Who You Can Still Be - Batjokes

III

With a light whistle on his lips, Jack swung his legs out of bed the next morning, the sunshine on his face a welcomed glimmer of positivity and strength. He'd need a lot of that today, especially when he'd head out to finally apply for his new, official name after Bruce's reaction to it last night was the last thing needed to provide him with all the confidence to step up for who he really was.
With a yawn, he poured milk over his cereals and while giving them a moment to soak in, he headed out to grab the daily newspaper. Not that he ever subscribed to the Gotham Gazette but his tenant never read his so Jack thought why the effort if a bit of pickpocketing's still in his veins. Leaning back in his chair with his feet resting on top the one next to him, he folded open the thin, slightly wet sheets with one hand and shoved a spoon of cereal in his mouth with the other, only to spit everything back out as he read the title page's article. He swallowed harshly, "Oh shit!"

"Master Bruce?"
Bruce was deep in his dreams as suddenly a concerned voice spoke softly from afar. Bruce turned around but couldn't find its source, he ran down a long corridor, it was dark and narrow, he couldn't see where he was going, didn't know how he got here and didn't even know why he was running, though he did like his life depended on it.
Suddenly someone grabbed him, tight, held him, shook him but Bruce couldn't shake the old hand off until his eyes shot open and he sat up wide awake in his bed with pearls of sweat streaming down his face as he gasped for air. Disoriented, he looked to his right where his Butler who by now had removed his hand from his master, gave him a concerned look.
"What time is it?", the billionaire gasped and searched for a watch.
"It is ten in the morning, Sir. The newspaper just arrived-"
"Why are you waking me up this early?", he then groaned tiredly, though his racing heart would never let him return to his dreams. Whether that was good or bad wasn't clear to Bruce at the time.
"My apologies, Sir, but we have an unexpected guest and it's urgent. You better get dressed and meet him in the dinning room."
Still too confused to protest, Bruce just swung himself out of bed, threw on the next best suit he could find and jogged down the stairs after he couldn't convince himself to the hundred pushups he ought to do every morning. As he regained his consciousness and sharp mind, he felt something was strangely off but remained clueless until he passed the kitchen and walked in on loud chatter on the other side of the door to the dining room.
Both voices sounded familiar, the one he'd hear every morning and the other one.. it belonged to no other than "Dick?"
The billionaire stood perplexed in the doorstep as his surrogate son, now known as Nightwing, held up a seemingly important piece of paper almost into Alfred's face, his own full of rage and confusion. As he spotted Bruce by the door, it was like his anger multiplied by a thousand times.

"Bruce!", the youngster yelled at him without hesitating any second, the shadow falling onto him adding to his sinister appearance primarily given by the infuriated tone of his voice.
He stomped closer to the still clueless but highly alarmed Vigilante until he stepped so close, he almost stood on his foot while his fists clenched around a newspaper article which he held up high, so close that the heavy breaths of the man in front of him sent unpleasant shivers down Bruce's spine and he gulped lightly.
"Tell me this isn't true!"
The excitement of seeing Dick for the first time in months was already beyond gone, however as he read the title "Billionaire playboy romantically engaged with Clown Prince of Crime?!", all thoughts in his head silenced like sucked into a black hole as he stared at the photo beneath the title in disbelief.
There he was in the back of Jack's building complex, drenched in snow, lying on the ground with his hands in a deep sea of green curls and his lips right against the pale clown's red grin. With shock he pinned his eyes from the image to his son, then at Alfred and then back at Dick, not sure what to say or even what to believe.
"Dick-"
"Bruce, tell me this isn't true!"
"I don't-", Bruce protested loudly but stopped mid sentence, unable to explain himself. His son had frozen and stared at him impatiently.
"I'm sorry", he then spoke defeatedly with an apologetic look on his face, though he was too ashamed to look his son directly in the eyes. He knew he wasn't to blame here, no one was when falling in love and yet, Bruce couldn't help it, he blamed himself for giving into his emotions rather than hold the Joker responsible for his crimes. If he could, he would close his eyes from the truth for the rest of his life, that his and Joker's relationship would have consequences one day because though the past is no more, it once was. "Our relationship, it's fatal", Batman had spoken to Joker many years back and to some extinct, maybe that was still true. But Bruce knew only too well that he didn't have the luxury of being able to forget, however so much time had passed since then, 'he paid, didn't he? But could it ever be enough?', he wondered.
The rage on Dick's face fell instantly as he stared at Bruce with a blank expression.
"But let me explain-"
"What's there to explain?", he huffed ironically, almost laughing.
"Hey, you wanna fuck a guy? Fine by me! Let it be the clown prince of crime, sure! But don't you ever, ever underestimate that slickly son of a gun, you hear me? You'd get us all killed in the end."
"I understand that you're angry but you need to get a hold of yourself"
"Don't try to lecture me now! Like, do you even listen to yourself? You're the man who taught me justice, who taught me that every criminal out there will serve the right punishment for their doings. And why is that so? Because we are out there every night despite love, rage, ego! We're their last protection, you for Christ's sake are their symbol of hope! Is that the same man I see here, right here, kissing that fucking clown who murdered and manipulated, tortured and maddened hundreds of people?
You're being a hypocrite and it's sickening!"
He screamed until his voice would crack, face go red and veins pulse with rage, he crumbled the paper and threw it across the room.
"Dick, I know what this looks like but he's not that guy anymore. I've kept him here and helped him, he changed, he's a better man now and I can prove it."
The younger one's head fell within an instant, a sigh of disappointment escaping his lips.
"No Bruce", he spoke.
"You're the one who's changed"
With that, he left the room and strolled down the corridors.
"Where are you going?", Bruce only dared to ask as he knew Dick was too far away to try and yell again.
"I'll be staying in my old room for a while, someone's gotta be here when the clown snaps again"
"Dick-", Bruce tried to reason but was cut off by the door thrown shut and he found himself alone on the long, cold hallway.