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Dick tried not to fidget as he waited for Commissioner Gordon to get off the phone. He hadn't thought this plan of his through very well—he could try and excuse it on the stress and lack of sleep—but he knew it wasn't so much that as his bad habit of grasping for whatever plan would get him through the next few minutes or hours. Long-term planning was beyond him these days. Bruce was dead and Dick was a mess. He just did what he could to survive the day—and Damian.
“Oh, Detective. He was looking for you earlier,” the secretary called out to another man crossing the room, and Dick looked up just in time to curse himself for it. The last thing he needed right now was to add in Gordon's new golden boy to this mess.
Terry studied him, his appraising look reminiscent of Bruce's. “Does a certain nocturnal freelance detective have something against that guy?”
Dick wanted to laugh at the way Terry phrased it, but he stopped himself as Gage got closer and Gordon waved him into the office. Dick had a bad feeling about where that was headed.
"No."
“Fine, then,” Terry said. “Does Dick Grayson have something against that guy?”
“Me? No. Why would I have anything against Gage?”
Terry rolled his eyes. “Come on. You tensed up the moment you saw him. There's something there. I'm not that bad at this stuff, even if I'm not on Wayne's level or yours. What this guy do, steal your girl or something?”
“It's nothing.”
The younger man snorted. Dick grunted. He was not going into that, now or ever. Terry could go back to his own time and place without learning about that. He definitely did not need to know.
Gordon finished his call. He and Gage walked out of the office, joining Dick and Terry at the door. Gage should have gone back to work—that he didn't was another bad sign.
“I know you have some rights to see parts—and only parts—of your family's case, Grayson, you know your rights are limited as a civilian—but even so, I'm not comfortable handing out my files to just anyone,” Gordon said, and Dick grimaced. He didn't know exactly when and where his relationship with the commissioner had gotten off track—it could have had to do with the way things ended with Babs or it could be because Gordon suspected he was Batman, but if he did—well, that just made the whole thing more ridiculous than it already was.
“Maybe you'd feel better if you did assign an officer to supervise us. I mean, me,” Terry said, trying to be helpful. Dick glared at him, wondering what level of hell he'd end up in if he ended up killing both of Bruce's biological sons. He had been almost at his limit with Damian, and now he was afraid he'd hit that point with Terry, too. Not that he should be, but he was running too high after confronting Hush last night. “I'm sure Dick doesn't need any supervision.”
Gordon snorted.
“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that,” another voice said, female and teasing and almost painfully familiar. Dick tried not to flinch when he heard it. He knew he was in for it now, and he'd be lucky to escape the lecture he knew was coming. “I think he needs lots of supervision.”
“You're not going to volunteer for that are you?” Dick said, the words coming easier than they should and with the wrong tone to take in front of her father. And Gage.
“She's not,” Gordon said under his breath. Louder, he addressed his daughter. “Barbara, what are you doing here?”
“We had plans for lunch, remember?” Barbara smiled. “I came here so you couldn't forget again.”
“Oh,” Gordon said, looking sheepish. He scratched his head. “I don't know that I have time for that right now, but I think—”
“I can wait. I've got something to discuss with Dick anyway,” she said with a bright smile, and Dick shook his head. She folded her arms over her chest, daring him to defy her here, and he knew he couldn't. Arguing with her when he'd come to ask a favor of her father meant he would never get what he wanted, and he couldn't avoid discussing this Hush situation forever. “We'll just be a minute.”
Dick snorted at that, following her as she pushed her chair over to the edge of the room, away from her father, Gage, Terry, and anyone else that might overhear. Dick waited. This was her moment, and he wasn't going to start first. He also wasn't going to apologize.
“You tricked me into sleeping.”
He frowned. “Okay, first—you needed to sleep. Second, how was it a trick?”
“You left before I woke up. How long were you even there? Five minutes after I closed my eyes? Your fake snoring has gotten better, I guess, since it fooled me this time, but next time—”
“I left without waking you. That is not a crime. It also doesn't mean that I faked sleeping. I just... I didn't stay asleep for very long,” Dick said. He shrugged. “I don't really have time to—”
“Don't start,” she said, reaching forward and grabbing his arm. She pulled him forward, down to where she could look into his eyes. “You should have stayed, even if you were awake. You could have woken me, let me have another chance to be the support you need. You can't keep taking this all on yourself.”
He almost laughed. “You are so not one to talk. You know what you do. How often do you actually get a day off, Babs?”
She grimaced. “Not the point. Not now. We can argue about that one later. Right now we need to deal with the bigger problem. You didn't even stay around long enough to hear what I'd come up with, and we need to get ahead of this. You know how dangerous he is. You know how much he knows and how easily he could turn that against us.”
Dick nodded. “I know. That's why we had to call in the League to get him under control. I'm not sure we can do anything less now, but if the League isn't responding to us about Terry—and think about it, that has to be a bigger picture with it's implications for the time space continuum and all—we need something else.”
“Which we'd have or could get if you would have stayed and talked to me before leaving.”
Dick tilted his head to the side, studying her. “Were you worried about me?”
“No.”
“No?”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Yes. I was. You would be, too, if you had seen the state you were in last night.”
“Hey, my uniform was intact, I wasn't bleeding all over your floor, and I didn't break anything,” Dick said, not sure what the problem was. He'd been in one piece, and that was all that really mattered. He'd pulled himself up after Hush and gone home, had found a way to fool Damian, Tim, and Stephanie into thinking he was fine, and they still believed it now or they would have done something about it. Dick was handling the situation with Terry as best he could. Things were fine.
Barbara lifted his hand up, turning it over in hers. “I know I shouldn't have to tell you this again, but I will—we can't lose you. Not after Bruce. You are holding everything together and we all owe you for that, but it's still too much for one person, and if we did lose you...”
Dick put his free hand against her cheek. “You're not going to lose me. I know I've been stubborn and distant and taken some risks that probably weren't necessary, but I'm okay. And I do need you. I'm just trying not to abuse that because I know you are in the same boat I am.”
She nodded. “I am. That doesn't mean we're not going to deal with this, though.”
“You're just angling for another late night visit with cookies, aren't you?”
She laughed.
Terry figured he'd been forgotten about, which didn't bother him all that much. He'd thought about following Dick, but it was clear that whatever he and Barbara had to discuss, it wasn't for anyone else's ears—that had been clear to everyone, if not from the start then from the way their conversation continued.
“About last night,” Gage began, and Gordon looked to him. Gage held up his hand. “It's not that I'm all that new to this, though it was my first Arkham escape. It's just... I don't remember all of what happened—no one does after they got controlled by this Mad Hatter guy—but they did say there was another bat there. Is that... even possible?”
Gordon grunted, and Terry hoped he was just imagining that the older man looked in his direction. Did this Gordon know that Dick was Batman? Did that mean he would automatically assume that Terry was the “new” bat if he did? “You never know with them. It wasn't that long ago people were saying Batman was dead.”
“But he's not, right?” Gage asked. “I met the guy once. He ignored me, but he was alive.”
Gordon shrugged. Terry figured he knew the difference between Wayne as Batman and Dick as Batman, but he wasn't saying anything. Terry looked over at Dick and Barbara, wondering if he should tell Dick what he suspected or if the other man already knew.
She had him leaning down to her level, and Terry knew that his suit would have a hard time picking up their conversation because she'd put them right under a ventilation fan. She was good, but then he should have expected that. She was Commissioner Gordon in his world.
Well, she would be.
No, she was.
Terry's head hurt from trying to figure it out, and it got worse when he factored in that she was in a wheelchair. He didn't know if that was something that had happened in his timeline or not—and he didn't know if he dared mention that she was up and walking as commissioner in his time.
Or, Terry thought, watching her hold Dick's hand as he touched her cheek, that she was married to someone else.
“So that's the ex.”
Terry almost jumped at the sound of Gage's voice. He'd been lost in thought for a while, wishing he knew how to read lips so he knew what Dick was talking about—Terry had to wonder if it was about Hush, but if Barbara Gordon wasn't a cop yet—and she couldn't be because Dick would have gone to her with this idea about cold cases, not her father—why was Dick talking to her about it? She wasn't Batgirl anymore, if she ever had been, and the reason for that seemed clear now, but then Terry was still convinced that somehow she knew about everything that had happened last night.
“The what?”
Gage grimaced. He might not have meant to say anything, at least not out loud. He gestured to Dick and Barbara. “We had a rough first meeting. She later apologized and said it was because of a complicated situation with her ex.”
“Excuse me for a minute. There's something I need to get,” Gordon said, pushing past Terry and Gage. The detective shook his head.
“I don't know why he bothered,” Gage muttered, and Terry looked at him again. “He tried to set me up with her not too long ago.”
Terry grimaced. He didn't want to be a part of this, but he couldn't help remembering what Dick had said on the car ride into town. “They're not together.”
Gage snorted, and Terry shrugged. He shouldn't have said anything, because the last place he wanted to be was anywhere near the middle of this. He didn't want to interrupt Dick and Barbara, either, but with Gordon gone, he wouldn't hear anymore about last night, and he really didn't think he had anything else to talk about with Gage. Well, he could try bringing up the Arkham escape again instead of this awkward almost triangle between Dick and Barbara and Gage.
“So... You got mind controlled by Mad Hatter?”
“Don't remind me, kid,” Gage said, and Terry winced, wondering where all of his social skills had gone. He wasn't usually this bad at interacting with people. Then again, he was out of his time and dimension. He'd blame it on that and try not to act like a dreg again.
“Sorry. New in town. Never saw the Mad Hatter before.”
“Neither had I. Actually, I still haven't.” Gage shook his head. “I don't think I want to meet him. I'm not sure what I'd do if I did.”
“I don't blame you,” Terry said, looking over at Dick and Barbara again. She was laughing and smiling, and whatever private conversation they were having was probably over by now, and since it didn't look like he was going to get anything from Gage, Terry excused himself.
He made his way over to where the others were. Dick saw him coming and waved him over, smiling and confirming Terry's theory about the private part of their talk being done. “Hey, Terry. I didn't mean to take so long. Where'd Gordon go?”
“He just said he had to get something. I'm not sure what.” Terry shrugged. “I'm not sure he likes you much.”
Barbara laughed while Dick frowned. “I'm sure it's nothing, Terry. And if it is, I suppose it's my fault.”
Dick shook his head. “I don't see how it could be. I'm the one he's mad at, after all. Though there are times that I think he suspects things I'd rather he didn't know.”
“Yeah, about that,” Terry began. “I guess even with everything that was going on, they did notice another—Slag me. I don't even know if—”
“If I know in this world?” Barbara finished for him. She nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Babs knows everything,” Dick said, and Barbara rolled her eyes at him, but her smile was fond.
“I'm glad I had a chance to meet you,” Barbara told Terry. “I wasn't sure I would be able to.”
“Yeah, well, not sure how long I'll be in town,” Terry said. He didn't know if he'd leave in the next hour, day, or even year. It was possible he was stuck here, and he didn't know what he would do if that was the case. He had a family. He had Dana. He had Max. He even sort of had Mr. Wayne. He needed to be there, not here.
“Terry, we are doing all we can to get you home, I promise,” she said, taking his hand this time. “It's not my area of expertise any more than it is Dick's, but we haven't even really started yet. Unfortunately, the experts we need have been a little... occupied of late.”
Terry nodded. He understood that. He'd worked with the Justice League in his world, and he knew how busy they could be.
“Grayson. I have those files you wanted,” Commissioner Gordon said, coming up to them with a stack of files in his arms.
“Wow, Commissioner,” Dick said, staring at the pile. “That's a lot more than I thought I asked for—or that I would get.”
“Unsolved crime's not that unusual in Gotham, unfortunately. This should keep you plenty busy,” Gordon said, foisting the files onto the younger man. “Very busy.”
“Um... Thanks,” Dick said, and Barbara frowned at her father. “Here, Terry, take a couple of these. I should make you take them all since I'm just supervising—”
“I should assign one of my detectives—”
“Now, Dad,” Barbara cut in, “you know that's not necessary. You can trust Dick. I do. And if you think about it, you have two very positive outcomes that could come from this—one, you get a case solved that was open for years. Two, you might just lure in a couple of new officers with proven skills to your department.”
“Uh,” Dick began with a frown. “I thought you hated it that I was a cop.”
“When we were dating, yes, I did.”
“Right.”
Terry cleared his throat, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of this, either. “So, how long do you think you have before Damian—”
“Damn it, we have to go,” Dick said, pushing Terry toward the door.
“Dick,” Barbara began. “Don't for—”
“Cookies later,” Dick agreed without looking back. “I won't forget.”
“Sit.”
“You cannot order me around, Grayson.”
Dick gave Damian a look, and the boy relented, sitting down in the chair opposite Terry. He glared across the table, arms folded over his chest. Terry rolled his eyes. That kid was such a dreg. And yet—he reminded Terry of Matt sometimes, too.
“Look, you think very little of the puzzles and clues and investigative part of this job, and I know it,” Dick said, focusing on Damian as he spoke. “That doesn't change anything. You said yourself you are the one who deserves your father's legacy. The plain fact is, though, that Bruce earned the title of world's greatest detective. It was that and not his ability to fight that is his legacy, the same reason why he caught your grandfather's attention and was considered worthy to be his heir. So, if you want to be a true heir of your father's legacy, you need to learn this.”
Damian glared at him, muttering under his breath. Terry figured the kid still thought it was ridiculous, but the logic Dick was using was pretty damn sound.
“With that in mind, I've skimmed these cases and chosen a couple of possibilities. This is not a competition. I am giving one of these to each of you, and I want you to look it over and analyze it. Go through the whole process. Then I want to hear your thoughts. You can ask me questions, but I won't solve it for you. If you want access to the physical evidence, we'll get it—don't go behind my back to do that. You can also ask questions of Alfred, Tim, or Barbara. Unfortunately, in both of these cases, the original investigating officer is dead, so asking them questions is impossible. I don't want you talking to any victims or involved parties until you've cleared your questions with me. That's more for you, Damian. I know your method of questioning, and trust me, it won't fly here.”
Damian grunted. “You are making the tediousness of this assignment worse.”
Terry shrugged. “Actually, it's kind of interesting. I never worked a case like this before, and I'm kind of curious to see what I can figure out. Plus, you know, solving this thing will be pretty schway.”
“Idiot.”
“Damian—”
“He's just mad because he knows I'll solve my case before he solves his,” Terry said, smiling as he leaned back with his file. It was so easy to play Damian after years with Matt. “I'm not worried. I know I can do this.”
“It's not a competition,” Dick insisted. “That's not—”
“Your inferior intellect is not intimidating,” Damian said, grabbing his folder. “I will solve my case first, pretender. Your presence remains unnecessary.”
Terry winked at Dick, who sighed. He might not have wanted it to be a competition, but that was the best way of getting that kid to do it, and Terry knew it.
“Hey, do we get cookies while we work?”