Dick Grayson stared at the text on his phone.
‘Hey, u wanna hang out @ the mall soon? W/me?’
The sender was Wally West, the number was 417-555-1516.[1] Sure, Dick would love to hang out with Wally anytime, anywhere, but there was the matter of secret identities and the fact that Dick wasn’t supposed to have told Wally his. Maybe some time when Bruce was away; this was happening more and more often recently. League missions, Wayne Tech meetings, over-seas business trips, more League missions, patrols which Dick wasn’t allowed on – the list went on. Bruce was currently gone on another League mission at the moment, but would be back either later that night or the next day. It was already past seven, though, and would be too late for him and Wally to meet that day, besides the fact that Bruce could return any minute.
Bruce had been keeping a closer eye on him than ever before, what with the identity thing and all. After interrogating the Maskeys, Batman had found that they did, indeed, claim that their boss was working for something called Cadmus, but that was all they knew. Like usual. Artemis, now a member of the Team, though less liked by a certain speedster than Robin would have hoped, was still grilling him for information on Cadmus and through that, they’d grown to be friends. It was odd, to say the least. Nothing like a couple near death experiences to bring two people closer together, not to mention one of the those experiences resulting from fighting each other.
The rest of the Team didn’t get along with the archer as well as the young vigilante did. Kid Flash especially. Those two hated each other from the beginning, which only got Robin caught in the middle. Not that it mattered much to him. If his two friends hated each other, then they could deal with that problem themselves. Artemis’ first mission hadn’t been a great start, but Robin knew that they had been fighting her sister so it was to be expected. It hadn’t left the greatest impression on the Team, but they’d accepted her none the less, though Wally had done so rather grudgingly.
Dick rolled back onto his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he heard his remaining summer homework crinkle under his back. He only had one more day of summer school and then he’d have almost three weeks off until school started officially. Wow, three weeks of summer as compared to nearly three months. Why was his life so hard?
“Master Richard.” Alfred’s voice crackled through intercom. “Miss Barbara’s on the phone – she wishes to talk with you.” Barbara? Hmm. “She’s sounds very distraught.”
“Kay, Alfie, be right down.” Barbara, calling him, on the main phone, sounding distraught?
Dick rolled off the bed onto his feet and headed for the stairs, walking down them briskly and taking the phone from Alfred who was waiting at the bottom. He put the phone to his ear, letting his “Hello?” travel through the mouthpiece. He heard what sounded like gasping, or possibly sobbing, on the other end before a muffled sounding: “Hi, Dick” carried to his ear.
“Barbara,” Dick exclaimed, walking over and sitting on the bottom step of the marble staircase. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“Y-yes.” Came a gasp, followed by a near-silent sobs.
“W-what happened?” Dick nearly shouted, half-rising from his sitting position, his left hand, the one not holding the phone, clenching into a fist.
“I-it’s not like that.” It was whispered, barely audible.
Dick sat down again, relaxing slighting as he realized no one had physically hurt Barbara. “Something bad happened, didn’t it Babs?” He asked, careful to keep his voice gentle. Another sob, this one sounding like it meant ‘yes’.
“Something happened to someone you care about?” He asked, knowing he was treading on careful ground.
“Y-yes. My m-m-mom. Sh-she died.”
Dick nearly dropped the phone. Barbara’s mom had…died? He felt his breath catch, his heart beat quicken. Not this, not again… not Barbara… he was Robin now… not again… not again….
“I-it… there was a car… the man, h-he hit her…. D-Dick, she’s gone… I-I don’t kn-kn-know what to do…” Sobbing, desperate gasps. “M-my dad… he won’t… he just… I-I don’t understand w-what…… D-Dick I-” Tears, heartbroken tears. “I c-called you b-because I thought… I thought y-you wou-would underst-stand. D-Dick, p-please, I-I-”
Dick shook himself out of stupor. “Barbara, I-I’m so sorry. I- do you wanna come over? To talk about it, or to just-”
“Y-yes.”
“Okay, uh,” Dick glanced up at Alfred and the butler nodded, turning and heading for the entranceway. “Alfred’ll pick you up in like fifteen minutes, okay?”
More sniffling, a mumbled “Okay” and then: “Th-thank you.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll uh, see you in a half an hour then.” Sniffles. “Hey, you’ll be okay, alright? Just hang on, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. I’m gonna hang up now, okay? Alfred’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
Dick took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He was in shock, his body unresponsive as he tried to get up. Barbara’s mom was dead… dead. Just like – no, don’t think about that, not now. Dick slowly stood up, setting the phone on the step as he slowly climbed the stairs, not really paying attention to where he was going. He knew he needed to get his act together, for Barbara, but for some reason, he just couldn’t. It was her mom, why was he taking it so hard? He’d never even met her mom. But Barbara had always talked about her, her and Barbara’s brother in Chicago…. Maybe this was just hitting too close to home for him.
When Dick looked up, he found himself in his room again. He slowly shuffled over to his bed, sitting down on the edge and staring at the wall above his desk, his eyes wandering over the smooth, white walls, over the picture of himself holding a giant golden trophy (he hadn’t really wanted that picture in his room, but Alfred had insisted), finally coming to rest on the largest adornment: and old circus poster. The title was The Flying Graysons and there was a picture of a family of six, all dressed in identical uniforms, flying through the air with the night sky above them and a circus tent below them.
It was an old poster, one probably nearly impossible to find now, and was slightly worn around the edges, but that hardly mattered. He’d received the poster shortly after the ‘incident’, he refused to call an accident, from one of the performers at the circus. He hadn’t paid much attention to who it had been at the time – he’d been too busy crying in a corner, trying not to be noticed – but whoever it was, he was eternally grateful to that person. He’d kept the poster by his bed once he’d been moved to the Juvenile Detention Center and then transferred it to a spot next to his new bed once he’d moved into Wayne Manor.
Over the years, the fact that the family was flying above the circus tent had come to mean so much to him. To him it meant that the Flying Graysons were so much more than a circus act and that they did fly, and still flew, higher than any circus tent could ever be. It meant that he, Dick Grayson, wasn’t defined by the circus, that it was only a part of his life - that he now flew so much higher than the circus ever was. The circus would always remain a part of his life, but only as a memory.
Looking at the poster now, with Barbara in mind, he remembered clearly the pain of losing it all. The heartache he felt after it finally sunk in that his family was gone, forever gone from the earth. The complete shattering he’d felt when they’d fallen, when he’d heard them crunch on the ground, when he’d looked upon his mother and father in death, their bodies distorted in ways that even acrobats couldn’t. It had been almost too much, too much for him. At that moment he’d wanted to fall too, to join his family in death, so he wouldn’t have to be alone. He’d nearly shattered so utterly completely that there was no hope of ever picking up the pieces, of ever being whole again.
But he’d managed to move on. He’d managed to gather up the pieces, with help, and rebuild himself. Sure, it wasn’t as perfect as before, and there were cracks and lines and a few gaping holes that hadn’t been there before, but those were what defined him. Those were what made him himself. In time, some of the holes had filled up slightly and only chinks remained, but those chinks defined him too. He hadn’t understood why – he still didn’t understand why, and maybe he never would, but every day he was seeing that maybe, maybe, because of what had happened, he’d be able to change something, to change someone, to save someone. Maybe, because of what happened, he’d be able to save Barbara in the same way Bruce had saved him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason, somewhere. A reason that he’d had to lose everything, to fall apart so completely only to have to put himself back together again. Maybe, just maybe, he’d been put back together better than he’d been before. Maybe, only now, cracks, lines and all, was he capable of doing what he was doing. Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason.
But maybe there didn’t have to be.
Dick sighed, hands between his legs as he stared at his old life, hanging on the wall. Barbara would be there soon and she’d need Dick together, in one piece, to help her pick up her own pieces. He had to hold himself together for her. He stood up, sending one last glance at his past, before running a hand through his hair and walking slowly to his door, pausing at the doorway to compose himself before leaving, shutting the door softly behind him. He was in one piece - or much of one piece as he could ever be with pieces of himself missing. Chinks in his armor that were missing….
He heard Alfred open the door and the sound of an umbrella closing, heard quiet sniffling and a “Thank you” as he made his way down the stairs once more, careful to move slow and gentle, cause this wasn’t a fast, happy time. He watched as Barbara looked up at him, tears glistening in her shining eyes and he moved to her, his heart aching in time with hers. When he reached her, he drew her into a hug, letting her rest her head on his shoulder as he quietly whispered:
“I’m so sorry, Barbara.”
They stayed like that for an immeasurable amount of time, Dick’s face buried in Barbara’s hair as she cried softly, her tears falling onto his sweatshirt hood. His hands gripped her back tightly, showing her that he was there for her, that he understood what she was feeling. Her arms were around his neck, her face on his shoulder. They just stood, neither saying a word as time passed around them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Barbara pulled away and turned her head, wiping at her eyes with her jacket sleeve. She sniffled and attempted a smile, her eyes were red and tear tracks painted her cheeks. Dick gave her a soft smile in return.
“Come on, let’s go to my room. Alfred might even bring us cookies.”
Barbara nodded and Dick took her hand and gently pulled her up the stairs, keeping his eyes kind. Once they reached his room, he brought her over to his bed and sat down beside her, his eyes never leaving her face. They sat like that for a long time, Barbara’s eyes wandering around his room as the boy watched her, never saying a word. Then the redhead’s eyes came to rest on his poster and she smiled slightly, her gaze drifting over the six figures, focusing finally on the smallest one.
“H-how did you do it?” Her voice was soft, so unlike her usual brave, upfront tone. “H-how did you keep going?”
“For a while, I didn’t.” He answered honestly, remembering his first couple months following the tragedy.
“Y-you lost them all. All your family. I only… only my m-…. only her, and I feel like I-I lost everything. Everything, Dick Grayson.”
Dick watched her, his heart heavy.
“I- I’d just gone to visit her.” Barbara began again, tears slowly coursing their way down her face again. “You remember me telling you, right?” Dick nodded. “I’d just seen her, we-we’d just talked, and- and she’d t-taken me sh-shopping. She bought me a purple dress and a h-hair clip. It was sh-shaped like a butterfly and it h-had purple wings.” Barbara smiled through the tears at the memory. “I’d put it on as soon as we’d checked out, be-because it’d matched my shirt. She-she said I…. She said that I looked beautiful. I laughed and th-thanked her and then we’d gone out to eat. When I l-left I never thought that would be the l-last time I’d ever s-see her. I gave her a hug and said good-bye, but then I’d just left. I’d just left, Dick. Only a hug and I’d left.” Here Barbara burst into tears again, bringing her knees up to her chest as she cried, memories no doubt playing on repeat through her brain.
“A-and now – now she’s gone.” Barbara sobbed. “Gone, Dick, gone. Gone forever. I’ll never see her again. Not n-next month, when we’re o-off school for t-teacher co-conference. N-not over Th-thanksgiving or Christmas. Not ever.”
Dick reached out and put a hand on her knee, catching her eyes when she looked up. He held her gaze as he said:
“Babs, I- I’m not going to tell you that it’s okay, cause it’s obviously not. I’m not going to tell you that it will get better, cause, even though it will, right now it still hurts. I’m not going to tell you not to cry, to move on, to be brave, cause that’s stupid, right? All- all I want you to know, is that- that you’re not alone, okay? That this is your sorrow, and no one can share it, but I’m not gonna leave alone. I-I don’t understand how you feel, but I’ll stand with you, okay?”
Barbara nodded and uncurled herself from her ball, and Dick reached over and pulled her into another hug. When they’d broken apart, Barbara was wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Th-thank you… Dick.”
Dick nodded. Barbara smiled at him, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. He smiled back. He let her be, not saying anything, knowing there was nothing he could say. She had to figure things out for herself. Finally, she spoke again.
“I just, I f-feel b-broken.” She mumbled. “Like nothing’s th-the same. L-like….”
“Like what?” Dick asked, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“L-like the world shouldn’t go on. I-I see people acting s-so normal and it d-doesn’t seem right. The w-world shouldn’t b-be the same, a-anymore.”
Dick nodded, knowing the feeling. After his family had died, it had felt like the sky had fallen, or like the world had been destroyed, and yet he’d gone outside and the sky was still there, the world was still whole. It had made him angry, that things were still the same, like his family had meant so little to world that it didn’t even notice they were gone. He just couldn’t understand how everything still looked the same after all that had happened. How the world had the nerve to keep on going, to keep on moving forward, when Dick’s world was so obviously destroyed, unable to even move at all.
“D-Dick, I- I want to give up, sometimes….” Barbara whispered, clutching at her own legs.
“I don’t want you to give up.” Dick told her, grabbing her hand and holding it for emphasize. “’Never give in... never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force... never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.’”
“W-William Churchill.” Barbara smiled. “Have I ever told you how amazing of a friend you are, Dick Grayson?”
“Yeah, but you can tell me again.” Dick smirked, stretching out on the bed, staring up at her, glad she was smiling again.
“Master Richard.” Alfred called, the bedroom door opening. “The cookies you requested have arrived.”
Dick jumped off the bed, speeding over to the door and taking the tray from the butler who now stood in the doorway.
“Thanks, Alfred!”
“Of course, Master Richard.” He said, nodding at Barbara before exiting the room, gently closing the door behind him.
Dick carefully carried the tray that held a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk over to the bed, setting it down on the red and black comforter in between himself and Barbara. He immediately shoved a cookie in his mouth, watching as Barbara did the same, her features far less distraught than they’d been before. They ate in silence for a few minutes, Barbara’s eyes wandering around his room with a far off, distant look in them while Dick watched her, slowly eating another cookie. Suddenly, an idea struck him.
“Hey, Babs,” He called, jumping off the bed again and walking over to his window. He quickly unlatched it and pushed it open, the gentle of sound of night rain drifting into the bedroom. “Wanna go outside?”
“It’s raining.” Barbara announced slowly, also getting off the bed.
“I’ve never know you to be one to be bothered by a little rain.” Dick grinned at her, climbing up onto the sill. Barbara smiled and followed him, Dick grabbing her hand and helping her out onto the rain-soaked roof. It was well past eight and the night was pitch black, but far in the distance, beyond the clouds, Dick could catch glimpses of stars. They both sat down, ignoring the fact that they were both already nearly soaked to the bone – august rain was warm enough. Dick lay back, staring up at the sky, rain falling steadily on his face and getting in his eyes and mouth.
“There’s no moon tonight.” Barbara observed, laying back also.
“How do you know it’s not just covered by the clouds?” Dick asked, knowing that she was right, that there wasn’t a moon tonight.
“I’m pretty sure it’s new moon, meaning there isn’t one, and I’m pretty sure you know that.” Barbara said, giving him a light shove in the shoulder. He smirked at her, words already coming out of his mouth.
“Did you know the distance between the earth and the moon fluctuates between 225,622 miles and 252,087 miles?”
“No, and I don’t really care.” Barbara laughed, bringing her hands up behind her head.
“Why not?” Dick asked, his smile growing mischievous.
“Because I don’t.”
“I think you should, though.”
“Why? It’s not like my life depends on knowing the distance between the earth and the moon.”
“How do you know? What if does? What if you’re kidnapped by a crazy astrologer who will kill you if you can’t tell him the distance between the earth and the moon? Then what? Then you’ll be sorry you never cared.”
Barbara laughed, shaking rain off her face. “Yeah, because it’s common to get captured by crazy astrologers.”
Dick could tell she was trying desperately to hold it together. “You never know. I mean, there are thousands of possible scenarios where your life depends on knowing the distance between the earth and the moon. For example: what if some secret organization of supervillain scientists were planning to launch a giant bomb at earth and the launching took place on the moon. Some other scientists, working with the citizens of earth to save the planet created some sort of weapon that could neutralize the bomb, but only right before it was launched, because it was only then that they could locate its position.
“So, the scenario: everyone here on earth is waiting for the bomb to be launched and they have people manning the weapon so it could be called into action at the precise moment. But, alas! The enemies have unearthed the plot and sent in spies to take out the weapon. The spies take down everyone around the weapon, let’s call it the Bomb Neutralizer 3000, BN3 for short, but are unable to locate the BN3 itself. They leave, assuming that since no one is manning the station, no one will be able to activate the BN3. But little did they know, Barbara Gordon, freshman at Gotham Academy, was walking home from school when she saw all that take place. Now Miss Gordon, seeing the spies sneak off looking suspicious, and hence, being the kind, compassionate student she is, snuck into the BN3 Launch Station, to make that everyone was alright. Upon entering, she saw all the scientists passed out around the BN3! And the alert was blinking on the large screen in front of her: ‘Bomb launch in twenty-five seconds’!
“Miss Gordon, an avid news watcher, knew all about the BN3, cause of course the scientists couldn’t resist bragging about it on every station that interviewed them, so she quickly made her way over the controls: she had to set off the BN3 or else earth as we know it would be destroyed! She quickly finds that all the controls have been locked in and all that’s left for her to do is to hit the ‘power’ button. She hits the button, only for a screen to pop up asking for….. wait for it…. The distance between the earth and the moon! Oh no! The BN3 won’t activate unless the distance it must travel is entered into the computer. But of course, Barbara Gordon, caring so much about this particular question, quickly enters in the answer: x is greater than or equal to 225,622 miles and x is less than or equal to 252,087 miles. The computer, satisfied with the approximation, activates the BN3, successfully neutralizing the bomb with five seconds to spare. The world goes crazy for Barbara Gordon, and, when interviewed on the whole incident, she graciously thanks her best friend Richard Grayson for telling her of the importance of knowing the distance between the earth and the moon.”
By the end, Barbara was laughing, rain streaming down her face, and Dick smiled, glad he was able to cheer her up, if only for a moment. She’d have hard days, week, months, years ahead of her, but she’d be okay. He’d be there for her. Someday, she’d be able to start picking up her pieces and putting herself back together and he’d be there to help her. Maybe, she was starting already.
oOo
The funeral service for Barbara Eileen-Gordon was held in Gotham, where her only remaining family lived. Bruce Wayne, in an act of generosity and thanks to Commissioner Gordon, offered to pay the full expenses of the funeral. It was held on August 15th at two o’clock in the afternoon. The preceding ceremony was held at the finest funeral home in Gotham and the burial was in Gotham Cemetery. The guest list was small, but because of the presence of Bruce Wayne (his ward, Dick Grayson, was close friends with the deceased’s daughter, Barbara Gordon, and the philanthropist was invited as well, as a ‘thank you’ for his generosity) the media was present as well. They were, thankfully, chased off before the ceremony started though.
Dick Grayson, dressed in his finest black suit, stood respectfully with his hands behind his back while the priest read the Bible. It was an overcast day, the skies greyish orange with clouds, and rain was on the horizon, but probably wouldn’t fall for another couple hours or so. The temperature was cool for August, which was nice when one had to wear a suit for three or four hours at a time, but Dick wouldn’t have complained either way. Bruce stood next to him, dressed similarly, his head bowed slightly in respect, his eyes distant as though remembering something.
Barbara stood next to her dad, dressed in a black dress with sleeves that reached her elbows, her red hair falling in her face as tears slowly flowed down her cheeks. She’d just finished giving the eulogy. Various other relatives which Dick hadn’t even known existed, and somehow doubted Barbara had known either, stood in dark colors surrounding the open grave with the mahogany coffin, covered in flowers, resting over it, waiting to be lowered into the ground. Today had been the first time Dick had ever seen Barbara’s mom, and he wished with all his might she had been alive to see him too.
Dick didn’t like funerals, but really, who did? He’d been to very few since his parents and they’d always been for people he’d never met; mostly employees at Wayne Enterprises. This one was different than the other ones he’d been to – it held more meaning and emotion for him as he watched his best friend suffer through what he’d gone through four years ago. It brought back memories, memories that he’d done his best to keep to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to remember his own loss; now was the time to mourn Barbara’s. Still, the memories flooded his brain, washing away all else as he remembered the last time he’d stood in this cemetery, dressed in a borrowed suit, rain falling in time to his tears.
He’d been virtually alone, with no family left whatsoever besides his newly comatose uncle. Bruce Wayne, the filthy rich Gotham billionaire, in one of his common acts of generosity, had offered to pay for the trapeze artist’s funeral and he was in attendance, along with his butler, but they were the only ones. Besides the social security worker who was out waiting in her car, but she hardly counted. Dick remembered standing in the rain as the pastor recited verses from under a shelter, the coffins resting in the shelter as well, until they would be lowered into the earth. Dick had insisted on staying out in the rain, despite the adult’s protests, as perhaps he’d hoped it would wash away his sorrow. Of course, it hadn’t worked.
The moment where his parent’s bodies had finally been lowered into the grave, the hole, had been the worst moment for, finally, Dick had to accept that his parents were forever gone, buried to the world. It had been almost too much for him, to think about his parents bodies being covered in soggy dirt, and he’d finally dissolved into tears that he’d been working so hard on holding back. Once the final pile of mud had been placed on the grave, Dick had wanted so bad to fall to the ground in front of the headstone and cry for hours.
He hadn’t though, and instead thanked Mr. Wayne for all he’d done before walking slowly back to the social worker who would drive him back to the Juvenile Detention center where he’d been staying. That night, though, he’d snuck out and ran across town in the rain until he’d reached the graveyard where he’d promptly collapsed to the ground in front of his family’s graves, his long held back tears spilling out. Dick had lied there, curled up in front of the headstone all night long, the rain relentlessly beating down on him while he muttered to his dead parents in Romany, oblivious to the world around him. [2]
Now, as Dick stood in front of a new grave, he wondered if Barbara felt the same way. No doubt she did.
“Let us commend Barbara Eileen-Gordon to the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer.” The pastor spoke as two men moved to lift the coffin. “Into thy hands, O Father and Lord, we commend her, that you will hold her close to thee and suffer her never to be parted from thee.”
The men lifted up the coffin and slowly lowered it into the grave, the pastor continuing with the committal. “We therefore commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.”
Then a mechanical digger came forward and covered the coffin with dirt until the ground was flat once more. The headstone would be placed later, after the dirt had settled.
Barbara then stepped forward and gently placed a small bouquet of roses on the grave, other relatives doing the same. After all the family had finished, Dick stepped forward and laid a single red rose, for Barbara had said those were her mother’s favorite flowers, on the pile as well.
The guests then slowly started to wander off, first stopping by Barbara and mumbling ‘sorry’s and other words of comfort before getting in their cars and driving to the wake, which would be held at a ballroom rented out for the occasion. Dick waited around until nearly all the guests had left before approaching Barbara. She smiled at him a watery smile and her gave her a hug, no words needed to express how either felt. The broke apart and Dick gave Barbara a smile as her dad waited by their car.
“Hey, I’ll see you at the wake, okay?” Dick told her, wanting to visit something quick before he left.
Barbara nodded. “Thank you, Dick, for coming. I know you don’t like funerals.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” And then they parted ways, Dick heading up the hill towards the older graves and Barbara back towards her moms.
The acrobat knew that Bruce wouldn’t mind waiting for him for a few minutes. Once he reached the grave, he crouched down in front of the headstone. The words Mary and John Grayson, 1972-2006 were forever burned into his brain yet he still stared at them as he laid down a small batch of Tiger Lilies, both his parents’ favorite flower.[3] He hadn’t visited the grave in a while, a fact which he wasn’t happy with, but he knew he didn’t really have time today to stay. He stared at the headstone for another few minutes, thoughts of parents filling his mind, but he quickly shoved them away as they drew near to the memory. Now wasn’t the time.
Dick stood up again and brushed off his pants, even though they never touched the ground, before once again making his way down the hill to where Bruce stood by the car, his phone to his ear and a troubled look on his face. Dick walked up and stood in front of his guardian, waiting for him to finish his call. Once he did, he nodded for Dick to get into the car, climbing into the driver’s side himself, they’d convinced Alfred to take a day off, and shut all the doors and windows. Looks like it was Batman business.
“That was Alfred.” Bruce announced, starting the car as he addressed his ward. “Apparently he got a tip that there’s an assassination attempt against the Commissioner planned for his upcoming speech.” Dick was right, Batman business.
“Batman gonna be there?” Dick asked.
Bruce nodded.
“And Robin?”
Now Bruce sighed, looking troubled, and Dick knew that he was trying to avoid looking at him. Not too hard to do, considering he was driving.
“Come on, Bruce!” Dick begged, nearly jumping in his seat. Someone had a lot of energy. And to think, he’d only gotten, like, four hours of sleep last night. Probably that coffee I stole from Alfred, he thought, remembering how tired he’d been that morning and how he’d been desperate to be awake for the funeral, even if it meant downing a cup of the bitter, caffeinated liquid. Liquid, cause it really shouldn’t be considered a beverage.
“You’ve been leaving me out of every big mission for the past month!” Dick cried. Okay, it had only been a couple of weeks, but one got the point.
“Hardly,” Bruce argued. “But,” he cut off Dick’s next argument. “Robin will be there, if he sees fit.”
“Yes!”
“The speech is on August 19th. Ra’s al Ghul is believed to be behind it.”