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The Ocean Wept (Sequel to	By : Dhvana Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 2785 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Title: The Ocean Wept (1/6)
Part 2 of “Siren’s Song”
Pairing: Batman (Bruce)/Nightwing (Dick), Connor (Green Arrow II)/OMC, Tim (Robin)/OFC
DISCLAIMER: With the exception of my original characters, those appearing in this story are not mine, no harm intended, no profit made.

All of my stories can be found under the files section of my group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Dimensions_of_Dhvana/

Siren’s Song: The Ocean Wept
Chapter 1

“For the last time, no! No no no no no! How many times am I going to have to repeat myself before you’ll listen to me?”

“You just said that was the last time.”

Dick glared at him and continued his rampage through the Manor. “Damnit, Bruce, I thought we were through this. I thought you understood! I didn’t realize we were going to end up running into the same damn wall over and over and over again!”

“So what does this mean? Do you want to call it quits?”

Dick sighed and glanced over his shoulder at the man who was still following him. “I didn’t say that. All I’m trying to say is that I hate having this same argument. It’s the one we had three years ago, it’s the one we had a year ago, and it’s the same one we’re having now. Aren’t you tired of it?”

“Yes. But I’m hoping you’ll give in and let me have my way.”

Rolling his eyes, Dick walked into the parlor where Alfred was sitting at the desk and Tim was lying on the floor doing homework. “Not gonna happen. Bludhaven needs me--you know it does, and in my own twisted fashion, I need the ‘haven. I’m not leaving.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to leave, exactly. I’d just feel better—”

“If I’d let you control my life like I used to?” Dick asked, eyebrow arched over dangerously glittering eyes, and Bruce knew he was treading in shark-infested waters.

“No, of course not. I’d just feel better if we could work out some sort of compromise.”

“And we could,” the younger man muttered as he flopped down on the sofa, “if you had a single flexible bone in that body of yours.”

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” Bruce asked, trying to keep the smile from his face as he sat down in the chair across from his lover.

“Does it look like I’m trying to compliment you?” he retorted, not an ounce of humor in his expression, and Bruce sighed, wishing they could just end the argument already and move on to the make-up sex.

“Uncie Alfie,” Tim asked in the high-pitched imitation of a child’s voice as he looked up at the older gentleman with mock-Bambi eyes, “why are my daddies always fighting?”

“Because they’re both too stubborn to find any common ground,” Alfred replied without looking up from the laptop.

“But. . . what’s gonna happen to me if they can’t get along?”

“You’ll be abandoned to a life of scrounging on the streets because they’ll both be too absorbed in their own self-pity to care for you. Or you can just live with your father.”

Tim’s lower lip trembled as it protruded in an extreme pout. “But I like having three daddies!”

“If you can convince them to remove their heads from their backsides long enough to realize how much they care for you and each other, perhaps you can avoid a future as a streetrat, and then you can all go out for ice cream.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Bruce snarled in between Dick and Tim’s laughter. “You,” he growled, pointing a finger at Tim, “aren’t funny. You,” he turned the finger towards Alfred, “stop encouraging him. And you—” Meeting Dick’s eyes, he realized he would have to drop the commanding tone, or risk digging himself even deeper. “I think we should discuss this somewhere without an audience.”

“Agreed. But not now.”

“Why not?” Bruce asked, refusing to look away from Dick even when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Tim said, jumping to his feet and running out of the room. “It’s for me, anyway. Tell Connor and Will I said hi and that I’ll be calling Will later for lessons.”

“Will do,” Dick said, then continued to answer Bruce’s question as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “I have to go pick up the happy couple from the hospital. Will gets out today, but can’t drive for another month, and unless he wants to risk ending up back in the hospital by letting Connor drive, I’m playing chauffeur. And don’t you want to know who Tim’s expecting?”

“A study partner,” Alfred answered. “Apparently, the young woman recently arrived at the school to discover she was behind in her science lessons and was in need of tutoring. Being the selfless soul he is, Tim offered to help.”

“She must be hot,” Dick said with a chuckle, and Bruce shot him a questioning look.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, first, because he offered to help. When does he have time to be a tutor? Second, if she wasn’t anyone special, he’d have found someplace more neutral to study, but to invite her to Wayne Manor for a tutoring session--he clearly wants to impress her.”

Bruce’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure I like the idea of my home being a means for Tim to pick up girls.”

“Look at it this way,” Dick said as he stood up, “if there’s any chemistry between them that’s not of a scholastic nature, they’ve got both you and Alfred keeping an eye on them while there here. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble they could get into?”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Bruce asked as Dick leaned over to kiss him good-bye.

“No. It was just supposed to keep you from kicking them out. I’ll see you later, and if you’re in the mood, we can finish our discussion then. I’m hoping you won’t be in the mood,” he winked then sent a smile in the direction of his closest friend. “Bye Alfred!”

“Have a good evening, Master Dick. Make sure Master Connor knows what he’s doing before you leave him alone with Mr. Wyatt. And give them the number here, just in case.”

“Yes, sir. Anything to keep you from worrying.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help it. I happen to know from experience how difficult it is for young men who’ve been injured to sit still and let their bodies heal.”

“Why Alfred,” Dick asked, eyes wide with innocence, “is there something you’re trying to say?”

“Not at all, Master Dick. I’m sure you know quite well what it is I’m implying.”

“We love you too,” he grinned and let Bruce pull him down for one last kiss before heading out the door.

Once Dick was gone, Bruce continued to sit in the parlor, brooding in silence. As always, his thoughts wandered over his repeating argument with Dick. It wasn’t that he was trying to control his lover’s life, but he did wish he had a little more impact on Dick’s decisions. Was he really so horrible for wanting to make sure Dick was safe? He couldn’t deny that during the time when they’d been barely maintaining a civil relationship, he’d never directly interfered with Nightwing’s activities. He’d let Dick do what he wanted and all disapproving or restrictive comments remained tucked inside his head.

But that was before.

Now that they were giving their relationship another try, now that Dick was to become a permanent feature in his life, his home, his bed, he wanted to make sure Dick would always be a permanent feature. He was so reckless sometimes, so independent, so—

“So much like you?”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Alfred. “Reading my thoughts again?”

“They weren’t difficult to interpret,” he shrugged, and the younger man sighed.

“I don’t know what to do, Alfred. How can I make him understand that I’m not trying to hurt him? That I’m just. . .” He trailed off, staring into the cold and empty fireplace.

That I’m just afraid, he finished silently to himself, but Alfred understood.

“I know this isn’t easy after so many years together with only a friendship and a partnership between you, but you’re going to have to learn to adjust your view of him. He’s no longer the orphan child you took into your home, the one you have to care for and protect. He’s now the man you want to share your life with.”

Seeing Bruce’s mouth open, he shook his head.

“I won’t deny that the need to care for and protect him is still there, but you’re going to have to do so outside of his decisions. You have to trust that if there is something serious going on--whether as Dick or as Nightwing--he will come to you. Beyond that, just remember this is someone you have personally trained, as well as someone who’s learned more than a few tricks of his own since he’s moved out from under your wing. In essence, he’s someone who can take care of himself.”

“I know, Alfred. It’s just hard to find a way to make what my mind knows coexist with what my heart feels.”

“Then if you value your relationship, I’d start searching for that way a little more diligently,” Alfred said, closing the laptop and rising to his feet. “Master Dick loves you and wants a life with you. He has resigned himself to being patient and is waiting for you to come around. It isn’t fair to him that he should have to wait.”

“No, it isn’t,” Bruce said, shaking his head. “I’ll work on it.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think the students might be in need of some refreshment.”

“Checking up on them?” he grinned.

“Just making sure they have the energy they need to devote themselves to their studies,” Alfred smiled as he left the room, “while reassuring myself that they won’t accidentally burn the house down.”

Tim couldn’t stop staring at her. He knew he was behaving like an absolute freak, but she was just so. . . he didn’t know what she was. Different, maybe? As if the blue hair hadn’t made that obvious enough already. Considering the strict dress code policy of his school, that she was able to walk around with her hair dyed an electric blue was a miracle in and of itself.

The fact that she looked so good doing it--well, that just had to be all her.

And the way her hair matched her eyes so perfectly. . . Those had to be contacts. No one had eyes THAT blue. But he didn’t care. Only she could get away with wearing contacts such an unnatural color of blue.

Blue, green, purple, orange stripes--she could have been a combination of any of these colors, and would it matter? Not to him. So she was different, so unique in a school filled with future Ivy League clones. Maybe that was her appeal, because wasn’t he also a bit different from everyone else?

He just felt that, because they were different, they connected on so many levels, but they contrasted each other, too. Like, how she was good at English and social studies and languages, while he was good at science and math and computers. She was quiet where he was constantly trying to fill the air with chatter. She had this smile that could completely knock him off his feet, while he. . . he actually didn’t know if she even liked him beyond anything as a tutor, but if it meant being anywhere near her, he was willing to live with that.

“Tim, are you there?”

He blinked to see her unnaturally blue eyes watching him with concern.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, quickly facing the table and hoping she wouldn’t notice the red creeping up his face. “Just got a little lost in my thoughts.”

“Then I’m glad I was able to help you find your way out again,” she said, her words accompanied by one of her magnificent smiles, and he was lost again.

“Ahem.”

Tim nearly jumped a foot as he turned in his chair to face the figure in the doorway. “Alfred!”

“Good afternoon, Master Tim. I thought you and the young lady might care for some refreshments.”

“Yeah, thanks!” he said, pushing aside some papers to make room for the tray carrying cookies and apples, bottles of water and cans of soda. “Alfred, this is Lorelei Lamar. She just moved here to Gotham from. . .”

Tim paused, frowning as he glanced at Lorelei, who flashed one of her smiles at Alfred as she stood up, holding out her hand.

“Everywhere,” she said with the lightest of laughs. “My family moves around a lot.”

“It’s a pleasure to have you here,” Alfred said, clearly charmed by the young woman, despite her blue hair. “I do hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

She glanced at Tim and grinned. “I already am.”

Flushing with pleasure, Tim caught Alfred’s eye and nodded towards the door. The perceptive butler graciously took the hint.

“Then I shall leave you to your studies. If you need anything, just call.”

“Thanks, Alfred. We will.”

“He’s sweet,” Lorelei said after he’d gone, sitting back down and grabbing a bottle of water.

“He’s the best,” Tim agreed, opening a can of soda and reaching for a cookie, completely ignoring the healthier alternatives. When Lorelei arched an eyebrow at him, he grinned. “I know he meant well with the apples and everything, but he also makes the most amazing chocolate chip cookies. If he’d really wanted me to avoid cavities, then he wouldn’t have brought the junk food.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she chuckled. “Now, about this project, there’s just so much I don’t understand. But there’s something you said earlier. . . hold on, let me see if I can find it in my notes.”

Humming absently, she flipped through the pages of handwritten notes she’d collected, then triumphantly removed the page she was searching for. Glancing up, she found Tim staring at her with more concentration than was necessary, and she looked away, suddenly seeming self-conscious as her humming came to an abrupt stop.

“Don’t you hate it when you get this song stuck in your head and even though you have no idea what it is, you can’t get rid of it?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding absently. “I hate that.”

Turning back to their homework, he frowned as he looked at the book in front of him. Everything that had been so clear a minute ago was now a little fuzzy. He shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and tried to focus. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself in front of Lorelei.

But somehow, he didn’t think he had a choice.

“Will, how come we always ended up at my place?” Dick asked, dropping the suitcase he was carrying next to the door as he looked around at his former lover’s spacious loft. The apartment was practically made of windows, with light streaming in at every angle. The furniture was elegant, but comfortable, the home entertainment center the latest technology, and above all, it was clean. Spotless, even. Alfred would have swooned.

“Because you were away on the job so much that if I didn’t stay there, I never saw you. And, though I didn’t know it then, because all of your Nightwing gear is there.”

“Oh. Right. Well next time, I’m moving in here and saving us the trouble.”

“Next time?” Connor asked, arching an eyebrow as he helped his boyfriend to the sofa.

Dick grinned at him. “You never know.”

“Dick, stop teasing Connor,” Will scolded, trying to find a way to sit that wouldn’t hurt his stitches. “Even if we did break up, I don’t think I’d take you back.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too high maintenance. I never got enough ‘me’ time,” he said in his whiniest voice. “It was always just you you you you you.”

“If you weren’t already in pain,” Dick said in a mock-growl, “I’d hurt you.”

“I don’t even know why we’re still having this conversation,” Connor said, eyes narrowed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if you tried,” Will smiled, reaching up to grab his hand, “I wouldn’t let you.”

“Blech,” Dick grimaced. “Can you two be any cuter?”

“I don’t know, sweetcheeks,” Connor cooed as he slid an arm around Will’s shoulders, “what do you think? Can be we any cuter?”

“Oh, cuddlebum, I think we can be a lot cuter.”

“That’s it,” Dick said, jumping to his feet. “If you break up, I’m not taking in either one of you.”

“Of course you’re not,” Will said, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What would Bruce say if you decided to bring home a fucktoy?”

“Knowing Bruce, I don’t think he’d be too pleased about that,” Connor grinned, and Dick glared at them both.

“Let me add that not only am I not taking you in, but I am definitely not speaking to either one of you ever again.”

“You don’t have to talk,” Connor said. “Just run along into the kitchen and make dinner.”

“Why?” Dick exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “Why did I come here? Was it my destiny to be a personal slave to two selfish men?”

“Yes,” they answered simultaneously, and Dick shook his head and sighed.

“I’ll never understand why I put up with this abuse.”

“Because you love us,” Will answered.

“And because we love you,” Connor added.

“Damn,” Dick frowned. “I knew there was a good reason. All right, I’ll cook for you, but just this once.”

“I’ll help,” Connor said, looking down at his boyfriend. “You stay here and rest.”

Will looked for a moment as if he were about to protest, then nodded. “Actually, that sounds like a good idea. I’ll be right here, if you need anything.”

Connor hesitated for a moment before leaning over to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. “And don’t you forget to call if you need anything.”

Will gave him a weary smile and nodded as Connor and Dick disappeared into the kitchen. Connor grabbed the fresh vegetables from the fridge he’d bought earlier in the day while Dick started the water for the pasta. He couldn’t help but notice that Connor was unusually quiet. As the other man was busy cleaning vegetables, he moved to stand next to him, bumping their hips together.

“So. . .”

Connor frowned at him. “What?”

“How are you?”

“Good.”

“And Will?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s going to have to be careful for the rest of his life, keep active, remember to get vaccinations every year. I didn’t realize how important the spleen was. He’s so much more susceptible to infections now, viruses, disease. He’s so. . . vulnerable.”

“But he’s got a big strong hero around to protect him. Two, in fact, until you manage to chase me off.”

“I can only protect him from so much,” Connor said, staring at the cucumber in his hand as if he’d never seen it before in his life and wasn’t quite sure how he ended up holding it. “And I don’t know. . .”

“Don’t know what?” Dick asked, dumping a jar of marinara sauce into a bowl.

“Don’t know if I’ll be around,” he finished in a tiny voice.

“What?!” Dick did a quick juggling act, splattering marina all over the kitchen as he tried to keep hold of the jar. “Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” Will called, and they both yelled back, “Nothing!” while quickly mopping up the spilled marinara from the top of the counter, the cabinet doors, the floor.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dick hissed, and Connor shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Connor, come on. I’m your friend. You can talk to me about anything.”

“How are you and Bruce doing?” he asked, trying to deflect the conversation away from himself, but Dick was having none of it.

“If there’s something wrong with Will. . .”

“There’s nothing wrong with Will,” Connor said quickly, throwing the sauce-soaked paper towels in the trash. He picked up the cucumber again and started scrubbing the green skin, attacking it as if he were trying to rub off the green. Arching an eyebrow, Dick laid a hand over his, then lifted up the cucumber.

“Does it have something to do with this?”

Connor stared at him, perplexed, but at catching the look in Dick’s eyes, he gasped and dropped the cucumber.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Dick chuckled, setting the vegetable aside. “Connor, I know you were raised in a monastery, and you don’t have to answer, but how much experience. . . ?”

Dick watched in amusement as his friend’s complexion turned a deep, dark red.

“Not a lot, eh?”

Connor sighed, finding himself answering before he could stop. “I’ve never even kissed anyone until Will. I mean, people have kissed me, but I’ve never initiated the kiss until him.”

“Then I’ll take a giant leap in assuming that you’ve never initiated sex, or had sex initiated on you.”

Connor turned to the stove, dumping the pasta into the boiling water. “Do we really have to talk about this right now?”

“Well, no, not if you don’t want to. But. . . have you talked to Will about this?”

“We had a lot of time to talk while he was in the hospital.”

“And?”

“And. . . the topic did come up.” Realizing what he said, his green eyes widened. “I mean—”

“It’s all right,” Dick laughed. “I know what you meant, and I know Will well enough to know that he’s not going to hold your virginity against you, so what’s the problem? Are you just nervous?”

“Nervous?” he repeated with a jittery laugh. “Dick, I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to think. What if I mess things up? What if I hurt him? What if he ends up hating me?”

Smiling, Dick turned his friend around and took him in his arms, soothingly rubbing his back. “Connor, you’re being ridiculous. He will not hate you. You will not hurt him. As for messing things up, quite frankly, if it isn’t messy, you’re just not doing it right and while that may not be reassuring, I can guarantee you that Will knows exactly what he’s doing, so listen to him, and you’ll do just fine.”

Connor gave him a horrified look, clearly wanting Dick to stop right there, but Dick kept on going.

“You’re going to have to talk to him. Tell him what you like. Tell him what you don’t like. Ask him to show you what he likes and doesn’t like--or if you want to surprise him,” he grinned, “ask me and I’ll be sure to tell you in lurid detail.”

Connor growled, pushing him away, and Dick let his eyes grow serious for a moment.

“It may take a couple of tries to get it right, or at least, to get used to the idea, but believe me, once you two get going. . . it’ll be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.”

“Are you talking about sex in general, or sex with Will?”

Dick knew he should have stopped at the look in Connor’s eyes, but he couldn’t resist teasing his friend. “Well, I was talking about sex in general, but since you bring it up, sex with Will—”

“Dick. . .” Connor growled.

“I have to say, I’ve had a partner or two in my time, but with Will—”

“I’m warning you. . .”

“There’s just something about him—”

“I’m going to skewer you with an arrow.”

“Not to mention, there’s this thing he does with his tongue—”

“Dick, how many times do I have to tell you to stop teasing Connor?” Will said from the doorway, his boyfriend rushing to his side.

“What are you doing up?” Connor asked, his voice filled with concern, but he was yelling at Will with his eyes for being so careless.

“I was thirsty.”

“Then call me, and I’ll bring you something to drink.”

“I’m not an invalid, Connor. Besides, you sounded like you having so much fun in here talking dirty to each other, I got tired of being left out.”

With an exasperated sigh, Connor shook his head. “I’ll never understand why you two couldn’t make it last. You’re a perfect fit.”

“The fun was there,” Will nodded, “and the affection, but we lacked depth.”

Dick snorted. “Speak for yourself. I had depth.”

“I’m not talking about how deep inside me you could—” Will found himself cut off as a hand slapped over his mouth.

“You can stop right there,” Connor said, gently--but firmly--guiding him back to the living room. “Why don’t we just let Dick finish cooking dinner and I’ll keep you company so you won’t feel the need to wander anymore.”

“But I’m still thirsty.”

Connor paused, reaching back in time to catch the bottle of water Dick threw at him, then handed it to Will. “There, now you have your water. And I’d suggest you drink fast, because I have other intentions for your mouth.”

“Really?” Will grinned, arching an eyebrow as he quickly twisted off the lid and raised the bottle to his lips. He arched his head back and finished off the entire twenty-four ounces without once stopping for breath. Connor just gaped at him as Dick burst out laughing.

“There’s another one of his talents I forgot to mention,” Dick grinned, then yelped and ducked as an empty plastic bottle flew past his head.

“Recycle that for me, would you?” Connor said, removing both himself and Will from Dick’s sight.

Chuckling, Dick picked up the bottle off the floor and dropped it in the recycling box. Connor may have had his doubts, but he had a feeling that the two of them were going to be just fine.

Too bad he couldn’t say the same about his relationship with Bruce, but that was another worry for another time. Right now, he just wanted to focus on an evening with his friends, both of whom clearly needed him if they were ever going to find their way between the sheets.

[April 15, 2004]
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The Ocean Wept (Sequel to