"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to keep, and a time to throw away; A time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Bzz…Bzz…Bzz…

A hand shot out from under the covers and slapped the alarm clock.

Silence.

Finally, some movement from under the thick pile of bed sheets produced a pair of blue eyes set in a thin face topped with wavy black hair. After a while a sigh followed by a groan escaped from the now sitting form of a young man.

Dick stumbled out of bed and stretched his sore muscles. He walked half asleep to the bathroom. Ten minutes later he emerged freshly showered and shaved. He dressed quickly pulling on some old jeans and a gray Tommy Hilfiger shirt. Going into the kitchen, he grabbed a pop-tart and poured a glass of milk, both of which he downed in record time. Jogging to the door, Dick threw on his Gotham Knights jacket and reached out for the table where he placed his keys.

"Waitaminute! My keys!" Dick looked around wildly. He started to spin and throw things around searching frantically. "Crap a dog!" he groaned. "It never fails when I'm running late!"

Suddenly he stopped in mid-twirl. Spotting the crumpled clothes he had worn the day before, Dick said, "Yes!" He ran over to the pile of clothes on the floor and grabbed the pair of jeans plucking the keys from the pocket.

"I'm outta here!"

Turning outside his door to lock up, Dick jumped at the deep but soft voice behind him.

"Running late, Mr. Grayson?" Amygdala asked innocently.

"'Fraid so, pal," Dick said with a quick grin.

"Have a good day!" Amygdala called to the now sprinting form of Dick Grayson.

Dick turned slightly giving a little wave as he bolted out the door.

Hogan looked up as the bell on the door rang loudly. Dick practically skidded into the bar. Hogan chuckled to himself as he threw Dick an apron and said, "Glad you could join us today."

"Sorry, I couldn't find my keys…" Dick muttered.

Shaking his head, Hogan just laughed and walked away. The door that leads into the back of the building and into the upstairs living area swung open. A preteen, dark-complexioned boy peeked out.

"Hey Dick! Guess what!"

"Hi, Micheal! What's up?" Dick answered.

"Mr. Hogan said that if I have a good report card, he would let me go see a movie or football game!" Micheal said excitedly.

"Really? Man, it must be nice," Dick said, thinking how Bruce never did anything special for good grades. He just expected good grades.

"You also have to work for that movie or football game," Hogan reminded with a pointing finger. "Here, go run these down to the mailbox for me."

"Yes sir," Micheal grabbed the letters and took off.

Hogan gave a little grin, "He's a great kid. With everything he's been through, he still just wants to do right and please people. Do you know he has never been to a movie or football game?"

Dick stopped what he was doing and looked at Hogan in disbelief. "Never been to a …I guess it makes sense. He's been on the streets for most of his life."

"Yeah, poor kid. But let me tell you, Micheal is definitely a diamond in the rough. I'm really proud of him." Hogan smiled his approval as he moved off.

Dick stepped out of Hogan's and headed down the sidewalk towards his apartment. He was tired from a busy day at work and was ready to rest a few hours before suiting up for his other job as Nightwing.

Dick walked slowly up the stairs and unlocked the door to his apartment. He stumbled over to his bed and laid down fully dressed falling asleep almost immediately. Less than ten minutes later, he was bolted awake.

"Hey Shortpants, are you there?"

"Babs?" Dick thought groggily.

"No, it's the Great Pumpkin, Sherlock. What were you doing? Sleeping? And here I thought you were on a hot date!" Barbara tsked.

Smiling, Dick said, "I wish…"

Ignoring his snide comment, Barbara said, "I'll let you get back to snoozing, but I wanted you to know that Bruce has asked about you for 3 nights in a row. Why don't you give him a call when you get the chance?"

"Why can't he give me a call?" Dick shot back. After a short pause, Dick sighed, "I'm sorry, Babs. I just get so frustrated with him at times."

"I know, Dick. Just keep trying. Bruce is improving. Slowly, but surely," Barbara encouraged.

"Alright, I'll call…but it's Bruce's turn next. And Alfred doesn't count!" Dick stated firmly.

Barbara started to chuckle.

"What?!?"

"You just had this look on your face that screamed Bruce! I'm serious, you looked just like him," Barbara choked out.

"Oh, shut up! I did not…" Dick started to protest.

"Don't get your cape all in a wad, Grayson. I think the former Boy Wonder has definitely stayed up past his bedtime."

"Sorry Babs. I guess I am a little on the tired and grouchy side," Dick admitted.

"That's okay. Get some rest! Oracle out."

Dick flopped back on his bed and slept soundly for 3 hours. When he woke up, Dick felt better. He rolled off the bed and headed for his closet to suit up as Nightwing when his eye caught the phone.

"Bruce," Dick thought. "Why in the world would he be asking about me?"

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. The date. Tomorrow would be the three-year anniversary of Jason's death.

"Oh God! I should have remembered! Forget the phone call, I'll go for a visit," Dick talked to himself as he headed for his closet to pack.

It was midnight when Alfred heard Dick's motorcycle pull up in front of Wayne Manor. Alfred smiled slightly while breathing a sigh of relief. He hadn't been available for Master Bruce lately. His time was being spent assisting Master Timothy at Brentwood Academy. But even on his short and rare trips to the manor, Alfred could see that Master Bruce was lonely. Barbara had even told Alfred that Bruce had stayed at her place the other night for over 30 minutes for no apparent reason. Of course, Bruce would never admit to being lonely, but he was human. Humans are social creatures. It is that simple.

Then there was the date to consider as well. Alfred knew well that this is one day that Bruce did not want to be alone. Bruce would never say anything or ask for company, but Alfred was wise and could see through any mask Bruce might try to hide behind.

Alfred opened the door for Dick with a great sense of relief and pride. This young man would provide Master Bruce with the company and stability he needed to get through the next couple of days.

"Master Dick, what a pleasant surprise!"

"Hey Alfred, how are you doing?" Dick asked as he bounded up the steps to the door.

"I am faring well. I dare say, young sir, you look like you could stand a home cooked meal," Alfred admonished, looking critically at Dick.

Dick had lost weight, but he had attributed that to being sick and then having to finish his courses at the police academy.

"I don't guess I'll complain if you try to fatten me up," Dick quipped. "Has Bruce left already?"

"Is it dark yet?" Alfred answered dryly.

"Dumb question, dumb answer, huh?"

Alfred chuckled and then asked, "Will you be joining him or shall you await his return?"

"Let me go down and see if I can get him to answer my calls," Dick said.

Dick sat down in the seat that Batman usually occupied in front of the huge computer and equipment. Dick reached over and punched the communication button that would hail Batman's attention.

He didn't have to wait long. Batman's image appeared on the screen.

"Dick?" Batman's voice sounded more like he was asking a question, which was the only sign of his surprise at seeing Dick's face instead of Alfred's on the miniature screen inside the batmobile.

"Hiya, Bruce. Busy tonight?" Dick asked lightly.

"Not particularly. I was thinking of heading home a little early."

"In that case, I'll stick around here. Alfred said something about a home cooked meal. Maybe we can eat and trade old war stories."

"Whatever you say, Dick. I should be home shortly." Batman's voice was flat and unemotional, but Dick could swear he saw the corners of Batman's mouth curve ever so slightly upward.

When the batmobile pulled into the Cave and Batman emerged, Dick was concentrating deeply on a huge version of the game Minesweeper. Without turning from the computer, Dick called, "Hey Bruce. I think I'm fixing to beat my top score!"

Bruce pushed the cowl back from his face. He gave a half grin and said, "Tim topped your highest score last week, Dick. Didn't you notice?"

"What? Why that little…Oh man! Shoot! I hit a mine," Dick complained as the screen began to flash "Game Over."

Dick turned around in the chair to face Bruce for the first time. He noticed the dark circles under the older man's eyes and the pale color of his cheeks.

"I don't want to sound like Alfred, Bruce, but you look like you could use about a 24 hour nap."

"I'm fine," Bruce said shortly.

"Oh come on Bruce! Don't be sore. I'm making a simple observation. After we eat, we'll both get some shuteye and then about midday we can find something to do. Hey aren't the Gotham Knights playing in the afternoon? We could catch the game."

"Dick, I know why you are here and what you are doing. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm not in the mood to go out on the town as Bruce Wayne."

"So what do you have in mind?" Dick had a hopeful expression on his face, but Bruce gave him a look that dashed any hope away.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Bruce had the sound of finality in his voice.

Dick thought quickly. He knew what he had to say and what he had to do. He hated it. But Bruce was leaving him no choice in the matter.

"Okay, you sit here and sulk in this cave all day. If that's how you want to honor Jason's life, it's fine by me. However, I believe that if Jason were here, he would want to do something fun and exciting. So I'll honor him by making tomorrow a very fun and memorable day. In fact, I know who I'm going to invite to join me," Dick said in a very matter of fact voice.

Bruce just started to move off towards one of the changing closets, not saying a word.

"Aren't you even curious who I have in mind?" Dick asked exaggeratedly.

"No."

"It's not Tim."

"He's at Brentwood," Bruce stated the obvious.

"It's not Alfred."

"Dick, I'm not going to play this game with you."

"You already are," Dick pointed out. "Besides, I've included you in my plans for tomorrow. You have to play along whether you want to or not."

Bruce came back into view wearing sweat pants and a blue t-shirt. "What do you mean "included me in your plans"?"

"Well, you see, I invited some friends over for lunch and then got some tickets to the game…" Dick felt like he was a kid again who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What friends?"

Dick looked up and smiled encouragingly, "You remember Mr. Hogan, the guy who owns the bar I work at, and this little boy who is living with him. His name is Micheal. It will be great fun Bruce! Come on, just for one little afternoon."

"You should have talked to me first Dick."

"Maybe, but would you have agreed?"

Before Bruce could answer, a call from the top of the stairs caught both men's attention.

"Masters, your meal is ready."

Without a second glance at Bruce, Dick scrambled out of the chair and leaped up the stairs. Bruce took in a deep sigh and followed at a slower pace.

After eating in silence for almost ten minutes, Dick cleared his throat and looked at Bruce. Bruce really wasn't eating, just moving the food around on his plate with a fork. Dick looked down at his own plate, which was almost empty and had been scraped clean in some spots.

"Bruce, if it's going to be that big of a burden on you, I can call Mr. Hogan back and tell him you got sick or something. I just wanted to make sure that today was special," Dick said almost pleading. Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but Dick beat him to the punch.

"Not just make it special for you or me. But for Micheal. Did I ever tell you about Micheal?"

"Not that I can recall."

Dick then told Bruce about how he had met Micheal. Micheal had been just a street kid called Mutt. Unfortunately, Mutt had decided to break into an apartment and make off with some goods. Fortunately, the apartment he broke into was Dick's. Bruce just sat and listened to the whole story without saying a word. If he was impressed with Dick for helping the troubled youth out by finding Micheal a place to live, Bruce showed no sign of it.

Dick finally finished by saying, "Micheal has been doing so well and improved so much that Mr. Hogan and I thought he deserved something special. Micheal said he would love to go to a football game. Do you know that he's never even been to a football game?"

At this last question, Bruce looked up. Dick could see the pain that seeped through those deep blue eyes. Bruce took in a quick breath and said, "I don't guess I have a choice then."

Smiling, Dick said, "Now you see what I mean! This kid comes from the same type of background that Jason did. Out on the streets, nobody gives a rip, and nothing to do but get into trouble. But now, he's got a chance. Someone gave him a chance to live a better life and Micheal is making the most of it. Just like Jason."

"No. Jason didn't get the chance he deserved. I ruined it for him." Bruce sounded so tired at that moment. Dick had to blink his eyes quickly. I'm not going to cry, am I? Dick thought suddenly.

"Bruce, what happened to Jason wasn't your fault. Look, you did your best to help him. That's all you could do, all anyone could ask you to do…I don't know why Jason died, Bruce. I wasn't there and I can't ask him what happened. But I do know this, you gave Jason the best that life could offer. A place to call home, security, clothes, food, an education, friendship, knowledge of right and wrong….and love. Bruce, you gave him love. The kind of love that every boy needs. The love of a father. Unconditional love." Dick was looking right at Bruce, drilling holes into his face.

Bruce looked down and shook his head, "A lot of good that did him."

"More than you will ever know, Bruce. But I know, because that's what you gave to me. Bruce, you gave me all of those things too. But I would have taken your love over the money and crime fighting any day," Dick said this slowly and determinedly.

"I'm tired," Bruce said and he started to move off.

"Walking away won't ease the pain. You should know that by now."

Bruce looked back over his shoulder at Dick. "Don't make me do this Dick. I don't think I can…" Bruce suddenly choked. To Dick's amazement, Bruce then slid down onto his knees, held his head in his hands, and began to weep.

Dick was too shocked to move at first. Then he went over to Bruce's bent form. Dick found himself on his knees right beside Bruce. Oh great! Now I'm crying too. What a bunch of macho men we are!

"Bruce," Dick's voice croaked. "We can get through this together. It's okay to cry. At least that's what Barbara tells me. And she knows everything."

Surprisingly, Bruce gave a tearful laugh, "Yeah, she told me it was a great stress reliever."

After a few more seconds, both men were sitting on the floor wiping away their tears when Bruce stated simply, "I miss him."

"I know. I'm sorry. I wish that I had gotten the chance to know him better. I've learned my lesson well, though," Dick said seriously.

Bruce gave him a sideways look, "That's why you have taken so much interest in Tim, isn't it?"

"I guess so. I feel so protective of him at times, it scares me," Dick smiled and continued. "I guess I know how you felt now."

Silence ruled for about a minute. Then Dick looked up, "I dream about Jason from time to time. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. When I was unconscious at Blackgate, Jason was there. It was kinda like my whole life was flashing before me and Jason was there questioning every little aspect of it."

Bruce was quiet for a little while longer. Then he looked up at Dick. "Dick, thanks for being here. I needed you." Then with a twinkle in his eyes, Bruce asked, "So what time is the game?"

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