"And topping our humanitarian news this evening we have a heart warming story as inspiring as its giver is handsome and available. Gotham City’s own billionaire Bruce Wayne has sponsored a charity gala to be given later this evening to benefit both the Gotham and Bludhaven branches of the boys ranch. We caught up with him this afternoon and he had this to say..."

A pleased smile emanated from the holder of the television remote. At last, everything was falling into place. Soon, revenge would be extracted on Bruce Wayne and all whom he held dear.

"Oh man Alfred! I am not wearing that!" Dick balked at the tuxedo Alfred was handing him. How he wondered, had he let himself get talked into this? Hearing the snickering from the beanbag chair pulled up in front of the television, he instantly knew that his surrogate little brother Tim was very amused by his predicament.

"Shut up brat or I’ll make sure Alfred dresses us like twins!"

"Can’t be twins." Tim stated with a knowing expression. "Cause I’m cutier."

"That’s not what Spoiler said..." Dick ducked instantly to avoid the game controller that was thrown his way. Seeing that his little brother was going to pursue the matter, he darted out of his room and into the hall without so much as a glance to see if it was clear.

He was knocked to the floor on impact by the solid figure that had been standing silently at the door, enjoying the bickering of his two children. Taken by surprise, Dick was then ambushed by Tim, who climbing on top of him began tickling him without mercy. The two continued, one tickling, the other screaming for help until they heard uncharacteristic laughing coming from Bruce. Both pleased and surprised they stopped and gave each other a quick glance. Each read the other’s thoughts and the two jumped up and pounced on their unsuspecting target, tackling him to his knees. Bruce however was a hard man to keep down and to their amazement; they both ended up on the floor, lying on their backs, being tickled by the grand master. Neither could breathe from laughing so hard but the attacker continued unsympathetic to their pleas. Alfred stood watching, glad to once again hear laughter in Wayne Manor. Watching his family until he was certain that the boys had had enough, he then broke the attack off with just the clearing of his throat.

"Ahem."

Bruce stopped on cue, standing up he folded his arms and leaned against the hall wall.

"Boys, shouldn’t you be getting ready?" Bruce’s voice gave nothing away. As if he had just walked up and started talking. The ‘boys’ however hadn’t faired as well and were both gasping and wondering how Bruce always made everything look so easy.

"I’m not wearing that monkey suit." Dick proclaimed. Quite sure that would be the end of the conversation since he had put his foot down.

"Ahem."

Dick looked from Alfred to Bruce and then back to Alfred. He knew he had lost and dutifully took the tuxedo out of Alfred’s hands. Laughter rang out from Tim who enjoyed seeing Dick’s whipped dog expression.

"Ahem."

Tim looked from Alfred to Bruce and then back to Alfred. Uh-Oh he thought. I’m setting them straight on this right now.

"NO WAY! I hate tuxes and I hate charity benefits. I’m not going!" Seeing Alfred raise one eyebrow unnerved him however and looking like a whipped puppy, he too dutifully reached for a tuxedo.

"You both look very handsome." The teasing smile in Bruce’s voice earned him dirty looks by his two surrogate sons as they both stood tugging at their ties at exactly the same moment. They are so much alike Bruce thought, that they really could be brothers. No, Bruce realized they couldn’t be more like brothers if they were blood related, just as they couldn’t be more his own if they had been his biologically. They were his children and they were brothers. The Wayne family, he thought, with a feeling of pride.

"Now both of you stop fidgeting and go mingle. Oh, and if either of you takes off your tie I’m telling Alfred..." Bruce’s warning had the desired effect as both simultaneously took their hands down from the hated article of clothing. Yes, Bruce thought with a secret smile, brothers.

The evening passed by at a snail’s pace as far as Dick and Tim were concerned. Neither appreciated Bruce’s attempt to civilize them and were deep into conspiring ways to ‘get even’ with their mentor for their mental abuse and torture. Bruce noticed the two never got very far away from the each other as the evening wore on. The two looked even more frustrated as most of the females at the party smiled and cooed over them. Bruce understood this completely. There was something about knowing a woman was smiling at your bank account instead of you as a person. It had a way of making a man’s blood cool, no matter how attractive she was. After seeing a woman that was old enough to be Tim’s mother, running her hands through Tim’s hair, Bruce decided a rescue was in order.

"You guy’s ready to go?"

"Nope." The two chimed. It didn’t take much for Bruce to see that they had pre-planned their answer.

"Great! Then I’ll go tell Lucious that we’ll be staying another hour or so. I’ll be right back." Bruce turned to go, his smile hidden from them. They both panicked, as he knew that they would, with both grabbing an arm on each side and stopping him.

Dick glared at Bruce as he seen his smile. "You’re enjoying putting us through this aren’t you?" He accused.

"Oh yeah." Bruce chided. "Parenthood has its perks."

As the three drove home, Dick and Tim spent an unbearable amount of time arguing over which C.D. to listen to. Bruce felt sure that if he had to hear Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera one more time that he would rip the CD player out of the car completely. To settle the argument Bruce took matters into his own hands and placed a greatest hits album of Madonna in the player. Both boys knew not to argue the point. There was no reasoning with Bruce about Madonna. They were treated to having the top down on Bruce’s dark green convertible Mustang. Their hair being blown by the warm breeze, the three drove oblivious to everything except their present company, and of course the sound of Madonna singing. Dick wasn’t sure if it was the fact that Bruce had stopped singing or that he hadn’t replayed Material Girl again, but something caught his attention about Bruce’s actions. Reaching for the volume, Dick turned it all the way down and watched as Bruce continued to look in his rear view mirror. Not wanting to give anything away, Dick reached for the passenger side visor and pulling it down -- adjusted the mirror to see the car following a few car lengths behind. At first glance he could see nothing out of the ordinary about the sports utility vehicle but noticing that Bruce hadn’t objected to the CD being cut off, he thought he had better keep aware. Tim sat in the back, crouched to the front with an elbow on each of the front seats. He was watching his mentors with interest but although curiosity threatened to get the best of him, he knew better than to turn around. Bruce turned on his left turning signal, slowing more than he needed to and watching the reaction of the following car. Dick could see nothing in the utility vehicle’s actions that warranted observing, but he had far too much respect for Bruce’s instincts not to take them seriously. As Bruce turned, the utility vehicle went straight and Dick heard Tim let out a sigh of relief.

"So.. what was that about?" Dick looked to Bruce for answers. He knew by now to watch Bruce’s expressions. They often said more than he did. Continuing to watch the rear view and glancing over to side streets, Bruce did not answer right away. When he did the lightness of his tone from earlier in the evening was completely gone.

"He was following us- that I know. What I don’t know is why. Timothy, sit back and put your seat belt on." Tim obeyed silently and quickly. The three rode the rest of the way home quietly, each wondering why someone had been following the Wayne family.

"Master Dick, might I inquire as to what has Master Bruce’s full attention? He has been at the computer running down owners of sports utility vehicles like a man possessed..." Alfred thought nothing of the fact that he was calling Dick at four forty-five a.m. Dick however took a moment to realize what Alfred was asking. After the three of them had gotten back to Wayne Manor, Dick and Tim had gone on patrol of the Gotham streets as Nightwing and Robin, leaving Bruce behind in the cave. He had simply said there was something he wanted to check out. Nightwing had returned home to his Bludhaven apartment just barely an hour before Alfred’s call and had dove straight in the bed without giving the incident any further thought.

"Think he’s getting paranoid Alfred. He thought someone was following us home last night. If he were anyone else I would think he was way over reacting, but.." Dick’s sleepy voice trailed off, leaving Alfred to finish the thought for him. "But, he is the best at what he does.." Alfred knew from the silence on the other end that Dick had fallen back to sleep. Hanging up the phone, Alfred went back to the cave that dwelled beneath stately Wayne Manor. Not surprisingly, he found the Batman right were he had left him. Mumbling to himself and staring at the massive screens that belonged to the Cray computers which took up much of the first level of the ‘Batcave’ as it had been nicknamed by young Dick Grayson so many years before.

"Any luck sir?" Alfred stood by Batman’s side, as he had done so many times throughout the Batman’s career. Bruce glanced over to him, wandering just how much he should reveal to his old friend. There was no point, Batman realized, in speculating. His eyes could have been playing tricks on him. IT had been dark after all.

"I thought I found something.. but it’s probably nothing." Batman removed his cowl and the preoccupied face of Bruce Wayne now stared at Alfred. Alfred knew that look to well.

"If I may sir, perhaps some rest will help put it in the proper perspective."

"I guess you’re right Alfred. Wake me by noon will you? Lucious will kill me if I miss another meeting at WayneTech." Bruce didn’t wait for an answer, leaning back in the oversized chair in front of the computer; he closed his eyes and tried to relax. The name the computer had given him circled around and around in his mind. A young man in his early twenties, with auburn hair and hazel eyes had rented a black SUV the day before. The name on the registration was Carl Thomas. A coincidence perhaps? Somehow the Batman doubted it. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep wondering why his life always had to be so complicated.

Dick was awakened by a knock at the door. Looking at the security camera he found he didn’t recognize his visitor. A tall man that Dick judged to be at least 6’2" or 6’3" stood anxiously at the other side of his door. Dick opened the door only slightly to see what he wanted. He had hopes he could catch a few more hours sleep before he began his nightly patrol as Nightwing.

"Something I can help you with?" Dick yawned and made no attempt to hide it.

"Yeah. Some lady downstairs said that motorcycle’s yours."

"Yeah, so?"

"So I’m sorry man but I hit it. Well, just bumped it really. Don’t think I did much damage but I think you should come have a look."

The annoyed look on Dick’s face was unmistakable. "Just a minute. Got to get a shirt on."

Once downstairs, even in Dick’s sleepy condition he stopped cold at the site of the vehicle that had hit his motorcycle. A shiny new sports utility vehicle sat just behind his cycle. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

"What’s going on? Who are you? I know you were following us last night." Dick’s angry tone did little to intimidate the tall red headed man and he kept his tone confident and low.

"Name is Carl Thomas. Now be a good little Nightwing and hop in the car."

Dick tried to hide his surprise that the stranger knew of his nighttime persona. He was already bracing himself for a fight, working on a tactical plan as they walked. As if reading his mind Carl Thomas’ hazel eyes danced with mischief.

"Don’t even think about it, Bat wannabe. I have the kid and unless you want things to go really bad for him..."

Dick assessed the situation quickly. Whoever Carl Thomas was he had come to play hardball. He knew Dick’s secret identity but more importantly to Dick at the moment, he had Tim. No way was Dick going to risk anything happening to that kid. Slowly walking to the car Dick looked around to see if his visitor had brought some friends along. Noting that none were visible, Dick opted to get into the SUV. Angry that Tim was not inside, Dick’s temper threatened to become explosive. Carl Thomas however sat back and with a satisfied look pulled into oncoming traffic. Without so much as a glance in Dick’s direction. He knows he has me. Dick thought. He is too smug, this isn’t good.

"Is he alright?"

"The kid or Wayne?"

"You have BRUCE too?"

"Not yet Grayson but soon. Very soon."

Dick sank back into his seat. Who this lunatic was and what he had planned Dick wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it seemed it was going to involve the entire family.

"Mr. Wayne? Sorry to interrupt your meeting but you have an emergency phone call on line two. It’s Mr. Pennyworth sir."

Claira, Bruce’s secretary for several years was surprised by the speed in which Bruce reacted to the news. Grabbing the phone he dismissed everyone with the wave of his hand.

"Alfred? What is it? Are you alright?" The anxiousness in Bruce’s voice touched Claira. It was obvious the affection her boss had for his butler and friend. Closing the door behind her she left noticing that Bruce was pacing back and forth, absentmindedly running his hand through his ebony hair.

"Master Tim didn’t make it back to his dorm last night. I tried to contact Master Dick but he wasn’t at his apartment. I did manage to get in touch with Miss Clancy and she reported seeing Dick leave with a red headed man in a black SUV. She said he seemed upset but she saw no signs of force used."

"No. I’m sure Dick went willingly. Carl probably told Dick that he was holding Tim. Bruce stopped pacing and picked up the photo on his desk, a picture of Tim and Dick playing football wearing their matching Gotham Knights tee shirts. Was it just last night that the three of them had all been together? It seemed like a lifetime ago since he’d heard them laugh and bicker back and forth at each other and at him. If anything has happened to them...Bruce stopped that line of thought cold. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell in the common parental emotion of panic in a time like this. He was, after all, the Batman and he knew very well the importance of keeping a cool head. Still, he continued staring at the photo as he talked with Alfred.

"Carl sir?"

"Carl Thomas Alfred. Tall redheaded young man in his early twenties. Sound familiar?" Bruce waited for his words to sink in wishing this were only a nightmare that he could suddenly awake from.

"Oh my Heavens! I had thought he was still in Europe."

"Apparently not. I caught a glimpse of him last night but I wouldn’t let myself really believe it was him. If only I had acted on my instincts.."

"None of that now Bruce. This is NOT your fault! What are you going to do?"

"Well I’m not just going to wait for him to contact me. Although he will soon I’m sure."

"Are you headed home sir?"

"Yes but first I have a phone call to make. I have to find out if Carl is acting alone or if ‘she’ is with him."

"Very well sir." The sympathy in Alfred’s voice was overwhelming. "Should I call Jack Drake?"

Bruce knew that Jack should be notified. Technically, Jack Drake was Tim’s father, although Timothy had become far closer to Bruce over the last few years that he ever was to Jack. It wasn’t that Jack wasn’t a good man but he was far more interested in his business and his new wife to give Tim the attention and love he needed. Funny, Bruce thought, but he never thought about Tim actually being someone else’s son. The thought never crossed his mind until times like these and of course holidays. At those times it seemed as if it were thrown in his face. It was almost like he and Jack were divorced, both biding for custody of the teenaged child.

"Leave him out of it for now. Until we know something. Knowing Jack, he probably has no idea that Tim is even missing..."

"Oracle, run the name Carl Thomas through the coals. I want to know where he is and who he knows in Gotham. Age 22, Auburn hair, hazel eyes. 6’3" and app. 170lbs. Get back to me FAST. Batman out."

Other than a double blink Barbara Gordon showed no signs of surprise at the Batman barking orders at her with no explanation. Since her Batgirl career had ended with a crippling gunshot wound from the Joker, she had become Oracle- the world’s best information broker. Working the computer came as natural as breathing to her. As if she were born to do just that very thing. She had never thought of it that way until Nightwing had pointed it out. Now it seemed she couldn’t stop thinking about it, or him either for that matter. If there were any surprise in Batman’s ‘request’ it was the fact that he hadn’t done it himself. Usually he only asked her for major info. Must be busy with something else She mused as she quickly and skillfully began her search.

"Master Bruce have you found him yet sir?"

"Got Oracle on it." Batman was headed toward the Batmobile stopping only when Alfred grabbed his arm.

"What of ‘her’? Where you able to contact her?"

The Batman shook his head. "I tried all the contact numbers I had for her. Nothing. I left messages so if she calls while I’m out.." Batman stopped. Something had caught his attention, almost unnoticeable in the darkness of the cave. It wasn’t something seen but rather felt. At first he had thought it his imagination until he remembered his failure from last night. No, he would not doubt his instincts again.

"You can come out now." The anger in his voice became almost tangible. A dark figure emerged from its hiding spot and came face to face with the Dark Knight. The sight of her in costume only angered him more.

"I thought you promised me you were giving up your life of crime?" Batman’s words cut through her emotional defenses. She could almost feel his hatred like a dagger ripping through her.

"I did. That is what has brought us to this." She made no further attempt to explain and Alfred moved quickly to clear the dinner dishes from earlier, lest this lead to one of their more colorful arguments.

Dick rode silently with his captor making mental notes as they drove. The SUV was spotless inside and out and had a new car smell to it. Probably a rental he reasoned. The man’s accent sounded European but he couldn’t be sure. Studying the redheaded man’s features he was positive he had seen him somewhere before. Not in person he realized, but in a photo somewhere. He tried to focus on where and felt the answer just on the reach of his grasp. Just as he felt the answer would make itself known to him, his captor pulled up to a cabin in a thickly wooded area. Stopping the engine, he motioned for Dick to get out of the car. Dick had to force himself not to run inside and rip the place apart until he found Tim. Walking slowly up the wooden steps leading to the cabin Dick’s heart all but stopped. There was a splattering of blood on the three top steps and a trail of it leading into the house. Dick’s anger had reached a breaking point.

"What have you done to him?!?" Dick screamed as he turned. He never saw the lead pipe in Carl Thomas’ hand until it was half and inch from his head, by then, it was far to late.

"Don’t test me!" Batman’s thunderous voice roared throughout the cave. The woman before him seemed unimpressed as she glared back at him.

"Tell me what has happened to my sons!"

"Your SON(S)? You don’t have but one son Bruce."

"DON’T start that again!" He warned. Alfred watched as Batman’s fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly at his sides. He didn’t stay to bare witness to the argument for curiosity’s sake but rather for safety’s sake. He knew better than to leave the two of them alone for very long.

"That’s right. You would rather claim that circus trash and the neighbor’s brat than your own biological child!" As she ranted she looked around for something to throw and Alfred was again thankful he had removed the dishes prior to the heating up of the argument.

"Where are they? If you’ve hurt them..." Batman let his voice trail off because he honestly didn’t know what he would do if he lost them.

"I’m not involved in this Bruce. I came here to try to stop him. He... unpredictable."

"I think you are showing a mother’s bias don’t you? Don’t you really mean that he’s unstable?"

"And you think that’s my fault?"

"You raised him.."

"Because you wouldn’t! Because you chose the son of a circus whore over mine!" Her hand came up lightning fast slapping Batman hard enough to make his head snap back. Before she could pull it away he had it and was twisting it hard. She looked at him surprised and tried to stifle a scream.

"Let’s get something straight. If you ever again call Mary Grayson, the mother of my oldest son, a whore or any other demeaning type name- I will break this arm into so many pieces that it will be unusable to you – FOREVER." Batman twisted once more just to make sure she understood and then released it.

Looking down at the motionless bodies of Dick Grayson and Tim Drake, a pleased smile spread across Carl Thomas’ face. Their bloody bodies lied together in the middle of the cabin floor. Laughing to himself as he sang, "A hunting we will go", Carl picked up a gas can and began dousing the rustic cabin. Everything was going according to plan.

The Batcomputer whistled and Batman recognized it as being a message from Oracle. He was careful to hit the control that let Oracle see him but not the other way around. He kept the Oracle symbol up instead and chose to use the voice modifier so that his guest would not be privy to Oracle’s identity.

"Batman here. What have you got?"

"There’s a man fitting the description you gave me that rented a place on scenic drive. You know, those rustic cabins, he’s in number 3. He didn’t use the name Carl Thomas though."

"Name used?"

"Uh... It’s listed under Wayne. Carl Thomas Wayne.... Something you wanna tell me boss?"

"Batman out."

Batman had never driven the Batmobile at such high speed around the curves on the mountainous road. A feeling of dread swept over him. Glancing at his unhappy passenger, he let himself remember back to happier times with her. Times when holding her had brought contentment and the much needed balance to his life.

He had plans of marrying her until she returned his ring and went to Europe with her father Carl Beaumont. It would be some time before he would see her again but when next Andrea came into his life they had rekindled their romance and his dream of having her for his wife was, to his surprise, as strong as it had been before. His hopes were smashed however when the Batman had found out that Andrea Beaumont had become the costumed killer "The Phantasm" taking down several of Gotham’s organized criminals in revenge for the death of her father. The last time he had seen her in her Phantasm costume she had been holding the Joker by the collar and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Memories washed over him despite his fighting hard against them. He hadn’t heard from Andrea since that night until almost ten years later. She came back to Gotham with a child and presented him to Bruce with Pride. She explained that she had been in a mental hospital for at least a few of those missing years, but now she was fully recovered and they could begin their life anew. The three of them. The reunion hadn’t lasted long when she found out about young Dick Grayson. She insisted he ‘give the boy back’, refusing to accept any other solution. By the time she had again waltzed into his life he was already far to attached to the rowdy little boy with hair the color of midnight and azure eyes that danced with adventure. The boy had become Bruce’s world and there was no way he would give him up. When she too refused to bend, they had again broken up, this time permantely.

Attempting custody of the child had proven disastrous. It was all or nothing she had stated. Either Bruce give up custody of Dick and marry her, together raising their child, or Bruce would never see Carl Thomas again. Bruce assured her he would gain visitation rights and the lawyer battle had begun. That was until the day that Dick didn’t come home from school. The teacher had called Bruce and hysterically told him about a ‘man’ in a black costume coming up to Dick on the playground and then the two disappeared into a cloud of smoke. By the time he had reached the school Dick had been returned unharmed, holding a note addressed to Bruce. Simply put, it stated that if Bruce were to try to take Carl away from her that she would retaliate by taking Dick away from him. Forever. Something in the way the note had been worded made him fear for Dick’s life. He hated to think that the woman he loved, would harm a child. His child. The fact was she was more than capable of murder, as she had proven in the past. There was no way he was going to risk Dick’s life. He had a choice to make, his biological child or his foster one. He had chosen Dick and had never regretted it. Although he had been curious about his biological child he had stayed away, even now after all these years for the sake of Dick’s safety. Dick’s safety, and now Tim as well. No, he hadn’t gone looking for trouble; it had come here, looking for him.

The sudden blast of pain gave Dick his first indication that he was still alive. With great effort he opened his eyes only to realize that he couldn’t focus. He was seeing everything in three’s. Three men throwing gas all over the cabin and three little brothers that lay unnaturally still. Shaking his head to clear it, Dick managed to pull himself up on his hands and knees. The three Tim’s were beside him and he reached out desperate to find the real one. He never saw Carl Thomas coming up to him until a hard kick was given to his mid section. Dick went down once more, fighting to stay conscience. If he let himself get knocked out now he would never be able to get Tim out before the fire claimed him. This thought foremost on his mind; he knew he had to stall for time until he could get his second wind.

"Why..." Dick gasped for air. "Are you...doing this?"

He chanced a glance at Tim whose body showed no visible signs of life. I can’t lose him! Oh, God PLEASE...

"It’s part of my aggression therapy. I’m learning to control my angry feelings." With that Carl threw a lit match across the room and laughed as he saw the fear on Dick’s face.

"Anger over the fact that my father picked a circus boy over me. You stole my life Grayson. The fine schools, the best of everything, heir to a billion dollar fortune, all that should have been mine! I’m his son- not YOU!" Another kick followed, this one to Dick’s face. Years of training kept him from crying out as he reached for his blooded mouth and nose.

"So why involve Tim?"

"I’ve been watching the three of you, what a nice little family. The Wayne family. It’s easy to see what this kid means to you." Glancing over to the still figure he amended his statement. "Or should I say meant to you?"

Every muscle in Dick Grayson’s body screamed as he forced himself up and onto his little brother’s killer. He might die in the flames but he would be taking Carl Thomas with him. The act surprised Carl who had obviously thought Dick incapable of defending himself. The two landed against a wooden dining room table and they and the table went crashing to the floor. Dick the aggressor now, hit Carl Thomas repeatedly in the head and face. The flames were getting closer and the smoke was so thick that he could barely breathe. Long after Carl stopped moving Dick continued hitting him. The hatred for the man who had taken his brother from him was overwhelming. He stopped when a loud crack came from above and he looked up to see the ceiling falling down to meet him.

As Batman turned off the main road onto Scenic Drive he saw the thick smoke billowing out from the cabin. With the gas pedal floored, the Batmobile flew down the pebbled road and reached cabin #3 seconds later. Batman jumped out and ran towards the building with all the speed he could muster. Once inside, he reached the spot where Dick and Carl were just as a loud crack came from above. Realizing the ceiling was coming down and not having enough time to pull them to safety, Batman once again found himself with a choice that had to be made. He could only cover one of them with his body- but which one? Just as it had happened many years before, his heart took over making the choice for him. A split second later Batman lay on top of Dick, shielding him from debris and flames. He felt Dick’s arms around him and uncontrollable sobs coming from his son. It took a moment for his words to register but he realized Dick was saying, "Dad, he killed Tim." As Batman lifted his son in his arms he could feel Dick’s body shaking hard against him. "He killed Timmy..." As Dick felt himself began to lose consciousness he put his head down on Batman’s shoulder and cried.

"Easy son. You’ve been through a lot. Don’t try to move." Bruce’s hand pressed gently on Dick’s shoulder as he attempted to keep him from leaving the bed. Bruce had rushed him back to Wayne Manor where Alfred and Dr. Leslie Thompkins had been waiting. Leslie looked Dick over carefully noting that he had a concussion, broken ribs and smoke inhalation. Bed rest had been prescribed and that’s exactly what Bruce was going to make sure happened.

"Tim... Timmy..." Dick sank back against his pillow as the reality of what he had been through ht him once more. How could they ever go on without that kid in their lives? Dick felt hot tears as they rolled without his permission down his face. Bruce’s hand gently wiped them. Touched by the love he saw in his son’s eyes.

"It’s okay Dick. I got Tim out. He wasn’t dead only heavily drugged. Oh and he has a knot on his head that matches yours." Bruce made sure his voice was light. He had to reassure Dick.

"He’s ...he’s..."

"Yes, he’s going to be okay."

"Where?"

"He’s in the next room, sleeping like a baby."

"I want to see him."

"He’s asleep."

"Do I look like I care?!?"

Bruce suppressed a smile. Reaching down he placed an arm under Dick’s knees and the other arm around his back. He carried Dick down the hall to the next bedroom and had to fight back tears himself when he seen the look on Dick’s face at the sight of his ‘little brother’ home safe and sound. Bruce took Dick to the bed and carefully laid him down. Watching as Dick reached out and touched Tim’s hand.

"You scared me little bro." Dick whispered. Satisfied that everything was all right, Dick lay down beside Tim and placed a protective arm around him.

"So what happened to Carl Thomas?" Tim finally asked. They had all tip toed around the subject for days now. He for one wanted to know what was going on.

"He died in the fire. That Phantasm chick too." Dick declared as he watched for Bruce’s reaction.

"Not necessarily Dick. I pulled you out and then ran back in to find Tim. As I did I saw Andrea with her arms around Carl and then... they disappeared in a cloud of smoke. After I got Tim out I went back in but couldn’t find either of them."

"So..so he, they, could still be alive?" An uneasy Tim looked at his big brother with wide eyes.

"It’s very possible. Knowing Andrea, I would even say probable." The three stopped their conversation when a very excited Alfred came rushing into the room.

"Master Bruce, the DNA test results are back."

Dick and Tim exchanged looks as Bruce opened the envelope. He looked surprised but said nothing. Then opening the second envelope he gasped.

"Bruce what is it? Is Carl Thomas your son?"

"According to this which is 99% accurate, no, Carl Thomas is not my son."

Dick let out the breath he had been holding. "Well that’s good!" Then looking at Bruce he added, "Isn’t it?"

Bruce made no comment but continued to look at both papers in his hands.

"Master Bruce, if I may, what was in the second envelope?"

Bruce walked away from where they had all been sitting in the study. He came to stand in front of the large glass doors that led outside to Alfred’s flower garden. There he stared a long time into the night. When he finally answered, his voice was shaking ever so slightly and Alfred noticed that he again was clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

"I checked Carl Thomas’ DNA against mine and one other."

"And the other was?"

"The hospital where Andrea had spent some time in Europe said they had the impression that she had been physically attacked causing her to have a nervous break down."

"My word sir! Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"Yes Alfred. The man who is Carl Thomas’ biological father attacked her. I truly believe that Andrea has blocked it out completely and she really believes me to be his father."

"So.. Who IS the father Master Bruce?"

Dick and Tim watched back and forth knowing under the circumstances that Alfred would get far more information out of Bruce than they could. The question seemed to hang in the air for an eternity until Bruce found the voice to answer.

"The JOKER."

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