Chapter Text
The day of Bruce's funeral was unseasonably warm and bright, as if the weather was mocking the solemn occasion. The sun beat down through Gotham's perpetual haze on the heads of the family gathered around the casket. Dick felt a trickle of sweat coming down his temple. With burning, red-rimmed eyes, he glanced around at the faces of his brothers and sisters.
Jason looked stoic, his head up and jaw clenched, but his puffy eyes gave away his grief. Tim stood still and stiff next to him, his blue-gray eyes staring ahead blankly. Steph and Cass clung to each other. Silent tears streamed down Cass’ cheeks, but Steph's sobs were audible, though she tried to muffle them in her hand. Duke's head hung low, his eyes closed, his hands clasped in front of him. Damian stood close to Dick, tense and tight-fisted. He hadn't cried yet.
Alfred stood on Dick's other side. He looked neat and composed as usual, but Dick knew the old butler had spent many sleepless nights mourning his son. Others had gathered, too: Jim Gordon, Babs, Lucius and Luke Fox, Selina, and Kate. At the funeral service, everyone had shared what Bruce meant to them, and now there were no words left, only silence punctuated by sniffles and quiet sobs.
Dick's chest tightened as the casket began to be lowered into the earth. He squeezed his eyes shut, and saw the image of his father's burnt, hollowed-out body now hidden inside that box. Dick couldn't breathe. The casket came to rest at the bottom of the hole. Dick looked over at Damian again. The teen was blinking rapidly. Dick wrapped an arm around him.
“It's okay to cry,” he whispered.
At these words of permission, Damian's face crumbled. He let out a strangled cry and collapsed into Dick, who held him tight. Damian’s long, shuddering wails were full of raw pain. Over Damian’s head, Dick watched the grave be filled with dirt.
Bruce was gone. Really gone. And Dick was an orphan again.
As the group began to disperse, Jason said hoarsely, “I need a drink. Who's coming with?”
“Me,” Tim said, turning to follow Jason.
Steph raised her hand, and Cass nodded.
“Don't get too wasted,” Dick admonished, still hugging Damian. “Remember our mission tonight.”
“Like we'd forget,” Jason scoffed.
“Don't worry, Dick,” Tim said. “We know our limits.”
Dick nodded, then looked down at Damian, whose sobs had died down to sniffles and shudders.
“Hey, if you need anything, even just to talk, you can always call me, ok?” Dick said softly.
Damian lifted his head. “All right,” he agreed, sounding very young. He released his hold on Dick and stepped back.
“I'd like to stay here alone for awhile,” Damian said, a little stronger.
Dick left Damian at the graveside and began to walk back to his motorcycle. He squinted up into the sky, then frowned.
“You shouldn't be here,” Dick said coldly. He heard a soft whoosh and the flap of a cape.
“I just wanted to see him safely laid to rest,” said a voice behind him. “He…he was my friend.”
“And you killed him,” Dick burst out, and immediately regretted it. He clenched his jaw.
“I was under the influence of black Kryptonite, and being mind-controlled by Maxwell Lord. Dick, you know this,” Superman said, his voice soft and pleading.
“Yeah, well, Bruce was right about not trusting people with super powers.” Dick kept his face turned away from him.
Superman was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “There's something you should know. The Justice League found and captured Maxwell Lord this morning.”
“Well, that's…unfortunate,” Dick said flatly, his heart sinking.
“Unfortunate?” Superman repeated in confusion.
“We've been tracking him. We were planning to hunt him down tonight and make him pay for what he did,” Dick explained, clenching his fists.
“Vengeance?” Superman questioned. “That's not like you.”
Dick finally turned to face him. He pointed toward Bruce's grave. “He was vengeance!” he shouted, then added, quieter, “And we're his legacy.”
“Vengeance won't be necessary. Lord will never hurt anyone again. Martin Manhunter entered his mind and severed his connection to his mind-control powers.”
Dick took a long breath in and out.
“OK, I'll let the others know.”
“Dick, I really am sorry about Bruce. If there's anything I can do…”
“No.” Dick cut him off sharply. “Just…stay away from us.”
Again, Dick heard the rush of air and the snap of a cape that announced Superman's departure.
Dick sighed and pulled out his phone.
“Mission is off,” he typed in the group chat to Jason, Tim, and Damian. There was instantly a barrage of questions in reply.
“The Justice League has Lord,” Dick sent. Suddenly, a drink sounded like just what he needed. He got the address of the bar from his brothers and threw a leg over his motorcycle.
A few hours (and more than a few drinks) later, Dick made it back to the hotel where he was staying. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to stay at the manor during the funeral preparations. He parked the bike, climbed off a bit unsteadily, and headed to his room. Before he could swipe his key card, his phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out and blinked at the message blearily.
Kory: I have just returned from a mission in space. I heard about Bruce. Please accept my condolences.
Dick stared at the tiny picture of Kory next to her name, all smiles and fiery hair. He was struck with a desperate desire to see that face in person, to feel her warmth. They hadn’t been together for quite awhile, but they were still friends. He needed to hear her voice. He licked his dry lips and pressed the green call button. She answered immediately.
“Dick?”
“Hi, Kory.” His voice cracked.
“How are you holding up?” She sounded so sweet and kind.
“I…” he swallowed. “Not too well,” he admitted, his half-drunken state making him more honest than usual.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said quietly. When Dick stayed silent, she asked, “Did you already have the funeral?”
“Yeah, today.” Dick leaned against the wall next to his door.
“Is there anything I can do?” Kory asked.
“I wanna see you,” he said, his words slurring slightly.
“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Now?”
“I’m at the um, the big hotel on High Street. Room…” he squinted at the sign on the wall next to him. “Room A 16.”
“All right. I’ll be there soon.”
“Kay, bye.” Dick pushed off the wall sluggishly and managed to swipe the keycard on his third try. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it felt like an hour before he heard a knock on the door. He rolled off the bed and tried to make himself look presentable by running a hand through his hair. His dress shirt was half-unbuttoned and he was barefoot. Kory looked concerned when he opened the door for her.
“X’hal, Dick, you look awful,” she said gently, reaching out and laying her warm hand on his stubbled cheek. She wrinkled her nose slightly. “And you are inebriated.”
“Yeah, a little.” He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.
“Ah, sorry,” he said after a moment, his cheeks flushing even more than they already were. He stepped back to let her in. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and she sat down next to him.
“How did it go today?” Kory asked.
“Everything went smoothly. It was… emotional, of course.” Dick scrubbed at his tired eyes. “I… I miss him already” He swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat.
“Kory,” He looked up at her with tearful, pain-filled eyes. “It was my fault, and now…” His voice wavered. “Now I can't even make it right.” Tears slid down his cheeks, and he wiped them away quickly.
“What do you mean?” Kory tilted her head and stared at him.
Dick sniffed and blinked away tears.
“Bruce has a war weapon from Apokolips, a weapon to wipe out superpowers.”
Kory looked even more puzzled.
“I convinced him not to use it,” Dick continued fervently. “Don't you see? If…if he had used the weapon, Superman would have lost his powers, and Bruce would still be alive!” With a hiccupping sob, he rested his aching head against her strong shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him and held him close.
“It’s not your fault,” she said soothingly, stroking his hair.
“It is! It is!” Dick insisted, his voice muffled in her shoulder. He clung to her and wept until he felt completely wrung out. The next thing he knew, it was morning and he was lying in bed under the covers with Kory curled up next to him. His head was pounding, so he closed his eyes again and snuggled closer to Kory’s comforting presence. His phone chimed.
Tim: I think I know where Lord got the black Kryptonite.
