The Memoirs

Dick was still smelling like soap when they got to the construction site.

It was the most royal disaster Bruce had ever seen in his life, though it seemed to be organized chaos. Somewhat. They had to wait in a line of cars for nearly thirty minutes, took another ten to find a place to park, and by the time Bruce was pulling the car off he was in a fiiiine temper. He was as cool as glass, about everything. ...Except traffic. He loathed it, and how he missed Alfred in that moment. Black coat, black driving gloves, black suit, black brief case. "Don't forget your crutches, Dick."

Like I could, Dick thought to himself. "Got 'em right here," he answered instead, thanking Christ for the asphalt under his crutches and feet instead of rough terrain. He pulled himself out of the car using the crutches, and was on his feet by the time Bruce came around to him, and he met his lover at the back of the car.

Bruce got the extra paperwork from the trunk and kept hawk eyes on the man he loved, as he opened the umbrella for the both of them and put his work under his arm. It was drizzling lightly… too much for his lover. Didn't want him ill, at all, so he carefully kept him close to his person. He didn't want him wandering off and getting hurt. Again. "This way."

"Thanks."

Mother henning. He hated it, he knew, but he deserved it too. He had been a bitch lately, and so he didn't say a word, just staying close to Bruce as he moved slowly up the newly-paved path, wrinkling his nose at the smell of tar and asphalt under his feet.

"Christ, I hate this place."

As did Pete, more than any moment of his entire life in any place. He froze next to Shayla, where they'd been helping dig up some still unpaved ground for a pipeline, and stared. Couldn't help the shake through his body at seeing him, and he turned and looked at her with something akin to disbelief… fear. "Oh."

Shayla bristled instantly, and her hands tightened around the handle of the shovel she was digging with. "What the fuck is that son of a whoremaster doing here!" she swore, just loudly enough to get a disapproving glance from Asskick and a few wide grins from the construction workers clustered close.

"Shayla, shut up." Pete said quietly, but firmly, head ducking down as he crouched low to hand one of the workers a huge wrench.

Dick looked up at the loud swearing, rolled his eyes, and nearly lost his balance. "Motherless fucker. You see? I told you my luck wasn't that good." Dick just shrugged at Bruce, and as soon as he got his footing back, his pace picked up as he headed towards the main office trailer.

"Fine, but if he comes near you, I'm busting his melon head wide fucking open," she hissed quietly.

"No. Let me handle it." Pete said quietly, as he handed the workers another huge section of pipe.

Bruce stayed quiet, silent as he led Dick up the steps of the trailer, and knocked twice on the door.

Lex was already behind the desk, on his third cup of coffee. "Come on in, Dad. Told you Charlie was still hiding from you after this morning," he called out, head buried in a computer printout.

"Its Bruce, Lex." And he came in, stepping up the final step onto linoleum and turning back, for his lover. "We decided to get out of the house a little bit." He closed the door firmly behind Dick, looking across the compound at Pete once before shutting the door a little more firmly than he intended. "We... stopped by to say hello. Cabin fever."

Lex put his feet down on the floor at that. "I'm glad you did; we can always use a few more hands around here. Dick... if you want to visit, you can, otherwise, I've got work for you to do, if you're willing." Lex could tell from the slam of the door that Bruce was a little itchy, and if he could get Dick working, then he could get Bruce out and talk. "What do you say? Want to make yourself useful, or just freeload and drink what laughingly passes for coffee here?"

Dick nodded. "I'd like to work, Lex."

"Thank God." Lex picked up a box and a half of contractor reports. "Here you go. I need these read, summarized, alphabetized, and filed so I can present them to Dad whenever he shows up." He pointed towards the living room of the trailer, where a row of four computers sat, two by two. "Pick a machine and go for it; it's already got macros installed for every one of the teams, and there's a laminated sheet that'll tell you--"

"Which macro is for which team. Yeah, I got this down, Lex. This is nothing. You should see the system Bruce set up to catalogue his DVDs."

"Who do you think wrote this program for us, Dick?" Lex clapped the injured man on the shoulder. "Need another chair for the cast?"

"No, I'm good."

"Just be gentle on the enter key. Lex is good. Great, even. Just not fabulous." Dead panned so you didn't know if he were joking or not, as he set his briefcase down on the desk and opened it, shucking out of his coat and settling down into the chair before the desk.

Lex shook his head. "Don't get too comfy, Bruce. You and I need to make a quick tour so we can both report back to Dad and Dominic, assuming Dominic survives this flu he's got."

"That's fine." He took out his pen carefully and looked up from his work. "Let me know when. I'm going to finish the reports I myself have started, so our leaving won't leave you high and dry."

"Well, I was trying to subtly imply, now, but since you didn't get it... we're going out now, Bruce."

"That's fine." He climbed back to his feet and strode the trailer to give his beautiful lover a kiss on the cheek, before he got his coat and gloves once more. "Lead the way."

Lex shrugged into a leather bomber jacket that had been tossed over the chair, a jacket that smelled distinctly like Clark, and he grinned. "We'll be back in a bit, Dick. Yell or call on the cells if you need anything."

A waved hand over his head was his only answer, pencil caught between his teeth as he immersed himself.

Lex laughed, and held the door open for Bruce. "After you, mon capitaine."

Too much happiness. He was mid way through a stunner of a brood, and he slid his coat on, pushing his glovers on as well before sliding his fingers into his pockets. "What does the report need to say?"

Lex was quiet, and he didn't say anything, just looking at his old friend. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were brooding. Again."

"Fuck off, Luthor." Though it was said easily and deadpanned again, as their shoes crunched on loose gravel.

Lex clicked his tongue gravely. "Yessir, that's a beauty of a Wayne brood you've got going on there. Care to tell me what's got the bats in your belfry stirred up this time?"

"Dick." To the point. Cold.

"I see. Would you care to be more explicit, or are we playing Bait the Brooding Bruce?"

"You're such an asshole."

"Yes, I am." Lex walked quietly beside his friend. "But I'm also the only asshole who's got the balls to stand up to you."

"Yes, you do." He stayed silent for a long moment, as they walked noisily across the compound and the cold rain trickled down. "Dick's really depressed, Lex."

"About what happened? All right--don't glare, stupid question." He held his hand up in surrender. "Has he talked at all about it?"

"No." He stopped mid glare, rubbing a hand through his hair in a nervous tick he'd had since he was very young. And he had quite the mane of hair, so it made doing it more majestic then he thought. He ignored the students and workers, only saying hello when he absolutely had to, and glanced to his long time friend. "At all. Refuses to. He jerks away every time I try to kiss him."

Lex shook his head slowly. "Not that you need me to tell you this, but you need to get him to talk to you about it." He paused under Bruce's glance. "It... doesn't take a rocket scientist to put together what happened, Bruce."

"He raped Pete." Said quietly, gently. "I know, because he's beating himself up over it. I don't want him… him to get over it like nothing happened." He didn't know how to explain himself further than that, eyebrows furrowing deeply.

"You just want him to realize that its not his fault, because he was under the influence? Tell me, Bruce. If you had done something like that, under the influence of someone else, would you feel guilty about it, or would you just write it off?"

"Lex, I feel guilty for killing the dust bunnies under my bed when I was five."

Lex couldn't help it; despite the seriousness of the situation, the corners of his lips quirked. "Then how can you expect Dick to be any less like you in this respect than he is in any other?"

"I know. God, dammit." he said it darkly, and burrowed into his coat from the hair dampening his hair. "I hate seeing him like this. I don't want him to turn into me, Lex."

"You can't stop that, Bruce. No matter how hard you try. He is you. He already is you, more like you than either of you realize... only Dick talks more and likes little children."

Bruce's eyes flashed at Lex as he glared, even if their was amusement in his face that he fought violently against. "That's not funny."

"But yet, strangely true."

"Fuck you." Though his own lips curved, and he glared at his friend even harder for it. A moments thought, though, as he looked at their shoes. "I didn't want him to become me."

"That decision wasn't yours to make," Lex said softly. "That decision was made the instant Dick was orphaned."

"I couldn't say no to him." Softly. "He was Clarks age. A little older. I was....your age." A look over at him. "I couldn't say no to him. His parents dying was so violent, and that first night... I had to lure him to my bikes to keep him." A little smile. "Chase Meridian and her hundred thousand dollar legs coming over didn't hurt either."

"Aaah, yes. I remember reading about you and the good doctor. I was actually quite surprised you never sicced her on me, after she got done pawing around in your belfry."

"She wanted what was in the belfry, and not what was in my pants." A hand wave. "Much too clinical. And she had big lips. I don't like big lips on women. It makes it seem like their face is melting together."

A barely strangled snort, and Lex nearly choked on it.

"What?"

"Noth--nothing," Lex stammered out, mouth spread wide in a grin.

The grin was helped by the fact he could feel himself getting closer to his aushna'.

"You know who would do Dick a world of good?"

"If it ends in the word 'extreme', then no, Lex."

Lex shook his head. "Clark."

Clark had a natural gift. It didn't have anything to do with being an alien, and having super powers, which, by the by, Bruce was insanely jealous over. No. He was just... a nice person. A very kind, naturally happy, person. And that person, who had gone into hiding when the baby had been born, had been hopping around the house recently, and it warmed his heart. "You know, that's not a bad idea."

"Name one time I've ever had a bad idea."

"The time your hummer ended up in my living room. The time you took my boat out for a joy ride across Gotham Sound. The time you thought dressing up as women to go to that benefit would be so funny."

"I said bad, not stupid. But I get your point. Let me rephrase that. Name once in the last five years, since I've sobered up, that I've given you bad advice."

A moments thought. "Never."

"Then we'll have Clark and Dick meet up tonight after work--Dad and Dom are supposed to be in Metropolis tonight, but with Dominic sick, I think Dad's probably going to spend the night working in his bedroom instead, so if you and Dick want to have dinner with us, let me know and I'll call Ms. Bird."

"I think so." A nod at him, softly. "I think Dick would like that. Thank you, Lex." He shifted to his weight absently as they paused at the buildings, and the gorgeous fence that kept the area safe from the press. "You...thank you."

"You're welcome, but come on. You don't have to thank me. That's what friends are for." Lex held his hand out to his friend.

"I can't lose him, to anything. I don't...know what I'd do."

"You won't. I think between him talking to Clark, and you taking him back home--you'll be sorely missed, by the way--that he'll be back on his feet, once he's in familiar surroundings with someone he loves."

"We need to go home." He said softly, as he squeezed Lex's shoulder tightly. "We really... we just need to go home."

"I know you do, Bruce." He sighed. "I'll miss you. I've gotten very used to having you around... it's going to be hard to see you go."

"I'll come by now and again. Now that I'm waist deep in LuthorCorp, there's not much choice." A shake of his head, as his hands slid into his coat pockets. He raised his head to look at the beautiful buildings in front of him, and looked at Lex to lead the way. "I'm only glad I was here for you, for once, when you needed me. I love you, you know, Lex."

"I know, Bruce. And I love you." He looked up at his old friend. "I don't know what I would have done without you here. I just... know it wouldn't have been pretty." He raised onto his tiptoes and gave his friend a soft, friendly kiss. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course." he kissed him back just as softly and wound an arm around his chest in a soft hug, before letting go and clearing his throat. A head motion towards the buildings, where a man was bellowing at someone else, a girl was sobbing, and the radio was blasting easy rock. "What's left on these?"

"Despite Mr. Ross's tendency towards terrorizing his help and despite Emily's tendency towards tears and incompetence, they've actually done quite magnificently together as a team. Nearly all the interior paintings are restored. There are several charcoal drawings that are going to be replaced over the weekend by Mr. Ross's younger brother, and when they're done, the restorations will be nearly complete. The last thing to be done is the ceiling dome in my father's building, but that's a long term project that'll extend over the next couple of months. The existing homes and the renovated townhouses are ready for residence, and we're nearly caught up on the other building. The weather has stalled some of our efforts, as you can tell, but the crews have been working overtime for the last week to catch up. They'll be working on Saturday and Sunday too, and the school is recruiting about two to three hundred kids to work the weekend as well."

"That's... amazing." Bruce just shook his head, craning his head to see the lovely statue and mold work on the outside of the buildings themselves. "Only you people could have pulled a project like this off. This is beautiful, Lex." A glance over at him. "Has he talked to the school commission about building new ones out here? You'll need at least another elementary, middle, and high school. Though, the high school is really big, isn't it? It shouldn't be that bad."

"Yes, he has. And that's where half our trouble is coming in at. LuthorCorp isn't allowed to fund the schools or to build the actual buildings for the town. They're public schools, and therefore, have to be built by the educational system and all that happy horseshit, and I do mean horseshit, Bruce. The only possible way we could get around it is to build the schools, charter them as private schools for the next five years, and then when the charter runs out, sell the school to the public school system and let them convert it. However, we'd have to run the school as a functioning school for the five years of the charter."

"Then charter it. What's the problem with that? I'm sure more than a few of the women coming with their husbands to this town are school teachers. There are going to be a lot of people looking for a new job, and I sincerely doubt that you won't get the school filled with both children and teachers. Elementary... perhaps from kinder to sixth grade. The high school is one of those schools that has a programs from the seventh grade on, correct?"

Lex shook his head. "Nobody in this town will be able to afford private school tuition, Bruce. You know that as well as I do. Dad and I have already looked into it, and half the families here are barely making it as it is. Unless we made a huge, single school for kinder through senior, then there's no way in hell a private school would survive her without bankrupting the entire community."

Bruce glanced at him. "Then don't charge the citizens anything. Or if you have to, charge them five dollars. If you need it, I'll foot the bill. To run a single year it'll take...what? Half a million?" A shrug. "Lex, I make that money on interest on only one of my bank accounts every three months. I can pay for it, I don't mind. I don't know if I can explain it to you, but education means a lot to me." He shrugged again, softly. "There's a lot of poverty in Gotham. A lot of kids who can't go to school. And Smallville can't become that."

Lex kept talking as he walked. "It's not the money that's the problem, Bruce. Hell, I could personally finance it and so could Dad. It's the town. Smallville is small, and it's poor. We're having to watch the money we pump in now with all the construction so that inflation doesn't skyrocket out of hand. Dad's got a few contacts that he's pulling some strings with, and we're hoping that the next referendum that passes is going to be one that lets LuthorCorp donate "a portion" of the proceeds necessary to the educational building fund, or whatever it is they have here. The biggest road block to that is still, unfortunately, the Luthor name."

"That's what I mean. Make it the Wayne name. I'm a little more liked then you both." A smirk at his young friend, the first of the day. "They can't help it. You both are the bad boys of business. I'm a saint. So let me fund it."

"It isn't my fault Dad's got Ruthless Aggression down as an art form. But, we'll talk to him tonight about it; I know it's an issue he's fighting over himself, and this is the best option we've got. Either way, construction on the schools won't begin until this summer anyway. We've already got a line on books, desks, lockers, everything else, and we're just waiting for the buildings to be built, basically."

"It should be called the Lillian Luthor school." Bruce said absently, as he detoured and poked his head into one of the buildings, the first on the horse show like way the buildings had been set up, with the Zeus building at the head. But this....it was the Apollo building, and even he couldn't help the eyes wide glance in. Apollo and his horses, the magnificent golden chariot and the beautiful, blinding sun swept across the domed roof, the horses coming around to curve on the far wall. Everything was tiled with flawless marble stone floor, and the statues on each side of the enormous receptionist desk just... WOW. "Christ, I wish Id found this place first." But he winked at Lex softly, as he let the glass door shut again as he rejoined his friend.

"Dad's adamant. Nothing's going to be named after my mother, except the memorial park on the hillside there. I don't know why."

"Really?" His eyebrows furrowed. "That's odd."

"Yeah, it is, but I'm not asking him about it. It's a bit of a sensitive subject for both of us, and the last thing we need is to be fighting over Mother again."

"Maybe its because of Dominic?" He turned his head a little bit, and changed the subject abruptly. "How's the baby coming along?"

At that, Lex smiled. "If the cyclotron finishes tonight, I can start the genetic combining tomorrow, then it'll be ready for fertilization and implantation by midweek next week."

His lips quirked. "Are they excited?" Stepped over a bit of lumber sprawled out in the middle of the walkway, as well as the wires, drills roaring inside of the Aphrodite building as they walked towards the one Lionel was surely working hard in. "They deserve it."

"Dominic's about to burst a blood vessel over it; I think Dad's excited too, but in a much more subdued way. Rumor has it they're going cradle-shopping soon."

"I'm happy for them. They deserve a little baby." He glanced over at his friend, and because Bruce knew him so well, asked, "Are you jealous of her yet?"

"Bruce, I'm not going to be jealous of someone who hasn't even been born yet." But he walked beside Bruce quietly. "But I do envy her. She's going to have a family who loves her, who always loves her, and she's never going to have to question that."

"And with her birth, I think you won't have to anymore, either." He maneuvered around a crew carrying a large plate of glass. "You get to have the sibling you always wanted. And when Dominic and Lionel are killing each other over how she should be raised, you'll be the one doing the fun stuff with her. Are you kidding? You're the Cool Older Brother. There is nothing cooler in the world than that."

Lex nodded. "I know. I just... I envy the fact that she'll grow up knowing that she's loved and adored. They've already started calling her their little princess, Bruce. I'm not jealous. I've made peace with the way I grew up and the person it turned me into. Part of me is glad that she'll never have to go through it."

"Do you think they'll love you any less when she's born?"

"No. I really don't. I just think they'll love her more because she is both of theirs. I don't think anything will change about how they deal with me." Lex pushed open the glass doors of the Zeus building.

"I've seen how they....deal with you." A sharp look at his friend as he entered the building. "They love you more than you think. But you always were unable to take the love handed to you. Not that I'm any better, mind y--" A splash of brown and yellow fell down right in front of him and he stared at it, processing it a moment before craning his head up.

She'd been moved from the harness to the wobbly wooden thing, where you laid down to paint the ceiling. And she just screamed, sobbing hysterically as all her paint fell.

Lex jerked Bruce back a few steps as he saw the paints falling towards them and danced back himself, out of the line of fire, and he looked up calmly. "Good morning, Emily."

Hard. Hard. Snuffle. "H-H-Hello, M-M-Mr. Luthor. I-I'm having a b-b-b-b-bad da-day." First coffee all over, then breaking the stuff at the Talon, then making a fool of the cock thing with Charlie, then coming in and falling butt first in a huge bucket of paint, then getting a piece of caulk in her eye, and NOW THIS.

"Emily, Bruce Wayne. Bruce, this is Emily." Lex looked down at shoes that had barely escaped splattering.

"EMMIE! I AM GONNA GLUE THAT SHIT INTO YO HANDS!" bellowed Dogwood.

She peaked over the edge, whimpering when she saw, yeah, the richest man in the world and god, he was so much cuter in real life. A tentative wave, another whimper. "I'm... sorry? I... didn't mean. To! I was... and my elbow. I'm sorry?"

Dogwood slid down the ropes on the scaffolding to hang in the air in front of Bruce and Lex. "Sorry about that, Little L."

Lex grimaced at the nickname, but didn't say anything. "Wasn't any trouble; we got out of harm's way this time. However, you might want to consider mounting a sign on the door that reads, Falling Paint Zone or something such. Just to warn people."

Emily just sobbed all the more, wailing as she covered her paint ridden hands over her face, effectively smearing color all over.

"War zone. Kind of amusing." Bruce held his hand out. "Bruce Wayne. You must be Dogwood Ross. I came to a gallery opening of yours last fall. Beautiful work...I like your Human Nature piece the most. Its actually sitting in my living room, now."

Dogwood let out a low whistle. "You're the big man who shelled out quarter million for that. Lincoln Price still won't buy a damned thing from me cause you outbid him for that one." He shook Bruce's hand firmly. "Nice to finally meet you."

Bruce's chuckle wasn't completely innocent. "He doesn't appreciate true art. He bought the DeFranco piece last year, for Christ's sake." But because he was happy to finally meet one of his favorite artists, he shook back just as firmly, and nodded. "Its an honor, Mr. Ross. When I heard you were the one doing the remodeling out here, I knew I had to say hello."

Rude, rude snort. "DeFranco paints with his brush shoved up his ass. He don't know shit from shinola, that's the truth." Wide smile. "This was my first big project ever, Mr. Wayne. Couldn't let anybody else get their crummy paws on my work."

"The Apollo building is extraordinary. Lex here is taking me around to see them… they're truly inspiring." A moment. "I might ask you to come paint my house in the Hamptons some time, Mr. Ross. Its a house from the 1700's... all of the original frame work and stucco inside, but it needs to be modernized." A smile at him, as he gazed up at the ceiling at Zeus, with his lightening bolts. "Truly... extraordinary."

Dogwood's eyes widened. "Oh, Mr. Wayne... I'd love to get my brushes all over your house!"

A chuckle, as he lowered his head again and smiled at the man. He went into his pocket and took out a business card, scribbling his phone number for his office at home on the back. "I'll be going back home to Gotham next week... call me anytime next week, to see when in your schedule we can get you out there. It doesn't have to be right away… whenever's right for you, the offer stands."

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he whooped, and spun in the harness, which set the whole scaffolding to shaking as he spun.

Emily let out a sobbing scream and threw her paint brush at him before she even thought. "STOP MOVING RIGHT NOW! If I fall I'M TAKING YOU WITH ME!"

Dogwood swung out of the way, and the brush hit smack in the middle of Bruce's jacket, leaving a bright purple trail down the left side of his outfit.

Lex was trying really, really hard to muffle the laugh.

Bruce just....stared down at his jacket, where the purple blob was rolling down, brush splattered on his shoes. Looked, for a long moment. this suit had cost nearly four thousand dollars. Chump change, but dammit, he'd really liked it. A look up at the young girl, staring at her until she sobbed and hid back over the wooden platform keeping her up, and he sighed. Heavily. "it would be purple, wouldn't it." A little smile at Dogwood, a pat on the shoulder. "Give me a call, Mr. Ross." And he motioned to Lex, as he swept quite majestically off towards the steps.

Lex was still snickering as he followed Bruce. "I must say, purple's your color, Bruce. Better than black."

"Fuck. You." Muttered. He came up around the steps to the second floor, glancing out at all the beautiful smoked glass cubicles set up, as well as the brand new computers, phones, printers and equipment purring softly. Around receptionist desk and up the steps again, quiet feet on the lovely marble stairs. "You should consider getting some carpet on these. Someone falls, they'll crack their head open."

Lex growled. "We have carpets. Beautiful, huge, thick Persian rugs. I should know, I've dragged the motherfuckers out four times for Dominic and Dad to look at. However, we're waiting until the ceiling mural's been restored before laying them out."

Bruce got the most amusing image of Dominic riding the carpets while Lex pulled them out, and he chuckled softly to himself as he finally came up on the landing, sighing softly. He was getting out of shape, dammit. He actually had to take a breath. Ugh. "Lead the way, Lex."

"Getting soft, Bruce." He led the way down the hallway, to his father's office, and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lionel said brusquely, not looking up from his papers.

The office was... so much more beautiful than the last time he'd seen it. It had substance, color now, a texture and that rich scent of what money could bring. A glance around in open appreciation for the fine things, as he followed Lex into the warm office. "Lionel."

"Bruce." He nodded at the younger man as he came through the door. "Come in, please, have a seat. The liquor cabinet isn't completely stocked yet, but I think you can find something you'd like. Lex, have you seen this materials requisition? There's not nearly enough concrete being requested to cover the job."

Lex pointed to the chairs in front of Lionel's desk, and then came around to bend over his father's chair. "Yeah. Yeah, that's 32-4A. Don't worry. Look at 4C; they're over by about two tons, and 4A's been doing cross-team requisitions."

Bruce new, vaguely, what they were talking about, as he settled, with his purple blob, in front of the desk. He hadn't been in the game for nearly three days, and it was going to take some time to get everything settled back into his brain. As it was, he was having difficulty thinking of anything other than going home. "Everything looks marvelous, Mr. Luthor."

"Thank you, Bruce. We couldn't have done this without you." He was sorting through files, looking for the cross-requisitions that Lex had been talking about. "How is Mr. Grayson doing?"

"Better." And left it at that. "We'll be going back to Gotham on Monday. Its time for us to go home."

Lionel did look up at that. "We'll be sorry to see you go, Bruce, but I understand. You've been away from your own interest far too long already, for our sake, and we're very grateful. I have several people here in Smallville who are willing to move to Gotham with you, if you need extra assistance, to get you caught back up."

A slight shake of his head. "No need to worry, I'll have everything back under control. I left Thomas Brenton in charge, and he's a reliable person, so I know there won't be any problems when I get back." A shift. "Its not for personal interest, Mr. Luthor. Its for Dick. He needs to be home, and away from this town. Its brought him a lot of heart ache."

"I understand that, all too well. That's a majority of the reason I'm making this move myself." He pulled his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, accepting the glass of brandy he hadn't even realized Lex had poured. "Thank you, Lex."

"Indeed." He leaned forward a little. "Anything I can do here?"

Lex poured two other glasses, and held one out to Bruce and kept one for himself.

"Actually, Bruce, you've done so much for us already. Everything you've done for us has smoothed the way quite a bit, and we're grateful to you."

Lex kicked his father's chair. "Schools," he grunted.

"School proposal?" Lionel asked blankly.

A soft chuckle at Lex he couldn't help, as he took a sip of his drink. "Lex has told me you both have been having problems getting the school commission to accept a Luthor building. So… I'd like to put my money behind it."

"Oh, yes." Lionel shook his head. "Forgive me; I've got quite a few irons on the fire." A deep sigh, and a drink. "If it's Wayne Enterprises backing the referendum instead of LuthorCorp, I think it'll pass--or at least have a better chance to. We've got the supplies and everything else, sitting in a warehouse and waiting for installation."

"I know the Education board here in Kansas quite well." A knowing glance at Lex, before back to Lionel. "I'll be sure to talk to get an appointment set up with them, hopefully for tomorrow morning, and let them know what we're doing and why we're doing it. It might get the referendum through quicker, and it might let them see that what we're doing here is not just for profit." Bruce nodded and took another drink of his brandy.

"I hope so; Lex and I have both met with them and we seem to be... disbelieved." He gave a small grin. "Not that I blame them." But then he sighed. "I appreciate all of your hard work, Bruce."

"I don't mind." This time, he smiled. "It was getting boring in Gotham, anyhow."

- = - = -

Pride had its price. It was one of the most important things his mama had ever taught him, and he always took it to heart, when his, as she said, fathers bull head, got the best of him. He'd ignored the fact that Dick wasn't even a hundred feet away, inside the small trailer. He was sad, and angry, and scared to go talk to him.

But if it was something else, his mama had taught him to be strong, even when he didn't feel strong, and brave even when he was terrified. And God knew he was terrified, as he turned to look at his girlfriend. He was scared, but he wasn't a yellow dog, and he'd go make peace with his fear. "Shayla?"

Shayla was watching Pete, out of the corner of her eye as she worked, and as soon as he called her, she dropped the shovel she was digging with, and looked up at him, peeling off her gloves. "Yeah, baby?"

"I have to, you know." He peeled off his own gloves and stepped away from the men working in front of them, as he took her hand in his own. "I love you, you know." He just prayed she understood why he had to do this. He couldn't live with himself knowing that Dick had left his life without them talking, not even once. He wanted to tell him so many things, but he didn't want to estrange the most important person in his life anymore than she already was.

She squeezed his fingers hard. "I know you do." She looked up at him. "Do you want backup? Just in case... he tries anything else?"

"He won't." And he knew she didn't realize how emasculating her comment was, as he pressed her fingertips to his lips. His heart wanted to scream that he didn't need anyone… but he did. So he kept quiet, squeezing her much smaller palms gently. "I'll call you, Pink Ranger, if I need you."

She grinned a little, at that. "I used to watch that show, when I was younger. She was always my favorite, which... would probably explain my current obsession with pink, and... I'm babbling on top of that." She blinked up at him, and gave another little grin. "I'll be here if you need me."

"Will do." He pressed another kiss to her fingertips, her long, beautiful nails, kissing gently before letting her go and turning towards the trailers. Fear and anxiety. Fear and anxiety. He could do this. He was a Ross, goddammit, and all Ross's were strong, vigilant people. He could fucking do this, and not just that? He'd do it well. Besides, Dick was crippled, and Pete could knock him flat on his back need be.

The thought cheered him, just a little, as he trooped towards the trailers.

Shayla tugged her gloves on with slightly more anger and menace than the little leather coverings deserved, and her next dig with the shovel was unnecessarily harsh.

Dick was typing away at the keyboard. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't feeling, he was just keying in numbers and information as fast as he could, so he didn't have to think or feel. Just keeping busy, and his fingers danced across the keyboard and keypad as the pencil stayed clenched in his teeth.

And Pete figured that's why he hadn't heard the first knock. Or the second, and third knocks. After that he had carefully opened the door, and stepped in, pulling his hard hat from his head and setting his gloves in it. He mopped his forehead with his sleeve and quietly walked into the main room, glancing around. Silence. ...No. Tapping. Clicking. He turned the corner mid way through the room, and saw him.

Sharp, blinding fear, that turned his legs to jelly and his belly to water. He strangled it and straightened, and knocked softly on the paneling of the wall.

"Hey, Lex. I'm almost--" ::snap:: Dick spat out the pieces of the pencil that had snapped between his teeth. "Done. Pete... what do you want?"

The question was darkly rude and quick, and Pete swallowed, hard. Christ. What the fuck did he want? "Just... just to see you." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, if I'm bothering you."

"You're not." Actually you are. "Come in, if you want."

"That's alright. I just wanted..." What? What did you want, Pete? "To say hello."

Dick sighed, and threw away the broken pencil halves, wiping the lead out of his mouth. "You've said it."

"Yeah." But he didn't make any move to leave, just watching him as the awkward silence stretched.

Dick was getting itchy as Pete stared at him, and he bent down to the floor, picking up his crutches and starting to walk back towards the kitchen. "If you want coffee, you have to get it yourself; I'm a little incapable of carrying anything at the moment."

"No, I don't." He said quietly, as he watched Dick hobble towards the kitchen. "Do… do you need any help?"

"No," he answered shortly. Not from anybody but Bruce. "I think I can handle making my own coffee." Go away, Pete.

"I'm obviously bothering you. I'll… see you whenever." He turned abruptly with pain beating like knives in his heart, boots thudding quietly against the hollow ground as he walked towards the front door.

"Pete... you're not. Okay? I just... don't know what you want out of me." The thump of his crutches echoed in the quiet trailer as he made it into the kitchen and made himself a cup of black coffee.

"Hello. Maybe a how are you. What you been up to. That sort of thing."

Dick... just blinked. "You're joking."

"No." He turned to face the young guy. "I'm not. Do I look like I'm joking?"

Dick looked at Pete--really looked at him--for the first time since the kid had walked in. "No, actually, you don't."

The eyes on him made his head come up a little more, looking at him in the eye. "How are you?"

"Just dandy. Thumping around like a three-legged man, tryin' not to think, tryin' not to feel anythin'. How about you?"

"Same. Except for the three-legged thing."

"So how are you and the little woman doing?"

"We've been better. Yourself and Bruce?"

"We're good. Going to be leaving on Monday, get back to Gotham."

"Mmm." If his heart trembled, he didn't show it, and he went and fixed himself a cup of coffee. He stunk but a coffee break wouldn't hurt, and he poured the black crap into a small paper cup, watching intently as he did so. "You must be happy to be going home."

"Like you wouldn't believe. Cannot wait to get out of this town. Bruce went and packed up the rest of my shit outta the--outta the apartment yesterday, and everything else is yours in there if you want it, and if you don't, hock it for the blow."

"For what its worth? I'm sorry." He said it quietly, as he poured a little bit of milk into the cup as well, sipping it softly before he turned to face him. "You should sit down, your leg must hurt."

"I've had worse." Dick hitched his hip on the counter instead, taking the weight off his broken leg but feeling the insistent need to keep mobile.

"I bet you have. Working with Bruce the way you do. You've probably got a lot of stories."

He was startled for a minute until he remembered that Pete knew everything. "Yeah, I got a few. None I can tell, though."

"I know." He was quiet, for a beat. "You're not going to see me anymore after you leave, are you?"

"I can't exactly see it, no," Dick admitted. "Can't exactly figure on you wanting to see me, either."

"You weren't yourself." Softly said, a shake of his head as he gently stirred his coffee with a straw, not looking at the guy sitting right across from him. "I don't blame you."

"Why not?" Dick said bitterly. "I blame myself. I... I have a certain set of circumstances that should allow me to keep myself better under control than that, and there is no excuse for what happened, Pete. None."

"Yes, there is. You… your arms, were moving." A moment. "Are you better now?"

"Yeah. I'm better now. Don't know what all happened, but Bruce filled me in; they ended up removing three, four gallons of those things out of me. Knocked me out for the better part of a day and a half, sliced my back open and sucked them out."

He closed his eyes a moment, setting the coffee to the side. "I didn't mean to make you cheat on Bruce. I'm so sorry."

Dick laughed at that, harshly and bitterly. "You weren't the one holdin' me down, Petey. If I remember correctly, I was the one holdin' you down, and yes, let's please rehash that as much as possible."

There was going to be no talking to him. But he'd try, anyway. Because he was a Ross. "I'm not angry at you. If that's what you're looking for. I'm not angry at you, at all. You were sick, Dick. What happened just... happened. I'm not angry at you, or what went on. I'm angry that I hurt the people I love, but I'm not angry at you." He looked up at him. "I'd never be angry at you. You were the first person I loved. I still do love. It was out of your control." A shrug, absently. "I'm not rehashing it. I'm telling you what is."

"Well, I'm glad you're not angry. I'm angry enough for the both of us. I'm angry that I wasn't good enough to keep control of myself. I'm angry that I nearly hurt Bruce. I'm angry that I did hurt you, and I'm angry that nobody else seems to see how that was a bad thing. I'm angry at myself because I LOST CONTROL, dammit! That can't happen to me. That can't happen to Robin. And if I can't control a little thing like this, what the fuck is going to happen to me when I get out on the streets with Bruce and I can't watch his back?"

"You didn't lose control, Dick." Pete gazed up at him at the loud outburst. "You weren't even yourself. You acted... acted so strange, really wack. I mean, you fucked me. The person you can barely stand. You weren't even yourself, Dick. Yeah, what you did sucks, but it'd be like me telling Clark that him flipping out cause he lost his kid is his fault. Its not. And this ain't either." Another moments pause, as he thought. "I think you'll learn. With Bruce. You got the attitude, you just need the experience. Bruce'll teach you, Dick. We aren't born knowing. You gotta just… roll with the punches and learn as you go."

"Yeah, well, it's a little bit different when rolling with the punches can get somebody you love killed."

"So, you're telling me you'd rather mope at home and wonder if the love of your life is getting killed, rather than be out there, helping him?"

"Or, I can go with him and get him killed. Look, you know, Pete... not that I don't appreciate this little attempt to raise my spirits, but... yeah. It's not working."

Dick was being so fucking rude to him, but he didn't say anything, just rubbing the tape on his hand softly. "I can see. I'm really sorry this is kind of it."

"Why should you be? I've done nothing but cause you a shitload of problems ever since Bruce got back into town, and I can't figure out why you'd be sorry to see all that trouble just trot on outta town."

"Because I still love you. Because even though you're a mean bastard sometimes, I still want to be your friend." Seeing Dick leave was sending panicking little beats through his heart. "Because I don't know what happened, or why you wanted me."

"I'm not a mean bastard, Pete. I'm just a bastard period. Lionel Luthor's not the only one with a monopoly on that." He picked up his crutches, put down the coffee he'd never touched, and started limping his way back towards the computer. "You want to know what happened? I came here, I fucked Bruce until he couldn't move, and when that wasn't enough, I went looking for more. I just happened to run into you, because if it hadn't been you, it'd been whomever was there, and you better thank Shayla, because I would have killed you, Pete. I wouldn't have meant to, but I know that's what those things would have made me do."

"I don't believe you." Pete said it quietly, as he followed. "I think you came looking for me. I don't think you would have done whatever." Don't make me that cheap. "I think you came looking for me, because you knew Id say yes."

"And what if I did?" Dick asked, thumping closer. "What if that's true, and I came to you and raped you because I knew you wouldn't stop me, that you'd let me do anything that I wanted to to you. Is that supposed to make me feel better, that you let me take advantage of you? Is that supposed to make me feel better, that you let me do that? Because it doesn't, okay? It just... makes... it worse."

"You didn't… didn't rape me. Not at first, and you know it like I do. Its not supposed to make you feel better, and you didn't take advantage of me. I kissed you, I asked you to touch me. No one takes advantage of me, unless I want that person in return. Okay? I cheated on Shayla because I wanted you, Dick. So don't beat yourself up over it, because its not your fault. We're sharing this one, fifty-fifty."

Dick growled at that. "I was in my skin, Pete. I know exactly what I did, every last crummy fucking thing. I remember just fucking you harder and harder when you started yelling no, all right? Don't you dare--" And he was so close to losing his temper. "Don't you dare patronize me and tell me what I did or didn't do!"

"I'm n..." His throat bobbed, hard, as he stared at the very... very angry young man in front of him. He knew when his lover had been angry, and nothing had changed now, as he looked at him. "I don't mean to. I'm sorry." Dick was going to leave and never see him again, and oh, God, his heart fluttered. "I don't want to lose you. You're my friend... the only one I had for a long time. Even though you're not Sam... I want to get to know who you really are. I don't want you to leave and forget about this, and forget about me."

"And what if this is who I am, Pete? Huh? What if this person, right here, is who I am? You really want to get to know this? Get to know me? Let me tell you about me, Pete. I run away from my problems, rather than deal with them. I hurt the people I care about the most. I act like a child, and I know it. I hold onto my anger and hold onto grudges rather than let them go and forgive."

"I don't believe you. I couldn't have ever loved someone like that. Maybe I didn't know everything about you, but I knew you. I knew who you were, and you weren't a horrible person. I couldn't have even associated with someone like that." Don't cry. Don't cry. DON'T. Cry. "I'm sorry I've been so bad to you, when you needed someone to be your friend. I act like a child too, you know." His throat bobbed, as he took a step closer. "I want to know you, no matter what."

"Don't come near me." Dick swung a step backwards on his crutches, and nearly tipped over.

His chin trembled. Hard. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Just... don't." He backed up against the counter again.

"Are you disgusted or something?" He asked it with the honesty in his heart, tipping his head.

"No. I just... don't want anybody near me." Hard swallow. "Not even Bruce. But I can't tell him that."

"I don't think I was the one raped here, Dick." Was all he said, softly, as he picked his hat and gloves again. "Be careful on your trip." He was losing him and there was nothing he could do, as he set his head on his head quietly.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dick demanded.

"You hurt me." Back up, to look at him. "God only knows how much you did. But its just pain. It'll go away. But you, you hurt because you hurt another human being when under the influence. The one thing you never thought you'd do, you did. And that's a rape of the soul, a weakness you couldn't fight, no matter how hard you tried." A soft nod. "God knows that, too. But what you don't know is that sometimes our souls are weak, an sometimes we do things we don't want done to us. Its hard, and it hurts, and its the worst thing imaginable. But you can't let it rule your life." A pause. "Don't fuck up. You have someone who thinks you're the rising moon and the setting sun. Don't lose him, because you're too lost in yourself."

Dick simply didn't have a response to those words of truth and wisdom coming out of the mouth of this young boy. "Pete..."

A shrug, absently at him. "Its the way of life, Dick. You can take it, or you don't have to. I did what I came here to do, and that was to tell you that even though you hurt me, and you did that unimaginable thing, I still have love in my heart for you. You're the one person in this world, besides Shayla, who ever gave a damn over me, the inside me. And I get if you don't want to see me again." Another hard nod, his throat working. "Feel free to shut me up anytime."

"No. Don't shut up. You're... actually making more sense than I am." He leaned against his crutches, letting them take the brunt of his weight and ignored the agony radiating up from his leg. "I do still care about you. You... you're always going to be a part of me that I'll never forget. But I have to go back with Bruce. I have to get my life and my crap in order before I see you again, because I can't keep being torn up like this."

"I just don't want you to forget about me." He said it before he could stop himself, and looked down immediately, tugging his hat off again. "You need to get your life and yourself back on track. But I don't want you to forget about me, or put me off, just because of this."

"I'm not going to forget about you, Pete." Dick finally gave in, hobbled over to one of the chairs in the kitchen, and thudded down into it. It wobbled under his weight, but it didn't break. "I don't think it's possible for me to forget about you. You were... you were too much a part of my life, and meant way, way too much to me for me to forget you. Ever."

"Don't say that." His throat bobbed, hard. "Because then its too much like goodbye. Okay? So don't be all, 'I'll never forget you', because that's...no." A hard shake of his head.

"Come here," Dick said quietly.

He took another step closer… then another, before stopping in front of him, a foot or two away, fighting to keep his face blank and free of emotion and failing. Miserably.

Dick pushed up from the chair and leaned on one of his crutches to take him the last step. He hugged Pete, hard and tight before letting him go and sitting back down. His own face was a conflicted mask as he looked up. "Thank you."

Yeah right. Like that's all he could do. He thumped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Dick's waist, pressing close and hugging him as hard as he dared, which wasn't much, before carefully letting go. "You don't ever have to thank m.." Cleared throat. "Thank me."

Dick kept his arms around Pete's shoulders. "I know. But I do anyway." His chin rested on top of Pete's head. "I'm going to miss you, Pete. But I'll be back."

"Take care of your shit." he said softly, clearing his throat again as he closed his eyes and looked down. "I'll always love you. As much as I said I wouldn't, and that Sam was gone... he's not. He's you. Bruce is so lucky to have you."

"I'll take care of it." He squeezed again, and dropped his cheek to rest on Pete's hair instead of his chin. "Shayla's lucky to have you too, Pete. And if she doesn't know it, she's a fool."

"She knows it." A hard nod, as he brought a hand up to touch the arm around his shoulder, and keep it there. "She forgave me. We're working things out... fixing things. She's a good person, such a good person. She inspires me to be good, too."

"You don't need no inspiration, Pete. You are a good man."

A shake of his head. "Not usually." A moment, though, and he sniffled a little. Manly type, you know. Not to hide anything else. "Do you need anything? Suitcase, box of beer?"

"Nah." He let go of Pete at the sniffle. "I got everything I need."

"Alright. You do, don't hesitate to call." a nod, and he rose to his feet. "I gotta....they need me outside."

"I know. I'll see you. Tell you what... come by Sunday. I'll get the case, and... you bring pizza. We'll hang out before I go."

"Yeah?"

Dick nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay. I will. I'll see you around, Dick." Pete put his hat back on, rubbing his face a little as he turned towards the door, he stopped a moment, before opening it again. "Thanks, Dick."

"You're welcome, Pete. And... thank you." He got back up on his crutches, and hobbled after Pete, as far as the computer. "Thanks. For everything."

Pete nodded softly and stepped out of the trailer, and back down the steps. The rain continued, very lightly, and he rubbed the hard hat down a little bit as he trooped through the mud over to where Shay was crouched low. Her pink hair peaked out from under her hard hat, and as he crouched beside her, he ran his fingers gently through the locks. "Hey."

"Pete!!" Shayla jumped up to her feet, nearly cracking her hard hat into Pete's face. "Are you okay, baby?" She almost ran her hands over him to check, but the memory of what had just happened to Pete and Chloe yesterday was too fresh in her mind for her to do it. "Did he hurt you again?"

"Yep. Still got the teeth marks to prove it." Though he offered a little smile at her, and shook his head, as he helped her with the pipe she'd been digging up. "We talked."

She bristled at the teeth marks until she realized he was joking and she relaxed. "Not funny," she muttered, heaving up the pipe with Pete's help. "Did it help?"

"Sorry, Shay." he said quietly, as he put his weight behind loosening the one section on the left. "It helped. He doesn't hate me, I don't hate him. He's leaving on Monday, but he promise not to… you know. Forget I exist."

"S'okay." She kept heaving. "and it's okay you don't hate him, cause I hate him enough for both of us with some to spare." Sweet smile. "Nobody could forget you, Pete."

"He's hurt worse than me, Shay." Pete heaved at the same time, and sent them both sprawling back in the mud on their asses.

Shayla let out another round of curses, half of them in Gaelic and all of them at the top of her lungs as she picked herself up out of the mud. "I sincerely doubt that," she growled. "Probably trying for people's sympathy so you don't kick his ass."

"No." He was strangely quiet as he roused himself from the mud, wiping off what he could and leaving what he couldn't, as his now soggy underwear clung to his skin when he bent for the rest of the bar. "No, Shay."

She looked at him oddly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. I feel... feel bad. For him. Very bad, and I wish I could help him." He wrenched once more and the pip came loose, as he almost plopped back into the mud again. Caught himself with a foot, balancing as he wrenched it free, to be replaced. "Its a secondary sewer line, baby. Keep back, I don't want you to get too dirty."

She rolled her eyes at that, and got right in beside him. "I'm washable, the clothes are washable... come on. Let me help you, stud." Shayla got in there, helping him pull the line out and toss it to the side. "Don't you dare feel bad for him, Pete."

"I do. He couldn't control himself... he looks so unhealthy, so sad." A glance up at her, though he promptly looked away and got on his knees as he pushed the new pipe into place, grunting with the effort and then leaning a knee on what he'd just replaced, screwing it on tightly until it could be welded by one of the men.

"I'll go kick his ass, how's that? Then he won't be sad anymore." She was upbeat and perky about the prospect. "Please?"

He kept his temper. By a check, as he looked at her. "Stop. Please, Shay."

"Okay." She sobered, instantly. "Honestly... I don't care about him, as long as you're okay." She slipped a dirty, work-gloved hand into his. "And you are okay?"

"Will be." And he would. "Had to work some stuff out. We talked... things are better." He nodded softly, as he kept his weight on the pipe. "You know, I love you."

"Yeah, I know." She rubbed her shoulder against his. "And I love you too."

"Will you and I get back to what we were?"

She nodded. "Yeah. We will. We'll be better, too."

A hard swallow, as he looked down at the pipe. "No. I mean… will we be the people we were together? Will you love me, and stop looking at me with guarded eyes? Will you forgive me?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I will forgive you. I've already forgiven you, Pete. And I'll keep telling you that until you believe it." She rubbed a slightly smudged cheek against his. "I've always loved you."

A short, small nod as he rubbed his stubbly cheek against hers before he passed the pipe off to someone else, and rose with her, offering his hand. "Come get a donut with me?"

"Okay." She smiled and took his hand again, using the other to balance herself as she crawled out of the little hole they'd dug around the pipe and came to stand beside him. She made sure to link their fingers together tightly, even through the gloves. "But only if they're chocolate."

 

-fin-

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