#7 - Refocus

#7 - Refocus



It was a rather hot day in Gotham City. The central air conditioning in Wayne Manor was getting a workout. Dick woke late into the morning, though not as late as one might expect considering everything that happened the night before.

Alfred was, of course, already up and about doing his chores. Dick always wondered how Alfred managed. With the erratic sleeping schedules Bruce and Dick had during their time as Batman and Robin, it always seemed like Alfred was the first awake and last to sleep.

Waiting through the afternoon seemed to take forever. The time for the meeting was at the mercy of Tim's school day. Dick spent much of it down in the Batcave training. Though he made a point to go outside to run around the grounds and get some sun. Heaven knows he doesn't get much of it.

It was about two-fifty in the afternoon when the first car pulled up to Wayne Manor. Out of the black BMW sedan came Lucius Fox. The elder African-American man, dressed in a fine dark brown suit, had gray-white hair cut close and neat and a mostly white mustache. His face was wrinkled with age and worry but when the man smiled, which was often, it was infectious.

Barbara's van pulled in shortly after. She had stopped to pick Tim up from school. Still grounded, he didn't have a lot of time before having to get home. Dick appreciated Tim's willingness to risk for this gathering.

When everyone was settled in, all pleasantries spoken, all refreshments offered and given by Alfred, the five headed down into the Batcave.

"I know I haven't been here as much as you lot," Lucius' voice echoed through the cavern as they exited the hidden elevator, "but I never could get used to being down here."

"It seems strange, but a part of me always feels at home here," Dick offered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was almost a church-like feel to the cave at times.

His amenity was backed up by the fact that he was wearing just track pants and a tight gray t-shirt despite the chill of the cave. Tim and Barbara began to regret dressing for the heat outside.

"Part of me never feels at home," Tim admitted as he put his backpack down on a table near the main computer. "Like I'm just an impostor wearing the suit."

Dick put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Well tell that part to shut up. You've earned that suit. And being here."

"So why are we here?" Barbara interrupted, her anger at Dick over the last couple days still very real. "What the hell has been going on?"

"Oh you're not going to believe me when you hear it." Dick looked over at Barbara and offered his lopsided smile. Her scowl was stronger. So, trying to avoid both her gaze and the fact that she was wearing a tank top in the cold cave, Dick turned away and motioned for everyone to pull in to the round meeting table.

"I'm not even sure where to begin," Dick sighed, leaning on his hands as he stood over the table.

"Where all stories start, Master Richard," Alfred said warmly. "At the beginning."

Dick smiled slightly and took a deep breath. "A lot of stuff has come to light recently. About Bruce. About the Red Hood. And while there's still so much we don't know, the picture is becoming clearer. So...so I'm just going to drop the bomb now. The Red Hood is Jason Todd."

Dick looked around the table, taking in the range of emotions from his friends. Alfred's jaw dropped. Tim smiled awkwardly, voicing how crazy he thought it was. Lucius just sat stone faced. Barbara...

"What kind of game is this?" she asked. Dick could see how she much she wanted to rise to her feet in protest. "Jason's dead! This is...this is just...sick!"

"Okay just listen," Dick said as he held up his hands, waiting for silence. "I know it sounds crazy. It is crazy. When I fought him in the Iceberg Lounge, he said things. Knew things. Our fight was awfully personal for him and despite how impossible it was, I just knew it was him."

"That's your explanation?" Barbara shouted.

"I have to agree," Lucius said, his voice smooth and steady. "I mean Tim excluded we were all there at his funeral. He-"

"No. No I get it," Tim interrupted. He was staring off in the distance, going through his memory. "When I fought him, he said things too. He was acting very...familiar. And he mentioned 'the circus boy'."

The others accepted Tim's words but obviously weren't convinced. Dick continued, "Look that's not it, that's just where it began. It made me suspicious, so I looked into some things. It brought me here and...well we'll get to that later. But next I went to his grave."

"Dear God," Barbara said, her face in her palm.

"I used an imaging device." Dick's voice was hard for emphasis. "And his body wasn't there." He let that sink in for a moment.

"Well was...was there any sign of...was the grave..." Alfred stammered, overwhelmed.

"There were no signs of the grave being disturbed. The casket was intact. The body just wasn't in there. No remains. So either he was never in it to begin with, or someone took him out a long time ago."

The others didn't offer anything else up. Finally sitting down in his chair, Dick put his elbows on the table and his hands together in front of him. "My next stop was Dr. Thompkins clinic. If he really was the Red Hood, he'd need some kind of ally helping him. She seemed a likely first step. And how right I was. Leslie confirmed everything."

Each of their faces grew darker. Confusion, betrayal, anger. Dick imagined he had looked much like them as he learned all of this, just over a longer period of time.

"Jason first came to her six weeks ago. She knew right away it was him. Eventually he confirmed it. He came to her with any injuries he sustained as Red Hood that he couldn't deal with on his own."

"Why?" Alfred whispered. He was pale as a ghost. "Why didn't she tell us? She was...wait." Alfred's eyes snapped up and met with Dick's. He nodded, confirming the butler's suspicion. "She told Master Bruce! He knew! Why didn't he tell me? Why? Then he disappeared and she kept calling for him! I didn't...I had no idea..."

"Dick I..." Barbara was at a loss, both hands were in her hair, holding her head up. "This is insane."

"Bruce knew. Leslie told him." Dick got out of his chair and started walking around the table. "He must have looked into it. Shortly after, he disappeared. What had he found? I have no idea. When Jason arrived at the clinic, I confronted him. He claims he didn't know anything about Bruce's disappearance. He said...he said that he came back to settle his score with Bruce. But that he never had the chance."

There was silence for a while. Dick continued walking around the table until he came back to his seat and sat down. Lucius was the one to break the silence.

"Settle his score? What score? What does he have against Bruce?"

"He..." Barbara started before taking a moment to wipe a tear from her cheek. "He probably blames Bruce for what happened to him."

"But it wasn't Bruce that-" Tim started to say.

"I know," Barbara said, putting her hand on Tim's. "I know. But more than any of you, I have some...understanding of what Jason is going through. And I can't honestly say there weren't times that I...hated Bruce for what happened to me. It's stupid and wrong and unfair, but it was there. At times."

"Whatever his reasons, the fact is that Jason claims he had nothing to do with Bruce's disappearance and I'm inclined to believe him. He had no reason to lie. And his anger..." Dick's thought trailed off and he let it go. "Jason's got a gunshot wound in his side and a broken wrist, so he'll be out of commission for a little while. He's gonna find a hole and stay out of sight. So the question is, what do we do now?"

"We could try to follow Master Bruce's footsteps," Alfred suggested. "If we discover the trail he was on it could lead us to him."

"I doubt it," Tim said. "Whatever he was doing he didn't even tell you, Alfred. The trail he was following is going to be cold. And we can't even be sure that was what led to him going missing."

"I agree," Barbara nodded. "I've already been through his computer with a fine-tooth comb. He left no trace of what he was working on."

"We can't give up hope, Ms. Gordon," Alfred pleaded.

"There's one more thing," Dick said. "Computer, execute Program: Prodigal."

The computer screen blinked to life. The image of Bruce Wayne appeared on the screen, sitting in his chair in front of the computer.

"Dick. If you're hearing this now, it's because I have been unable to access the computer manually or remotely in at least a months time. If that's true, well, I'm either cut off from everyone and everything...or I'm dead.

"In either case...well I've made a lot of mistakes. I know you feel the same way. But there are at least two things I know weren't mistakes. Batman...and you.

"Gotham needs Batman. I know I liked to talk about the day when that would no longer be the case, but the truth is that day will never come. Evil never ends. It never has. Defeating it was never the point. The point is that we get up every day and keep fighting it.

"I know you and I aren't on the best of terms, but you...I'm leaving everything to you. Alfred and Lucius have everything they need. You are my heir, to Bruce and Batman. I hope you can find it in you to continue what I've started.

"Keep fighting. Keep building. The others need you. Gotham needs you. They need Batman."

As the video blinked off, the last echoes of Bruce's voice faded into nothing. The cave fell silent. Everyone paused, taking in the words of their friend, mentor, and leader.

"Dick," Barbara finally whispered. "I-"

"Fuck him," Dick interrupted, springing out of his chair. The hard words caused everyone to bristle, but his tone wasn't angry or harsh. Instead Dick sounded confident. "Fuck him and fuck Batman."

"M-Master Richard..."

"No. Listen to him. 'Gotham needs Batman.' 'Continue what I've started.' Forget what I want! Forget maybe finding some happiness in my life! Even beyond the grave Bruce tries to control my life. Screw that."

Starting to walk around the table again, Dick continued. "I've spent years wrestling with what I am. With what Bruce tried to make me. He tried to make me him. He tried to make me put this war above everything and everyone. Because that's what this was to him, a war. Well I'm done being his soldier."

He paused to let his words set in. He stopped pacing and stood, his back to the table, surveying the cave before him.

"But he did have one point," Dick mused, his voice steady and calm. "Evil never stops. Thousands of years and it's never stopped. If it's a war, it's a war without end. And despite everything that has happened, everything that I hate Bruce for...I can't just turn a blind eye to it."

Walking up to the table, Dick leaned in and looked each of his four friends in the eye. "So yes, I'm going to keep fighting. I'm going to continue the work, not because I believe in Bruce's crusade. Not because he wants me to. But because it's the right thing to do."

Dick pounded the table with his fist, emphasizing his point. "And I'm going to do this my way. I'm NOT Batman. I'm not a general. We aren't an army. We're a family.

"I realized something when I was dealing with Jason. I couldn't reach him. Maybe he's too far gone. Or maybe it's because I never really connected with him. I let my anger at Bruce keep me from being there for him. I can't change the past, but I can change the future."

Smiles spread across the group like the rising of the sun. "I love you guys. I'm not going to manipulate you. I'm not going to guilt you. I'm not going to draft you. If we do this, we do this as a team. Anyone who wants out at any time is good to go. No questions, no expectations. Each of you has to make the choice for yourselves."

"I'm in," Barbara said without hesitation. "I've come too far to back out now."

"I wasn't sure for a bit there," Tim said, his eyes focused down at his hands. When he looked up, those same eyes were hard. Determined. "And I can't promise that I won't ever decide to put this behind me. But for now, I'm in. Hundred percent."

"I've been here from the beginning," Alfred said with a heavy sigh. "I don't suppose I can give up now."

"I take it this means you want to move forward with the paperwork?" Lucius asked, his voice tinged with both pride and sadness.

"I'm not exactly a businessman," Dick answered with a heavy heart.

"You don't need to be," Lucius smiled. "At least not right away. We're all in this together, remember? I'll be there to watch your back."

"So we're doing this, huh?" Tim whispered, despite everything still to afraid to say it out loud.

"It's what Master Bruce wanted," Alfred said firmly. "Well, mostly."

"It's time to tell the world," Barbara agreed. "Bruce Wayne is dead."



The Gotham City branch of AccuTech was a rather unimpressive building. It stood thirty stories high, surrounded by larger buildings in Midtown like a child in a crowd of adults. It was little shock when they were recently acquired, only a surprise it was to Stark Industries rather than Wayne Enterprises.

Perhaps it was that acquisition that made such a small branch of a small company a target for the shadowy figure now ziplining onto the rooftop. The figure moved with grace and precision, landing silently on all fours.

Security was a concern, but not a large one. The surveillance camera on the rooftop had blind spots. It was focused on the door only, picking up only the section of the roof that was in it's unmoving range.

The clandestine figure kept to the shadows, inching it's way under the camera without being seen. With a quick, precise motion the figure tossed a plastic bag over the camera, obscuring the lens. An inelegant solution, but this job didn't require as much finesse as usual. Likely they would be in an out before security even noticed the obstruction. If not, well there wasn't much in the way of opposition. After all, who would bother trying to steal from AccuTech?

The electronic keycard lock on the door was an easy crack. Thirty-three seconds, a new record. Once inside, the figure scanned the stairs leading down and then proceeded quickly. Cameras would be tougher to bypass inside. The key now was speed. Being on camera as little as possible and hoping to go unnoticed.

The figure had studied the blueprints for the building their employer provided for an hour. More than enough time to commit the path to memory. Things were going smoothly until, after exiting the stairway on the twenty-seventh floor, the figure ran right in front of a patrolling security guard.

The encounter was easy enough. The guard, for his part, reacted instantly. His hand almost finished unholstering his sidearm when a crack erupted in the hallway and the whip wrapped around his forearm. A sudden yank dragged the guard forward and off balance, right into the waiting arms of the figure, who used the momentum to flip the guard over their hip and onto the floor.

"Sorry about this," the figure practically purred, her voice soft and tender. "Wrong place, wrong time."

With a crack of her elbow into the back of the man's head, he quickly fell limp. Wasting no time, Catwoman continued down the hall, wrapping up her whip as she went. Her black bodysuit had little by way of adornments. It was almost entirely about function, from the special kevlar-mesh material, the flexible climbing boots, to the goggles that gave her options for night vision and infrared. The only embellishments were the retractable claws on each finger, which were functional as well as stylish, and the small cat ears atop her cowl.

It wouldn't be long before some kind of alert went out, either from someone seeing her on the cameras or the guard not reporting in. Wasting little time, Catwoman ran through the halls along the route she'd memorized until she came to a door marked Research Lab 4.

To anyone else it would seem like just another door to another lab. There were plenty in the building. However her honed burglar instincts immediately told her this was no ordinary door. The material, although painted to look like the others, was a much stronger metal. There were security cameras throughout the halls, but this was the only door to have it's own camera watching it.

Most notably, of course, was the security panel hidden next to it. With the claws on her left hand, Catwoman pried the panel open. Underneath was a retinal scanner.

"Interesting," Catwoman thought to herself. "Such drastically higher security for this one door."

The scanner, however intriguing, was not unexpected. Her employer knew of it and gave her a list of AccuTech employees who had access. It wasn't hard to find a lonely man among them who she could convince to drink too much.

Pushing a button on the side of her goggles, Catwoman looked into the retinal scanner. It took only a moment to scan her recreated image and, with a click and a ding, the door was open.

Once inside, Research Lab 4 was revealed to be less of a research lab and more of a vault. Lockers on one side of the room housed all manner of technological items. Filing cabinets on the other side no doubt had a wealth of information worth a pretty penny. Yet what she was hired to procure was on one of the many computers at the far end of the room.

Taking out a small USB drive from inside her suit, she inserted it into a port on one of the computers. The screen popped on as the drive did it's own work, opening directories until it found one entitled "Weird Science," and then began copying everything inside.

Catwoman held her breath as it worked. While the entire process of burglary was always a thrill, this was the height of it. The moment when you either achieved your goal and got the goods or things went to shit. Watching the progress bar slowly moving toward one hundred percent was both nerve racking and exhilarating at the same time.

Idly drumming her claws on the computer desk, the file copy process finally hit one hundred percent. Practically tearing the USB drive out of the computer, Catwoman quickly turned and headed for her escape.

Stealth was no longer a concern, only speed. As she dashed through the halls, another security guard stood in her way, his pistol in hand. Not missing a beat, Catwoman ran halfway up the wall as she moved toward him, leapt off as he squeezed the trigger, and planted her knee into the side of his head.

Alarms started going off. She didn't have much time. Leaving the unconscious guard lying on the floor, she continued her sprint forward.

The slightly smog filled air of Gotham City smelled sweet as she exited onto the rooftop. Before the door could close behind her, the echo of running feet began growing louder. Grabbing hold of the handles of her zipline trolley, she detached the cable from the AccuTech building and leapt over the side. The air whipped past her face as gunshots rang out behind her.

Pressing a button on the handle of her trolley activated the motor that began pulling her up the zipline. Putting both her feet out in front of her, she braced for impact as she slammed into the side of the neighboring office building. Fortunately she missed the window, though the impact was painful on her legs.

The trolley continued pulling her up. The guards on the AccuTech building gave up all hope. She would need to get off the rooftops soon, though. Depending on how active the night was, it was quite possible a GCPD helicopter would be arriving soon.

Her heart was still pounding when she rolled up onto the roof of the office building. Though the adrenaline was beginning to fade. For a few seconds she allowed herself to rest, staring up at the night sky, the stars barely visible. She laughed out loud at the absurd fun she was having.

"Jokes on you, chatte," a soft voice called out from the shadows.

Startled but always on edge, Catwoman swung her legs around and rose up to one knee, her claws up and ready to attack. She peered into the darkness as a single match ignited, revealing a familiar face as he lit the cigarette between his lips.

"Gambit." His name sounded like an accusation coming from between her gritted teeth.

"Don' sound so surprised," Gambit said with a crooked smile. "You 'ave some unfinished business with de T'ieves Guild."

-To Be Continued-