[IN THE END] - DICK GRAYSON - YOUNG JUSTICE

CHAPTER 22B

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Bruce was about to say something when the phone rang.  "I'll get it master Bruce."  The older man said.  Alfred looked towards the television, confusion evident on his face as he read the caller ID.  "Hmm.  I wonder who that could be..."  He pondered aloud.  Bruce snapped his head in the other direction checking the number on the screen.  "No Alfred I'll get it."  Bruce screamed as he dashed to the console. 

He grabbed the phone putting his hand over the speaker.  "Just give me a few minutes."  He whispered to Alfred in a sharp tone.  He hurried up the stairs, making his way to his room, slamming the door behind him.  He brought the phone to his ear.  "Why are you calling!  I told you to never call this number!"  He snapped.  The voice on the other end spoke.  "Bruce you've been home for close to a year.  Am I allowed to leave?"  Bruce brought a hand to his face.  "And go where?"  Anger was apparent in his voice.  "You are so lucky that Richard wasn't here to pick up this call...  I already told you.  I am in charge of the communications.  I will call you if something happens."  Bruce was pacing throughout his room.  "Wait... I thought you said he always stayed home..."  The voice was weak.  "He is currently in a coma."  Bruce could barely say it out loud.  "Are you fucking with me Bruce?  You'll call me when something happens?  I call bull shit.  Does a coma not count as something in your mind?"  Bruce couldn't take it any longer.  "Don't ever call this number again.  If something else comes up I will call you."  It was a reassuring tone.  "You better.  Otherwise I will come and find you."  The tone was serious.  "Stay put!  Do you hear me?  Don't call...  Don't move.  You are going to ruin this whole operation.  Is that what you want?"  The voice on the other end of the line became vulnerable again.  "No."  Bruce shook his head.  "Good.  Then follow your orders."  At that Bruce hung up the phone exhaling deeply.  He walked towards his window, trying to control his anger.  He shook his head, a plethora of emotions swimming inside his mind.  'I can't do this anymore.'  He thought to himself.  He tried to put on a happy face, though it was close to impossible.  He took slow steps back into the halls of the manor, eventually returning to the couch next to Alfred. 

He couldn't manage to smile, but his face wasn't filled with anger.  His expression was more of an in between.  He sat down, placing his hands in his pockets.  His eyes wondered throughout the room, looking everywhere with the exception of Alfred's face.  His foot was anxiously tapping, though he did his best not to make too much noise.  "Who was that?"  Alfred wondered.  "Don't worry about it."  Bruce said hopelessly.  Alfred sat in silence, feeling uncomfortable, as Bruce created an awkward tension.  "What is the problem master Bruce."  Still no eye contact.  "I thought you said you could read me."  His voice as blank as his face.  Alfred let out a small laugh.  "I can, but I think the real question is can you?  Do you even know what you are feeling?"  Bruce exhaled, his fingers brushing through his hair.  His hand made its way back down to his body, slapping his leg, as the hair on his head now stood up in various directions.  "Guilt.  I feel guilt."  He said weakly.  Alfred shook his head in agreement.

The two sat in silence for close to three hours.  Alfred studied Bruce's expression, though it kept changing every ten minutes.  It was obvious that he still had no idea what to say.  Finally Bruce's head turned to Alfred slowly, his eyes slightly damp.  "Can I ask of you a favor?"  Alfred gave the younger man a firm nod.  "Please tell me how I can make things right with Richard when he wakes up."  Alfred closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath of air.  "Bruce believe me, I want to help you.  But I can't hurt you.  And this would be hurting you."  Bruce wasn't angered, rather confused.  "Why Alfred?  I need you to help me with this...  Please."  Bruce was basically begging.  "I can't prepare you to mend a relationship with someone that..."  Alfred cut himself off to spare Bruce the pain.  But the younger man still felt it, understanding what he was going to say.  "He isn't dead though Alfred!  He's alive."  Bruce was looking for any excuse.  "He'sunconscious." Alfred refuted.  "You might think I am helping you Bruce.  But if that day comes-"  He corrected himself.  "When that day comes, you'll be upset that you never got the chance."  Bruce shook his head in denial.  "No Alfred you're wrong.  That day will not come.  Not as long as I am alive.  He will wake up.  And when he does I want to be there for him.  I want to fix things."  His voice gradually got weaker.  " I have to fix things."  He was looking down at the ground as he finished.  Alfred was more than tempted to take up on his offer, but he knew it wouldn't end well if he did.  His lips tightened, as he looked at Bruce.  It's like he wasn't even in there anymore.  Alfred turned around and walked away giving Bruce some time to think. 

Two weeks later Bruce was still the same.  He was so quiet.  As quiet as he had been when his parents first died.  Which was not a good sign.  He had been upset about Richard's predicament since the day it started.  But this had been a different kind of distress.  He was sitting before his window looking outside, as he had been for the past few days.  It's not like he hadn't used this method before, but it became his re-established way of coping with his problem.  The truth.

Alfred stood at the door way, watching from a far.  The memories he had blended with reality.  The images kept flickering, seeing Bruce one second and Richard the next.  He closed his eyes long enough to let the effect ware off.  And when he opened his eyes again Bruce was still sitting there.  Alfred ran the tips of his fingers across his forehead as he gave up.  He couldn't handle it anymore. 

"You and Richard are alike in more ways than I thought possible."  He said walking towards the man.  Bruce still sat there.  Didn't even turn back to acknowledge the older man.  He was lost in his own little world.  Just like Richard.  "He used to do the same exact thing... Lose track of time and just sit there for hours watching."  Bruce still didn't respond.  "You two cope the same way.  You're either raging with anger, throwing things all over the place, or too upset to do anything."  He heard Bruce sniffling, though his attention was still directed towards the window.  "When he wakes up, you should put your differences to the side.  What you have in common is an asset that you must take advantage of."  Alfred said sitting down beside him.  "Does this mean you're going to help me?"  Alfred smiled. 

"I already told you a few weeks ago about you and your darkest moments.  You believed that your father was the only one that could pull you out of that state.  And you were embarrassed when anyone else saw you like that.  It was bond that was only shared between you and your father.  Until it became our thing.  Until you realized that you just needed someone there to help you.  I have seen Richard at times in which he is weak.  So I did the same thing I had with you.  The same thing I am doing now.  I sat down beside him, trying to comfort him as best as I could.  And like you, he didn't want anyone else to fulfill that role, to see him like so.  Yet I am willing to bet, that in a moment of vulnerability, if you plant yourself down beside him, and let him know you're there, he will let you in.  And it will become your thing."

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I can't believe this story is almost over... Don't worry though, many things are going to happen!  So get ready!

I am warning you, part C of this chapter is kind of short, but it's worth it!  It'll be up in the next few days.

Thanks again!