The talk didn't go as well as Dick was expecting. He was, to his horrified surprise, way too optimistic on the outcome of Jason and Tim's interaction. It had started off civil, Dick attempting to soothe the dangerous tenseness by placing a comforting hand to Tim's knee and offered Jason a gentle smile from across the small coffee table that separated them. Dick informed Tim how he came across Red Hood and tried to overlook the flinch Tim made as Jason shuffled uncomfortably at being mentioned. Unfortunately, Jason noticed and made a snarky comment that set off a chain reaction. Tim snapped back with a backhanded remark, which inevitably led to vehement arguing between the two. Dick was unable to get a word in, their hurtful bites of words ended with Tim pouncing from his seat, throwing Dick's constricting hand off, and hurling himself over the coffee table. He crashed heavily into Jason, toppling them both over the back of the sofa.
"I thought Barbara was dead!" Tim snarled as he tried to get a punch in with every sentence he finished. "Gotham suffered because of you! Bruce is gone because of you! Alfred is gone because of you!"
Dick saw Jason's demeanour change immediately at the mention of the Wayne butler. He easily threw Tim off and across the room with a savage roar of rage. He jumped to his feet and pulled his pistol from his holster and pointed it at Tim. Dick gasped and flung himself between them, putting his hands up in surrender, ignoring the knot that swiftly settled in his stomach.
"Alfred's death is on no one but Bruce!" He growled with the ferocity of a starved tiger being teased with hanging food just out of reach.
"Jason put the gun down." He tried to sway him with a quiet voice. "Don't do something you'll regret."
"Regret?!" Jason sneered and pushed the gun at Dick's over-beating chest. "Don't talk to me about regret. You don't think I wish things had ended differently? I had plans to make Bruce suffer, to make him feel what I felt trapped in that wing with..." Jason scoffed and pulled the gun away in frustration.
"You wanted to kill him," Tim muttered from behind Dick, holding his side in pain.
"Yeah, so what if I did?" Jason snapped. "Neither of you have any idea what I went through!"
"We don't, no." Dick shook his head in agreement and spread his hand out at his side, indicating for Tim to be quiet. "We can't even imagine what Joker did to you. Bruce was devastated when he was sent the video of you getting shot. He had spent every day searching high and low for you."
"Stop trying to make me feel guilty for trying to rectify what Bruce let happen." Jason glared wildly, pushing the barrel of his gun back onto Dick's chest. Dick allowed his outer self to remain unaffected, while inside, his stomach had twisted further, a sickening feeling rapidly growing.
"I'm not," Dick assured Jason. "You had your reasons and I won't criticize you for them. I just need you to know that Bruce never gave up on you, he never forgot you."
Jason paused, searching Dick's features for signs of deceit, finger flexing on the gun's trigger. Dick held his breath and dared not look away from the raged filled eyes, glaring holes through him, waiting for the slip up that would never come.
"He used to call me Jason," Tim commented, groaning as he rose to his feet. "By accident, but I couldn't blame him."
"Please Jason." Dick lifted his arm and gently encased the gun equipped hand with his own. "Let us earn your trust again."
Jason blinked at Dick, suddenly overwhelmed. His hand began to shake uncontrollably and Dick coaxed the gun out of his hand and placed it on the table out of his reach. Dick tenderly ran his fingers up and down Jason's forearm, ensuring he had a comforting presence as he tried to make sense of everything he had been told. Tim hissed in pain and Dick couldn't hold back his sigh of relief.
"Tim, go sit down, I'll take a look," Dick told him and turned his attention back to Jason. "How are you feeling Little Wing?"
"Little Wing?" Jason seemed to mellow at the nickname and let out a breathy noise of amusement. A gentle smirk graced his lips as he returned his gaze to Dick. "I haven't heard that in a long time."
"What's that Little Wing?" Dick asked with a warm teasing smile, running his fingers across Jason's shoulders. "You want to get the medical supplies from the bathroom? That's so nice of you Little Wing."
"What? No, I-" Jason started and clenched his jaw as Dick hummed loudly in protest and moved away to squat in front of Tim. Dick swatted Tim's hands away from pulling his shirt up, holding it himself and inspecting the aggravated wound.
"You opened the stitches." Dick reprimanded Tim, who huffed and averted his eye in disobedience. Dick smiled at that and returned to examining the damage. The medical supply box was thrust into his vision and Dick took the box in thanks. Jason scrunched his features in reply and returned to sitting where he had been before Tim attacked him. Dick removed some twine and threaded it with a sterile needle. "Alright, be brave Babybird."
"Dick...I'm not a child." Tim rebuked before he gasped and squeezed his features together in pain as Dick began to stitch him back together. The quiet snigger of pleased laughter from Jason had Dick relaxing his shoulders. He finished patching Tim and threw the needle and excess thread into the bin.
"There, good as new." Dick beamed, wiping the stains of blood from his fingers on a cloth. "I think Alfred would approve."
Tim smiled sadly and nodded. "Yeah Dick, he'd be proud."
"Tim?" Dick bit the inside of his cheek as he thought of out to phrase the question. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you on Halloween. For Barbara, for Bruce," He looked over his shoulder briefly. "For Jason. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right. But I need you to tell me everything about that night. I only have bits and pieces."
"You don't have to apologise Dick." Tim insisted rather quickly and winced as he shifted positions. "Bruce didn't want any help, not even from me."
"I don't know anything that happened in the studios, I retrieved what I could from the computer. But I haven't had time to look it over yet." Dick told him.
"Oh..." Tim looked up across to Jason, who rose a confused brow at him. "So, you don't know?"
"Don't know what?" Jason leaned forward and Dick gazed down at the ground in sorrow.
"Bruce was infected with Joker's blood," Tim told them, tilting his head over to Dick in suspicion. "When did you find out?"
"Only a few hours ago, I connected the dots and asked Harley," Dick confessed and pinched his brow with his fingers. "I can't believe he didn't tell me."
"I think Alfred was the only one who knew. But even then, I don't think he knew how far along Bruce's infection was." Tim said and clenched his jaw. "He locked me in the cell he had made for himself and told me Barbara was dead..."
"Jeez, what the fuck?" Jason scoffed in disbelief. "Do you see? He's a crippling dictator. The mission has always come first."
"What were you doing down there with the infected?" Dick dismissed Jason's comment. Tim slouched forward and wiped his tired eyes.
"Trying to synthesis a cure. Henry didn't have symptoms, we thought he was immune." Tim tried to defend their process. "But he was delaying. He hacked our security, let Harley inside. He shot the others and himself after realising Bruce was infected."
Dick ran a hand through his hair as he digested what Tim had divulged. So, Bruce had definitely been infected, for how long was quickly established through creating a timeline. Joker had become sick after the events in the asylum. Bruce had tracked him to Arkham City. That was around six months ago. Dick recalled after swinging by one night, that Bruce had almost died. He had survived but Joker had not. Alfred had assured him that Bruce was perfectly healthy.
But that was a lie. Whether Alfred had truly believed Bruce was okay or had lied to give Bruce more time to figure out a cure, Dick was now officially exasperated. He had shown no signs of succumbing to Joker's influence until Halloween. So, what had ensued for the clown to finally push his way forward and begin to cloud Batman's mind?
"When was the first time Batman was exposed to Scarecrow's toxin that night?" Dick asked suddenly in the awkward silence he hadn't known was there. Tim hummed in thought and Jason leaned back and laid his arms on the back of the sofa as he answered.
"Ace Chemicals. He was attempting to decrease the blast radius of the first toxin explosion." He explained and scratched his cheek in reflection. "Yeah, I remember because that was the first time we met and I so desperately wanted to put a bullet between his eyes."
Dick unheeded Jason's reference and recollected the very first moment Batman had faltered. The communication silence from him as Alfred begged him to leave before he lost his life. It had only been for a moment, but that had to have been the trigger.
"How close were you to a cure?" Dick asked Tim.
"I thought I was close." Tim droned in annoyance. "I spent months down there, but it was all pointless. What I was working on is contaminated."
"Do you think you can still synthesis one?" Dick came to sit beside his brother and laid a comforting hand to his shoulder, lightly rubbing circles in his shoulder blade.
"I mean, maybe," Tim said in uncertainty and sucked his teeth in frustration. "There's no guarantee."
"Hey, let's forget it for now." Dick hummed soothingly and looked to the clock on the far wall. "It's late. I have to meet Lucius in a few hours."
"Dick, there must be something I can do." Tim groaned quietly as Dick helped him to his feet. "Please, I just feel utterly useless."
"Lucius has all this paperwork I'm supposed to look over. I think you might actually have the eyes and brains for that." Dick replied, voice echoing down the hall as he led Tim to the bedroom. "I'll bring it back with me."
"Fine." Tim huffed in discontent as he moved passed his brother and into the bedroom. Dick grabbed his wrist and called to him softly.
"You'll be back on your feet in a couple of days." He promised. Tim nodded once in thanks and they shared a small smile before Tim shut the door.
Dick immediately let his shoulders sag and bowed his head in exhaustion. He shuffled back towards the living area, calling Jason's name tiredly. He felt his heart sink when he felt the light breeze of the open veranda door and turned to see a vacant sofa where Jason had been moments before.
***
Sleep eluded Dick for hours before he managed to linger into a light REM cycle. He woke to his phone alarm an hour later, groaning drowsily as he slipped off the sofa onto the floor. Dick rose and staggered to the bathroom, showering quickly and brushing his teeth. He heard Tim wake, shuffling down the hall towards the kitchen. When Dick made his presence, he could barely hold back his affections when his brother offered him a mug of coffee. They shared a small easy breakfast before Dick had to leave. He grabbed his keys and yawned as he trudged to the door.
"Hey, call me if you need anything," Tim called out, leaning against the wall. Dick chuckled and nodded.
"Will do, Timbo. Same for you."
Dick headed to Wayne Enterprises, managing to sneak past the media presence camped outside and headed up to Lucius's office. He greeted Lucius's receptionist before knocking lightly on the door and letting himself inside.
"Morning Lucius." He greeted with a drained smile. The CEO rose his head and smiled back in greeting.
"Good morning Richard. I hear you had a busy evening." He spoke and Dick scoffed in derision.
"You don't know the half of it." Dick approached the desk and tilted his head in question. "So, what's on the agenda today?"
"Well, I have managed to keep the Wayne Enterprises board members appeased for the time being," Lucius informed Dick and motioned to the large pile of documents that had been haunting Dick ever since he first laid eyes on them. "Though I will need you to go through these. We have put them off long enough."
"Ah, yeah, about that..." Dick smiled mischievously and laid his hands behind his head. "Tim's been released from the hospital and he has so kindly offered to look through them for us."
"What great news," Lucius replied and gave Dick a knowing gaze. "Though I expect he had some influence into being buried in paperwork."
"You know me, Lucius. I'm an influential mastermind." He laughed lightly.
"You have some more interviews today, but there is a more pressing matter to attend to," Lucius informed Dick. "You recall me speaking of the run-in with Hush?"
"Of course," Dick nodded and he pointed towards the floor and covered half his mouth as he continued to speak in a rushed whisper. "Is he still down there?"
"Yes Richard, though I can assure you he cannot hear us." Lucius was amused by the young man's antics. Dick grinned and stood.
"I guess we better call the GCPD to come pick him up." He suggested and Lucius nodded in agreement.
"I will put the call in. Would you be ever so kind as to fetch him?" The CEO asked. Dick pursed his lips and shrugged in acknowledgement before he headed back to the elevator. He pushed the corresponding number and waited patiently with folded arms for the quiet 'ding' to confirm his arrival.
He walked forward as the doors opened and rose a brow in awe. This place was shiny, unused. Dick had been quite surprised when Lucius had told him that there were jail cells in the Wayne Enterprises schematics.
"Who's there?"
Dick faltered in his steps, stopping when he heard Hush speak. He walked around the corner and felt his breath leave him when he came face to face with Thomas Elliot. A spitting image of Bruce Wayne, if not for the large gash to his cheek. The sinister smirk that spread over the man's lips had Dick gulping.
"Richard Grayson," Thomas stated the fact and stood, holding his arm in support. "To what do I owe this fortunate pleasure?"
"We've called the police, they're on their way to collect you," Dick responded, slowly becoming more confident as he mentally pointed out the significant differences between him and the real Bruce Wayne.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Thomas tittered, arrogant in thinking he had the upper hand. "As soon as I'm released into their custody, I'll let the world know Bruce Wayne is Batman."
Dick was pleased when Thomas was livid at his reaction of a sigh of disappointment and a roll of his eyes. Dick stalked towards the cell with an indifference shrug.
"You're really out of the loop down here, huh?" Dick hummed and leaned against the glass and folded his arms before letting Thomas know what happened. "Scarecrow stole your glory. Everyone knows. Bruce is gone, Batman's dead."
Thomas seemed to freeze and he stared at Dick in shock.
"What? No!" Thomas's moment of clarity shattered as he began to claw the glass with his shackled hands. "He was mine to destroy!"
Dick moved away and typed in the number to open the cell. He subdued Thomas swiftly as the man ran towards him to attack. Dick dragged him towards the elevator and gazed in sorrow at the familiar face that would no longer be a permanent feature in Dick's life. When the elevator doors opened Dick jolted in surprise to see Lucius, Aaron Cash and a few other officers in front of him. They all glanced at the man curled in the corner unconscious before looking back at Dick.
"One Thomas Elliot," Dick announced and let the officers' pass. Dick held his arm as Thomas was dragged away, and frowned when Cash reprimanded him.
"You should have waited for us. He could have attacked you."
"Yeah, sorry." Dick easily lied and glared at the floor. "It's just he looked so much like Bruce. I miss him."
"We all do," Cash gently shook Dick's shoulder in condolences. "Don't worry, he'll be brought to justice, they all will."
"Thanks, Aaron." Dick smiled in appreciation and waved goodbye as they left.
"Perfect acting as usual Richard." Lucius complimented and Dick hummed in affirmation, trying to rid the vicious smirk in relation to the man who raised him.