Rating: G
Classification: Character Death
Summary:  Love, life and loss plagues our favorite "Family."

*** 

Dancing in the Rain
By DC Luder (dlcady@cazenovia.edu)

***

	The dull sky softly leaked cool mists of rain upon the grass.  I have my long coat 
on, which keeps any moisture from seeping into my dark clothing.  I guess it fits for it to 
rain today, of all days.  I push my right hand into my coat pocket to make sure the three 
by five cards are there.  Not that I need them.  I spent all of last night memorizing the 
words I will say today, and only wrote them down in the rare chance that I would forget 
them.

	I won't need them.  

	In my left arm, I carry a white rose, wrapped protectively with clear plastic.  Only 
the best for you, Dick.  Suddenly, I feel a strong hand gently touch my shoulder.  
Looking up, I see Bruce's grief stricken face, and the cane in his left hand.  Still not up to 
par.  He was taking this hard, blaming himself for what had happened to his son.  Also, I 
knew he hadn't slept a wink in the past week nor had he eaten which made him look even 
worse.  I smile at him and say quietly, "It's okay, Bruce."

	He nods slightly and I can see the pain in his eyes, "I know."

	He leans over and wraps his arm around my back and he guides me towards a 
small group of people.  I don't recognize several of the faces but I do see many that I do 
know.  Tim, Alfred and my father are all wearing tailored dark suits and frowns.  Alfred 
holds a folded umbrella in one hand and a handkerchief in the other.  Several of Dick's 
fellow officers that I have come to know as friends are grieving the same as the rest of us.  
Standing adjacent to Tim, I notice several others that had honored Dick throughout his 
life.  

Clark, Diana, J'onn, Barry…  

And standing next to Alfred is a dark haired girl of six years of age, in a small 
dark coat, underneath her own miniature umbrella.  Dick had gotten it for her when she 
was four.  She thought it was the best gift ever.  Of course, she always said that of 
everything he gave her. 

Daddy's little girl.

	Bruce and I stop five feet away from the group.  Actually, I am the one who 
pauses first.  A sudden heaviness settles in my chest, and I have to choke back the tears.  I 
have to be strong, I remind myself, and I promised myself I would be strong.  Bruce 
squeezes my shoulder before letting go.  I look at him, my eyes glassy.  He smiles 
bravely, but I see the tears in his eyes.  He leans in towards me and kisses my brow.  
Before standing straight, he whispers, "He's watching, Barbara.  Remember that."

	I nod, but I can only think of Dick's voice, in phrases from our past. Saying that I 
was his favorite babysitter.  His favorite girl.  His only girl.  That he was always going to 
be with me.  That he loved me…

	Bruce leaves and walks towards my daughter.  He kneels before her and says 
something that makes her smile.  Everyone always claims she has my smile, and his eyes.  
I secretly thought that they both were his.  His best features were passed down to our 
daughter, and I would always be grateful for that.  

	I retain my distance from the group, not quite ready to say my parting words to 
Dick.  I was still not ready to accept that he was gone.  No one had seen his end coming, 
no one.  He had gone against all of our advice to pursue Two-Face after Bruce had been 
severely injured, near dead from two bullets: a leg wound that nicked the femoral artery 
and a savage gut wound.  Dick's lusts for revenge had left him less cautious and lead him 
to eventually become face to face with Dent.

	When Bruce had told me the next morning, I blacked out at his solemn words.  
Luckily I had been at the manor and Alfred promptly cared for me.  I woke and fell apart 
in his arms as he tried to comfort me, saying he wasn't in any pain or that he had not 
suffered.  I recalled saying that the pain was going to begin for me.  After that, Bruce lost 
all composure and opened his soul to grief for the loss of his son.  Between Bruce and 
myself, we shed enough tears to fill an ocean or so.  

	But no longer would he suffer.  

	We both let our frustrations out on each other and those we loved.  We blamed 
ourselves for something that wasn't our fault.  It was only yesterday; over an uneaten 
breakfast that we realized Dick wouldn't have wanted us to act that way.  He would have 
wanted to see smiles and hear funny stories being told about him.  Bruce had started by 
saying, "I should have never let him design the Robin costume.  Those damned… short 
pants."  We laughed, the darkness in our hearts lifting slightly.

	I proceed forward towards the others.  I touch the cards again.  Nope, I won't 
need them at all.

	I clear my throat and move next to a marble tombstone that reaches my shoulder, 
sitting down of course.  I don't need to look at the words that are engraved into it, for I 
had filled the form out with Bruce three days prior, lying on the carpet in front of the 
couch.  He decided, with my once-over, what would title his resting place:  Richard John 
Grayson; A cherished son, husband, father and friend.  

	I leave the cards in my coat pocket and clear my throat again, grabbing the 
attention of everyone.  Help me to be strong, Dick.  I need your help so much right 
now…

	"I have known Dick since we were kids.  I grew to love his mind, body and soul 
as many of you have.  He was gifted with intelligence and willpower that pushed him into 
his role as a police officer, where he excelled in skill.  Although when we first met he 
was a rude young boy with a troubled past, I learned he was more than that as the years 
passed.  He was a man, with a kind heart and a concern for others."

	I look at Bruce, who was now beginning to cry.  

	"Dick proposed to me six years ago.  I was shocked, but happy.  We were going 
through Robinson Park after a dinner.  He took me into the plush grass and asked me.  I 
cried and said yes.  I'd never seen him happier than he was at that moment.  We had so 
many troubles in our lives, but right then and there, it was just us.   I married him and 
soon after and we shared a celebration of our love with the raising of a baby girl.  Our 
miracle child.  I learned then how gentle he was, as both a husband and a father.  He 
made our family come together."

	My father's face was now wet, not only with the rain.

	Actually, the only dry face I could see was my daughter's face.  Looking closer, I 
could see her bottom lip quivering.  

	Daddy's little girl.

	"I hope that we always cherish the good times we had with Dick.  Whether it be 
singing or cheating at Blackjack, he always had a way of making someone smile.  He 
lived his life the best he could.  He wore his trademark smile everyday.  He played with 
his daughter everyday.  And he made every moment count.

	"He made his life all that it could be.  And more."  I pause and lean towards 
Dick's tombstone.  I gently uncover the rose and kiss a velvet petal before setting it on 
the moist dirt. 

	I sit up straight and take a deep breath, "When I was thinking of what to say 
today, I could only think of the day he proposed to me.  The ring, our joy of just being 
together, now lost.  So much is gone from our lives, but yet, he's still here...  I found a 
poem a few days ago…  I think it fits him…  What he left with us…


	"Something's dead inside me, some yesterday is slain.  My heart is hung open on 
a cross; my thoughts are filled with pain.  And yet, there is within me, a hope I can't 
explain.  For in the darkness I can see God dancing in the rain."

	Tears break through my eyes and leak down my cheeks as the rain slows.  I 
continue, louder.

	"I surrender to the mystery of loss that turns to gain.  The little seed must die to 
become a field of grain…  And I know that it's in this time of grief, that Christ has risen 
again…"

	The rain suddenly ceases and the sun peaks out from beneath the clouds.  All of 
us look skyward and stare at the glimpse of light and blue sky.  My daughter's lips form 
into a smile.

	It is then I feel it.  Feel him.  His presence overwhelms my senses, comforting the 
heavy ache in my chest.  Encourages my body to relax.  I feel the warmth of his smile, 
the sound of his laugh.  I feel the strength of his belief in me.  I'm not sure, but I could 
swear his voice whispered in my ear.

	You're doing just fine, Babs….

	"Dick?" I whisper back.  He left, but he wasn't gone.

	I spoke softly and confidently, because I was doing just fine.

	"For in the darkness I can see God dancing in the rain."

***

**Finis**