you shouldsoon be up to grade level. We can then see about enrolling you at Gotham Prep. The school chancellor is an old family friend, and he understands these things. He says that if you can pass their entrance exam this Spring, then it shouldn't be difficult to have a slot for you in the Fall term."

"Alfred? Bruce, I don't think that that's such a good idea. I mean, he doesn't really like kids, you know." Dick wanted to add, "He doesn't like me."

"Who, Alfred? Are you kidding? Dick, Alfred raised me! Of course, he likes kids. Alfred just doesn't like change. He'll come around, don't worry."

They were suddenly interrupted.

"Bruuu-uce!" A stunning blonde in a tennis outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination appeared at the door to the study. "Bruce," she said pouting. "I've been waiting all alone for almost ten minutes. Really! I thought you loved me!"

She smiled at Dick.

"Oh, Brucie, who is your handsome young friend? I didn't know you had a little brother!" She walked up to Dick. "Hi, gorgeous! I'm Candy Sweet .. . I'm a model. And you are?"

"Uh, I'm Dick, uh, Grayson. Uh, I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Sweet," Dick mumbled, blushing furiously.

"Oh, please, call me Candy. In fact," she smiled, running her hand suggestively through Dick's hair, "when you're about four years older,call me anytime!"

If Dick blushed before in embarrassment, he'd reached the point of a full-body flush. He'd *never* had a girl, much less a *lady*, act this way around him. He looked desperately at Bruce for help.

The look of cold fury that crossed Bruce's countenance would have stopped the Joker in his tracks! Bruce reached for Candy's wrist, then surprisingly gently, but firmly, he removed her hand from his ward's hair.

Dick gave his guardian a grateful smile.

Oblivious to the silent messages being passed between Bruce and Dick,Candy turned to Bruce, and pouting again, she took her free hand and ranit up his arm.

"Bruce, how long are you going to leave me outside, all alone?"

Dick watched fascinated as Bruce transformed from the man he'd been growing to know and respect to playboy Bruce Wayne.

"Candy, darling, forgive me!" Bruce said, smiling vacuously. "I didn't realize I'd been neglecting you. Dick, if you'll excuse us?"

Dick gave Bruce what looked more like a grimace than a polite smile. When Bruce and Candy walked out, Dick stared after them for a few more minutes.

Bruce's earlier statement that Alfred raised him echoed in Dick's mind. At the time, he'd wondered why . . .

. . . It didn't matter any more, Dick thought looking around the sterile bedroom. He heard that the Haly Circus was in Keystone City. That's where he was going. He packed the few things that he'd had with him when he arrived a few months ago, an extra pair of jeans, a couple of old tee shirts that had seen better days, underwear, and socks. Dick wouldn't take anything that *they* had bought him.

Dick didn't want any reminders of his stay here. He didn't want to be reminded of people who pretended to want to be your friend, but who couldn't stand to be in the same room with you. He--

"Master Dick."

Dick froze. Refusing to turn, he continued stuffing his carryall.

"Master Dick, please," Alfred's voice was quietly pleading. "At least give me a chance to explain. I know that I've behaved abominably, and I deserve your contempt, but please, allow me a chance to make amends."

"Why?" Dick whirled around. "You afraid your job might be on the line,Alfie? Don't worry. I doubt Brucie-boy will even *notice* I'm gone. Besides, with me outta the way, everything here will return to*normal*--whatever the Hell *normal* is around here!"

Alfred walked towards Dick and gently tried to pry his carryall from him. Dick refused to release his grip at first, but finally, reluctantlylet go and sat down on the bed.

Alfred began to remove the few items that Dick carelessly tossed into the carryall; he then began to fold each piece of clothing carefully.Eventually, his hand came across something smooth and hard wedged intoan inside pocket. Alfred tugged gently and pulled it out. It was a framed picture of Dick and his parents in their Flying Graysons' outfits.

Alfred immediately realized that this portrait was why Dick had removedthe Waynes' photograph all those weeks ago. The Wayne butler felt anoverwhelming sense of loss and shame wash over him.

"I know that I don't deserve a second chance, Master Dick. I admit thatI resented your presence."

Dick jumped up suddenly.

"Well, don't worry, Alf! You won't have to resent my presence any more!"

"Please, Master Dick. Sit down. Allow me a chance to speak. Then if you still wish to leave, I shan't attempt to stop you. In fact, I shall drive you to the nearest airport if you should wish it."

Dick looked at Alfred suspiciously. Finally, he nodded and sat backdown.

"As I said, young sir . . . I *did* resent your presence. You see, since Master Bruce was about six, it has only been he and I. Once he lost hisparents, I was all he had. He's been like a son to me. I've seen to hisevery need, looked after him, and assisted him when he plunged into this terrible venture."

Dick interrupted.

"I don't understand. Did Bruce lose *his* parents when he was a kid? What happened?"

"It was a terrible night, Master Dick. Master Bruce and his parents were leaving a movie theater. Doctor Wayne had given me the night off, so I wasn't waiting for them when they emerged. He'd parked the car about a block away; the family had but a short walk to reach it. It was a clear night, and they were walking in a safe neighborhood."

Alfred shook his head in remembered pain.

"Apparently, seemingly out of no where, a gunman appeared and demanded that Doctor Wayne give him all of his money. The doctor refused, of course, and attempted to overcome the villain. But the gunman was too quick, and he shot Doctor Wayne through the heart. He must've died instantly. Then, he killed poor Mrs. Wayne. For some reason he spared young Master Bruce, but the young master was never the same afterwards."

Alfred paused, overcome by the pain and hurt that his young charge had experienced that night and every night since then.

"He was in shock for almost six months. He'd stare for hours at a time, not speaking. I had to force him to eat, otherwise his meals would sit untouched. I was afraid that I'd lost him, too. Thank God, he finally came out of his fugue. One night, I heard him crying in his sleep; whenI woke him up, he clung to me for several minutes crying. He'd finally remembered."

Alfred shook his head. Dick listened fascinated, feeling strangely sorry for a little boy that he'd never met.

"But he was never the same, Master Dick. Before, Master Bruce had been such a happy child . . . always laughing, running through the house,pulling boyish pranks on his father. Afterwards . . . he crept silently through the house; he sat for hours in the study looking at his parents' portrait. He still forgot to eat sometimes, so I was forced to continuously remind him."

Alfred looked intently at Dick.

"When he witnessed your parents' murder, it must've all come back to him. He saw him self in you, Master Dick. Don't think for an instant that he doesn't want you here. He does, but he doesn't know how to show it."

When Alfred said this, Dick suddenly recalled the incident with Candy. That was the last time Dick could remember seeing her at the Manor. Infact, now that he thought about it, Dick realized that that was the last time that *any* of Bruce's bubble-headed dates visited here.

Did Bruce stop inviting them in order to protect his ward from any further inappropriate advances? Was this his way, as Alfred put it, of *showing* Dick how he felt? Dick wished he could be sure; he wished Bruce would talk to him like his Dad used to.

He turned his attention to Alfred who was still talking.

"If Master Bruce seems to be avoiding you, it's because when he sees you, he sees himself. When he sees you suffering, he relives his own pain."

Alfred's eyes dropped in shame.

"That's why I resented you, young sir. I couldn't bear the thought of Master Bruce being forced to relive that past pain all over again. I saw the same haunted look in your eyes that I'd seen in young Master Bruce. I couldn't bear to see it all over again; to see Master Bruce suffering again. But I was wrong, Master Dick, to resent you. I should've been trying to help you with your pain, instead, I caused you even more."

Alfred slowly met Dick's eyes.

"Please, young sir, could you find it in your heart to forgive a foolish old man? This house *is* cold, Master Dick. It's forgotten how to love. I think that you are exactly what this house needs to become a real home again. Master Dick, I don't pretend to know everything, but I *do* know this: Master Bruce needs you. As much as you need a home and someone to love you, he needs someone to care for. Someone to give him hope; someone to keep him sane. I believe that *you* are that someone, Master Dick. Please, will you reconsider remaining here?"

Dick listened to Alfred's sad tale of a lonely little boy who never seemed to have grown up. As young as Dick was, he instinctively knew that the Dark Knight, the man whom he had been steadily growing to love and respect, was still that little traumatized boy who'd witnessed his parents' murder. That boy had shut himself off from the rest of world and protected himself with this aura of mystery. He'd been hurt by the badman when he was a boy, now he was in turn hurting all the badmen.

Reaching a decision, Dick nodded his head. Alfred smiled gratefully. Man and boy stood then and shook hands. They each knew that they'd made asilent pact between them to protect the one man whom they each had grown to love in their own way.

Eventually, Dick and Alfred became friends. In fact, Alfred became Dick's best friend and confidant . . .

Part 2>>

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