Summary: Robin saves the day and Batman comes to terms with the situation.

Author's Note: Special thanks go out to Beth and PJ for beta-reading this final installment. I am not exaggerating when I say that their critical suggestions and eye for detail have made this a much better story than what I initially wrote. Also, thanks to everyone who's read and provided feedback—your kind words have been humbly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC, Time Warner, and CN; this is an original story that doesn't intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome.

Copyright: April 2012

Brightest Knight

By Syl Francis

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

"I'm going! If you want to come aboard, this bus is leaving in about 30 seconds…"

Startled, the world's greatest heroes suddenly found themselves inside an emerald teleporter portal. A quiet voice spoke in their heads, "Justice League transfer in five…four…three…two…one…Mark!"

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

A green zeta-beam wormhole appeared, and from one breath to another, the heroes were transported from the Watchtower to the middle of a heated battle! Without hesitation, the League assembled into prearranged battle formations and attacked.

Robin meanwhile took the fight to the mothership. Calling forth a Ring-generated virtual schematic of the great star ship's security system, he quickly hacked it and locked onto Batman and Martian Manhunter's positions. They were both in the engine room where the ship's core was located. Changing the view to a real-time video feed, he saw that they were surrounded and outnumbered.

Shaking his head ruefully, he muttered, "When he sees me, he's gonna kill me…"

Robin easily disabled the ship's security system and shields. Then, he put the video feeds into a continuous loop. Shrugging, he hacked the ship's helm/nav station and ordered the massive ship into a decaying orbit. If not corrected within the next half hour, the ship would enter the planet's atmosphere and begin burning up on re-entry.

"I guess they'll have to abandon ship." Remembering the crew of the frigate that had been forced to evacuate in open waters, he thought it poetic justice. Of course, if Batman had set the ship's core to explode, it was possible that the crew didn't even have a half-hour.

But then, neither did Batman.

Robin, the Teen Lantern, to the rescue! And could that sound any lamer? Boy Lantern? Kid Lantern? Bat Lantern?

It was a good thing this whole GL adventure was only temporary. He was already partner to the world's coolest guy and got to play with all the neat Bat-toys. So, he didn't need the Ring—did he?

Besides, Hal Jordan would always be Green Lantern in his and everyone else's eyes. And Dick so didn't need the guilt. Hal was like the cool uncle that all the kids loved to hang with because he didn't make them eat healthy or go to bed at a so-called reasonable hour or tell them they couldn't watch R-rated movies. Okay…maybe even Hal would draw the line on the last one because even with a Power Ring, it was doubtful if Hal could take on Batman—or Alfred, for that matter. Still, the guy had a cool super-power and a cool secret identity! Heroes like him never stayed down for long.

No…Dick was only a temporary replacement. The universe needed Hal Jordan. He'd come back. He had to.

In the meantime, Robin had a job to do.

Bringing up the engine room feed, Robin saw that Manhunter was down, and Batman was fighting hand-to-hand—one against twenty…nineteen...eighteen…Robin grinned. No one was firing his weapon for fear of setting off an explosion.

Which should make everything all the easier.

Robin flew in, his protective aura allowing him to literally go through the ship's hull. Okay…that's just freaking awesome!

He decided that all Green Lanterns must have wills of iron to keep from just playing with the Ring day in/day out. Did they ever just take it out for a spin? Just for fun of it? To test their limits? Maybe when this was over, he would be able to take it out for a test drive and kick the tires? Check under the hood—that sort of thing?

He sighed. He could just hear Batman's voice reminding him that the Power Ring was a dangerous weapon and not some kid's toy to play with.

Okay, focus! Engine room coming up!

Slipping in through the ceiling, Robin immediately noted Batman and Manhunter's locations. He also saw that the explosives had never been set. They were lying haphazardly in a corner where they had been undoubtedly tossed in the heat of battle. Quickly enveloping his mentor and Martian Manhunter in a protective bubble, he sent a mental command to the plastic explosives and levitated them toward the ship's core, where he attached them, and set the timers.

He shielded the C4 and detonator to prevent tampering. The shielding was only temporary and would collapse when the timer reached 00:00:00.

"If I were you, I'd be thinking about getting off this bucket," Robin shouted, addressing the enemy crewmembers. "Even if I don't set the explosives, which I just did…I've also got your ship in a decaying orbit. Whatever happens…it won't be long before your ship either blows up or burns up…or both!"

By now, he and the two senior heroes, encased in a protective bubble, were moving quickly through the ship's interior. With the merest thought, he sent out green energy tendrils that disabled the fighter aircraft that were currently sitting in the ship's fighter bay. Simultaneously, the Ring sought out and disabled any handheld weapons that the crewmembers might have on them as they hurried to the lifeboats. He also verified that the lifeboats were not armed.

Satisfied that he had done all he could to ensure that the crew could safely evacuate and wouldn't be able to carry the fight down to the heroes on the ground, he flew the protective bubble out of the ship and quickly put several nautical miles between them and the huge warship.

Within minutes, the D'Gutchck ship blew up—long before it could burn up on re-entry. Oh, well…a win is still a win, Robin thought smugly.

Once Batman and Martian Manhunter were safely on the ground, Batman said, "Good job," which was immediately followed by, "We'll talk later."

Oh, yeah…I'm so dead. Robin grimaced.

The Dark Knight got on the JL comms and contacted Stewart. "Break off whatever you're doing. Meet Robin and me by the ship."

When Stewart landed, Batman said, "Robin…show him how you removed and disarmed the aircrews simultaneously."

"Um, right…" Robin stammered. "Well…I—" He looked helplessly at Stewart. "I'm not sure how—?"

"Hey, that's okay, rookie," Stewart said, his deep, mellifluous voice helping to calm the boy. "We've all gotta learn sometime. Look here…" He proceeded to show Robin how to use the Ring to transfer his thought processes and illustrate how he removed and disarmed the alien crews from their aircraft.

Robin's eyes widened and his mouth formed a small O. Stewart grinned at the boy's awe at the simple illustration of the Ring's power, which was ironic considering some of Robin's heroic exploits with the Ring over past few days—accomplishments that Stewart himself had never achieved.

"All right…now it's your turn to share. Show me…"

After Robin demonstrated how to simultaneously dislodge and disarm the aircrews from their fighters, the two Green Lanterns began methodically rounding up the enemy combatants and placing them in shielded holding cells.

Those who had abandoned the warship in the lifeboats were promptly escorted to the cells as soon as they made landfall. When the six additional Green Lanterns arrived some ten hours later, the League determined that the prisoners had been given enough time to cool their heels.

Flanked by Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman, Green Lanterns John Stewart and Robin addressed the full complement of Botany Bay prisoners—new and old.

"The Green Lanterns came with a message from Oa," Stewart began. "The Guardians have graciously offered to have the GL Corps return you to your home planet if that is your wish. Understand though that your 'great Imperator' sent one of your warships here to destroy you because you failed in your primary mission…that of conquering Earth. We leave it to you," he said ironically. "Stay or go?"

"If we stay, what is there to prevent our mighty Imperator from sending another attack force?" D'Chet asked skeptically.

"The Green Lantern Corps has placed your home world under quarantine," Robin replied. "Nothing will go in or out without the Guardians' knowledge. Should your world engage in further aggression against its neighbors, then the GL Corps will step in. Believe us when we say…your Imperator doesn't want that kind of hurt to fall on his head."

It came as no surprise that what remained of the Imperator's Legion elected to stay on Botany Bay as their life expectancy on D'Gutchck would be incredibly short. D'Thor campaigned briefly for Red Squadron to return to D'Gutchck and appeal to the Imperator's better nature. After all, as he'd said time and again, the great Imperator had "…personally touched me on the forehead and given me—"

"—and given you the honor of leading the Legion's atmospheric fighters on his galactic crusade of conquest!" D'Chen interrupted. "Blah, blah, blah! We've heard it all before, D'Thor!"

"Flight Officer D'Thor if you wish to return home," Weapons Specialist D'Rhot said reasonably, "there is no one here to stop you. But my mate and I—" He held his hand out to a female crew member wearing identical uniform tabs. "—are tired of making war on people who have done us no harm. If the people of Earth whom we were sent to destroy and conquer can find it within themselves to spare our lives and let us live in peace, then I am eager to accept their offer."

"Here, here!" a large group shouted in approval.

Pilot Officer D'Chen again stepped forward. "Who wishes to stay and who wishes to go? Let each decide according to his own conscience!"

In the end D'Thor was outvoted. Stewart offered to take him to D'Gutchck, but D'Thor had already changed his mind. "I believe that Botany Bay could use someone with extensive command experience," he said thoughtfully. "To help in the building of the new colony, of course."

"Of course," Stewart agreed sardonically.

"I guess he'd 'rather rule in Hell than serve in heaven,' huh?" Robin said with a smirk.

"You know, Kid Flash told me you were some kind of a genius, Robin," the Flash said, "but I have to admit…I'm impressed that you know your Milton."

Robin's eyebrows went up. "My who?"

"John Milton…you know, Paradise Lost? You just quoted from it."

"No, I didn't…I quoted Kahn from Star Trek."

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

Batman and Robin spent the greater part of the return trip home behind closed doors. They were seen for meals, during which they kept largely to themselves. In the afternoon, they could be found in the ship's extensive hold, training. While Batman had his usual dour demeanor, Robin smiled and said "Hi" everyone; however, Batman's glower kept any friendly overtures toward the boy to a minimum.

Green Arrow and Black Canary assumed the boy was in trouble since they knew of Batman's decision to keep the Power Ring locked away. Obviously, Robin had disobeyed orders. Perhaps for the right reasons, but he'd disobeyed nonetheless.

"And the Bat is nothing if not a stickler for all those rules of his," Green Arrow grumbled.

"It's not our place, Ollie," Black Canary said. "Batman loves that boy, and it's pretty obvious Robin thinks the sun rises and sets on Batman. Whatever's going on between them, that's the one thing we can't lose sight of."

"I know…I remember when Roy used to look at me like that." Green Arrow gave a sad, wistful sigh. Smiling sympathetically, Black Canary placed her hand over his.

Others, like the Flash didn't quite get why the Boy Wonder would be in the doghouse, since he had essentially saved the day. When a few of the heroes that Robin had transported to Botany Bay in the nick of time began to grumble about the Bat's poor parenting skills, Wonder Woman called for cooler heads to prevail.

"After all," she pointed out, paraphrasing the Boy Wonder. "You wouldn't really want that kind of hurt to fall on your heads…would you?"

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

Four days later, Bruce and Dick walked into Family Court Judge Davis' chambers. Their small group included Alfred and Leslie, who were to act as witnesses, a representative from Child Welfare Services, and Wayne's team of lawyers.

The judge made a short speech about parental responsibility, what major a step it was, and how Mr. Wayne needed to be sure that he understood the gravity of such an undertaking.

It took all of Dick's willpower to keep from rolling his eyes. The judge didn't realize that he was talking to Mr. Gravitas, himself. Then, it was his turn to be addressed by the judge.

"Richard…do you understand the significance of what Mr. Wayne is about to do?"

"Yes, sir," Dick said quietly. Somehow he managed not to say "D'uh!"

"What I mean is—that this paperwork isn't just about Mr. Wayne adopting you, this is also about your agreeing to the adoption and becoming his son. Legally, you are not at the age of consent; however, you are old enough to know what you want. And the court wants to ensure that your wishes are also being met. So…Richard, are you ready to accept Mr. Wayne in the role of your father? Being answerable to him? Being dependent on him for far more than just a roof over your head or food on the table?"

Dick took a breath and let it out slowly. How was he to put into words the jumbled feelings that were all mixed up inside him? He thought of his family—the Flying Graysons: his mom and dad, Uncle Rick and Aunt Karla, and their son, his older cousin John—all killed in a fall from the high wire, or in the case of his uncle, hospitalized for the rest of his life.

But more importantly, he thought of his mom and dad, and of the overwhelming sense of loss, pain, and grief that he'd felt that night and each subsequent night thereafter. It was a dull, lingering ache that he carried with him still, one that never completely went away.

And yet…

Bruce had been there that night and each day and night that followed. When Dick wanted to exact revenge from Tony Zucco, Bruce had shown him the path of justice. When Dick felt the darkness begin to consume him, Bruce stood as a beacon of hope.

And in the four years that Dick had lived, trained, and fought alongside him, Bruce had never overtly tried to replace his dad.

And yet…

Bruce had asked Dick to keep the Power Ring locked safely away until he could receive proper training—not because he didn't trust him to misuse the Ring's power, but because he was worried for Dick's safety, a boy whom he considered his son.

Of course, this begged the question: Why had Dick agreed to such an extreme course of action?

"Judge Davis, that piece of paper there only means that Bruce will legally be my father." He shrugged. "But, you see…" Dick turned to Bruce and held his eyes. "...I don't need a piece of paper to tell me who my father is. I've known it here—" He put his hand over his heart. "—for a long time now."

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

From the outside, the building resembled an old-style airplane hanger, but as Bruce and Dick walked into the lobby of Ferris Aircraft, they couldn't help being impressed by the interior's Art Deco architecture, reminiscent of another time and place. It was a bright and airy space with plenty of filtered sunlight from the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows that comprised the entire north-facing wall. On the right, as one entered, a wall mural tastefully depicted several scenes from the barnstorming era of aviation: The Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk; a smiling Amelia Earhart waving goodbye from the open cockpit of her single engine plane; the Spirit of St. Louis disappearing into the breaking dawn over the Atlantic.

It was a place that spoke of success in the field of aviation and in business.

Bruce knew Carol Ferris professionally. Wayne Tech and Ferris Aircraft had worked on several mutually beneficial projects and currently had at least three concepts on the drafting table. Besides having met during contract negotiations, they were also members of several charitable boards in which they shared common interests.

Still, this was the first time he had ever flown to Nevada to visit her company. Unfortunately, this wasn't a professional visit. No, he and Dick were there for a much more solemn and personal reason.

When they announced themselves to the receptionist—Ms. Atkinson—she smiled and pointed them to a small, comfortable sitting area, furnished with a couple of soft leather sofas and chairs. There was a complimentary hot drink dispenser set up that offered a variety of flavored coffees, teas, and hot chocolate. Forgoing the free refreshments, Bruce and Dick took a seat while their arrival was reported.

Bruce's secretary had called ahead at the last minute to inform Carol's executive office of his unscheduled visit. It was last minute because Bruce had literally called and informed his own office of his plans just as his corporate jet was landing outside of Reno, Nevada. By the time he was turning onto the access road leading to Ferris Aircraft, Bruce had received word that Ms. Ferris would be able to fit him in that afternoon for a few minutes.

As he waited, Dick stared at nothing in particular. His mind kept playing over and over their hospital visit yesterday.

"Two birds with one stone," he muttered darkly.

"Excuse me?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing." Dick shook his head, his mind turning to thoughts of Hal and his uncle. The boy was struggling with too much guilt to be able to talk aloud about any of it just yet.

Since his family's tragedy, Dick had paid his Uncle Rick regular hospital visits. At first, he'd gone almost every day, usually right after school. He would do his homework, while talking quietly to his uncle about anything and everything that was happening in his life.

The day after he'd discovered Bruce's secret life and helped bring down Zucco, Dick rushed to the hospital to share it with him. In hurried, fervent whispers, Dick gave his uncle a blow-by-blow account of Zucco's downfall, while tightly holding onto his hand. He wasn't sure, of course—in fact, he privately admitted that he had probably imagined it—but Dick could have sworn that his uncle had squeezed his hand slightly in response.

Sadly, that had been the first and last time that Dick had perceived any kind of sign from his uncle that he might be on the road to recovery. Before long, the daily visits became weekly, and those were soon reduced to monthly. Now, he usually stopped by only on holidays and birthdays.

Yesterday, he and Bruce had visited his uncle at the Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital, where he occupied a private room that was more luxury suite than hospital room. It had a small sitting area with an attached kitchenette and an extra-large bathroom. The room opened out onto a balcony that overlooked the scenic, tree-lined cliffs of the Gotham River gorge.

The room was located on a private floor that belonged to the Wayne family, adding to the peaceful setting. Until yesterday, Dick's uncle had been the sole patient.

Now Rick had gained a new neighbor, Hal Jordan, who had been moved next door into an identical suite. As Bruce had solemnly explained: since Hal had been injured while attempting to rescue Dick, he was no longer just a friend and colleague; he was now considered a member of the family.

Hal's room had the same basic floor plan as Rick's, and it opened out to the same balcony. Dick smiled, imagining his uncle and Hal sitting out there in the morning, sipping their morning coffee.

The smile faded.

The doctors' prognosis in Hal's case had not been promising. Whatever the energy beam used to strike down the hero had been, it had affected his entire nervous system. It was as if his brain synapses had been utterly overloaded and firing in a chaotic manner. This had affected his autonomic system, and as a result, Hal had been placed on full life support to prevent organ shut down.

It would be a long time, if ever, before the two fliers—pilot and aerialist—would engage in such a mundane activity as quietly sharing a cup of coffee…

The receptionist—Ms. Atkinson, he remembered—walked up to them, interrupting Dick's dark thoughts.

"Mr. Wayne, Ms. Ferris will see you now. If you'll please step this way." The young woman led them to a private, express elevator. Obviously nervous, she fumbled slightly as she placed her passkey in the appropriate slot. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her nerves and much to her relief succeeded in activating the elevator.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne," she said with an apologetic shrug at Bruce. "We don't get a lot of…well, celebrities such as yourself way out here in the middle of nowhere. We're all pretty much down-to-earth around here." As she spoke, she pressed the top button.

"Please, Ms. Atkinson, apologies aren't necessary. And just for the record…my son and I—" Bruce offered her a polite smile as he casually placed his hand on Dick's shoulder in an absent-minded, fatherly gesture. "—Well, we like to think that we're pretty much down-to-earth, too."

Dick nodded in agreement. Less than a minute later, they stepped off the elevator and were greeted by Carol, herself.

"Bruce, what a surprise," Carol said, smiling pleasantly. She shook his hand politely. "I heard that Gotham was hit pretty hard during the invasion. I hope you and Wayne Corp managed to come through well."

"We did suffer some key personnel losses that I'm afraid will be keenly felt for quite some time." Bruce shrugged. "We can only go forward."

"I'm so sorry, Bruce. Please…if there's anything we at Ferris Aircraft can do—"

"That isn't why we came, Carol."

"Oh, please forgive my manners," she said by way of apology. She smiled at Dick. "And whom do we have here?"

"Carol, may I present my son, Richard Grayson-Wayne."

"I heard you'd made it official, Bruce," she said with a sincere smile. "Congratulations to you both! And it's a pleasure to meet you, Richard." They shook hands.

Dick looked uncomfortable. "Yes, m'am."

"Please…won't you be seated? Would you care for anything to drink?"

Bruce and Dick both shook their heads. Dick studied her. She was between 25-30—rather young to be running such a large corporation like Ferris Aircraft. Bruce had informed Dick that Carol's father, the founder of the company, had died within the last year, leaving her the company to run.

"So…? Bruce, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

Bruce looked suddenly uncomfortable, and Dick could well understand why. For if Carol Ferris had become CEO of the company as a direct result of her father's death, then the company's financial success was due in no small part to the flying skills of the company's foremost test pilot and resident daredevil—Hal Jordan.

"There's no easy way to say this, Carol…" Bruce began, dreading the words he was about to say. "So, I'll simply say it straight."

As Dick listened, he barely heard the concocted story of Hal Jordan's "accident" while test flying Wayne Tech's newest aircraft as a personal favor to Bruce. Because Carol didn't know of Hal's second job, Bruce didn't feel that it was his secret to tell her. No, if Hal ever recovered and again took up the mantle of Green Lantern, then it would be his choice to reveal his secret identity to her if and when he felt it was the right time.

"As you know, Hal and I are old friends. He dropped by for a visit at Wayne Corp a couple days before the invading fleet entered our atmosphere. Lucius and I had shown him the plans for our newest plane. It had been about two months out from its first shakedown flight; however, because of the impending invasion we were forced to move up its timetable."

Bruce paused in his story, gauging her reaction. Although her facial expression remained outwardly calm, her hands were slowly closing and opening, revealing her growing anxiety.

"The military needed any advantage it could gain against the alien fighters," he continued. "Despite the initial timetable, believe me…every indication showed that the plane was ready for its first test flight. I never would have approved moving it up otherwise. Anyway, after I showed Hal the plane's schematics, I jokingly asked him if he was interested in taking her out for her shakedown flight…" Bruce paused and deliberately held her eyes. "He took me up on it, and two days later…" He sighed. "…Everything was going fine. The plane was exceeding our highest expectations—but then, as you well know, Hal has a way of drawing out the best performance from any aircraft. Anyway, he was having a great time, when out of nowhere, an enemy fighter just appeared on our radar. Before we could even warn him, it was already locked onto him…Hal did everything he could to shake him, but—"

Carol's face paled, her violet eyes huge with dread. "No…"

Bruce dropped his head in shame. "He's in a coma—"

She shook her head in disbelief. Coma? No, that wasn't possible!

Bruce's voice faded into the background, becoming little more than noise. Carol went through all of Hal's qualifications in her mind, as if to reassure herself of the impossibility of his being injured.

"—in the Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital—"

Hal's the best damn pilot in the whole world!

"—in Bristol. Wayne Corp is paying all his hospital bills—"

There's just no way he could've been taken by surprise!

"—private room, private nurse, doctors—"

I'd know…I'd just know if something had happened to him—!

"—you name it…money's no object—"

Money? He thinks I care about money?

"—Hal is actually next door to Dick's—"

Get out. Had she spoken aloud? It was so hard tell.

"—Uncle Rick. Their suites are in a private wing—"

"Get out!" There, he surely heard that! Did I scare the boy? He has the most expressive eyes…

Bruce blinked in surprise. "Carol, please—"

"Just—"

Bruce opened his mouth to interrupt, but she beat him to it.

"—Get out!"

She jumped to her feet and threw herself at Bruce, hitting him over and over on the chest with her fists. She struck out in time to her hysterical litany: "Get out, get out, get out!" The tears began to flow freely, and as her punches grew weaker, her legs slowly began to fold under her.

Bruce gathered her up in his strong arms, murmuring in her ear, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

Dick looked away unable to bear her heartbreak. He squeezed his eyes shut—a futile effort to keep the tears away.

Hal had saved his life. He was the real hero—someone whom Dick had looked up to for a long time. And now? Now, he lay in a coma in a hospital—possibly never to wake again.

And Dick had his Ring. Only he didn't really—it was being kept locked away, where it would probably atrophy from disuse. Just like Hal and Uncle Rick…their minds were locked away some place where the people who loved them couldn't reach him. Hal's once athletic body would also atrophy from disuse. Just like Uncle Rick's.

It wasn't fair.

The universe wasn't fair.

~ / ~ / ~ / ~

The following night in the Bat-cave, Dick looked worriedly between Bruce and Alfred. He didn't know what was going on just that Bruce wanted him in the cave ASAP. Like Bruce, he was dressed in simple sweat pants and a black tee shirt.

Alfred gave him a nod of encouragement, while Bruce gave him a half-smile that warmed his insides. It helped ease the tight feeling in his chest that had settled there since their visit to Ferris Aircraft.

Bruce held out a medium-sized ring box. Dick stared at it doubtfully but reached for it after a beat. Swallowing nervously, he opened it with shaking fingers. As he cracked the lid open, a blinding green light spilled out, disturbing the bats hiding amid the cave's shadows.

As the light faded, Dick blinked to clear his dazzled eyes. Nestled inside on a bed of white satin was the Ring.

Dick looked up startled. "Bruce, I—I don't understand. I thought…?" He waved an arm helplessly, unable to finish. He wanted to say that he thought Bruce didn't think he was ready. That despite his performance during the invasion and afterward, that Bruce thought he needed to wait until he was older, more experienced.

Also, as he'd spent almost his entire waking hours on the return trip from Botany Bay confined to quarters and in deep meditation with Bruce quietly coaching in the background, Dick figured that he'd been grounded for breaking his promise.

Dick had explained how the Ring had appeared of its own accord and warned him of the events on Botany Bay. Bruce's response had been a noncommittal grunt. He then ordered the meditation exercises. The long hours required of sitting still in the same position had been brutal for a boy used to constant movement. The physical workouts in the afternoon had been a relief, a chance for Dick to simply let go.

Reflecting on the days onboard the spaceship, Dick admitted privately that Bruce had never once said the meditation exercises were a punishment. He'd just said that Dick needed the practice.

"I think that your actions in Botany Bay and during the whole invasion proved beyond a doubt that a will as strong as yours needs training," Bruce said. "Right now, your abilities with the Ring have been partially gutsy and largely instinctive—certainly impressive—but all done on the fly." Bruce shook his head. "Son, you have to learn how to properly harness the raw power of the Ring by using your instinct, your intellect, and your imagination—"

"The three I's?" Dick asked irreverently.

"You'll seek out all that potential energy, from somewhere here and here—" he tapped Dick's forehead and heart. "Hal once described the emerald energy as almost a predatory beast: Fierce, strong, ready to spring on the unwary, waiting for someone with the strength of character to channel it properly and bend it to his will."

"But how?" Dick asked, sounding small.

"That's what your training is for, Dick. Together—and with a little help from Stewart—we'll discover the how."

Mentor and pupil, father and son sat down cross-legged, eyes closed, facing each other.

"Okay, Dick…" Bruce spoke quietly, calmly. He was the still waters of a deep pool, reflecting silvery moonbeams on a cool spring night. "You know what to do. Just like we practiced on the trip back home. Calm your mind, center your soul, ground your body."

Nodding, Dick took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Before long, he found his center, and keeping his eyes closed, he looked inward and calmed the chaotic thoughts that had been swirling within him.

Dick pictured an old-fashioned green lantern in his mind's eye—the same kind he had seen Hal Jordan conjure seemingly out of thin air whenever he needed to recharge his Ring. As he did so, he slowly felt himself being grounded, becoming one with the universe, one with the Ring.

"That's it, Dick…" Bruce murmured. "You can see sense it now…"

"Yessss…"

"Reach for it inside your mind…Can you feel it? It's the center of your soul…"

Dick nodded. Yes…he could feel it, burning with limitless power. It was everywhere…inside him and outside…in the trees, in the grass…in the very air around him.

It was a part of him, of Bruce, of Alfred—of all mankind.

It was a part of all life and all matter.

It was the emerald energy that powered the Universe.

And the Ring.

Dick felt rather than saw the deep, emerald glow that enveloped him. Opening his eyes, he smiled at the sight of the power battery in the shape of a green lantern hanging, suspended in midair before him. Straightening up, he stood and walked toward it. Hesitating, he looked at Bruce and smiled at his father's nod of approval.

The moment of truth.

Dick thrust his hand inside the power battery, and the Ring responded immediately to the energy source.

Then almost as if he were standing outside himself, watching from afar, Dick heard his voice recite the solemn oath…

"In brightest day, in blackest night…no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power…Green Lantern's light!"

"Richard John Grayson-Wayne, Green Lantern of Space Sector 2814…"

It was the same cold, disembodied voice that had spoken to him in the enemy ship and later when warning him that Bruce was in danger. From the expression on Bruce's face, it was obvious that he also heard the voice, and it was taking all of his willpower not to interrupt.

"You have one of the strongest wills ever wielded by a Green Lantern, powered by the purity and innocence of your youth and the creativity of a highly intelligent and disciplined mind. Once you report to the Guardians of the Universe at Oa for training, you will—"

"Enough!" Bruce interrupted the smug voice that had begun to grate in his ear.

"Who dares interrupt the Guardians of the Universe?"

"I dare! You are not taking my 13-year-old minor child off world for any reason! I don't care who you are!"

Several voices responded at once, talking over one another in a strange sort of excitement. If one could equate cold and unfeeling with being excited.

"He was Chosen by the Ring."

"Never has there been a Green Lantern who could open a wormhole with the Power Ring!"

"Such knowledge and control must be trained—!"

"I'll train him—"

"You are not a Green Lantern and therefore not versed in the way of the Power Ring and the green energy of the universe—"

"Then John Stewart will either show me how, or he will help with Richard's training. And let's get another thing straight…until Richard turns eighteen—and maybe not even then—he's to be the Green Lantern of Earth, not of Space Sector 2814."

"And what of the innocent inhabitants of the other planets in this sector? Are they to suffer without a protector for whatever number of years you deem necessary before Richard is ready to pick up the mantle?"

"John Stewart and Guy Gardner—two trained Green Lanterns—have already agreed to patrol the rest of Space Sector 2814 between them. As for Richard's reaching the age of consent…my son is still a child—physically, emotionally, and also legally by our laws and customs. More importantly, because he's only a child, Richard can't be held accountable by a decision that is made today."

Bruce reached his hand out and laid it on Dick's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Children, by their very nature, must be given the freedom to choose their own path and to change their minds if they don't like where the path leads. When he grows up, Richard may decide to follow in my footsteps, or not. He may decide to devote his entire life to the Green Lantern Corps, or he may not. Whatever happens, it will be his decision…one which I will support to the best of my ability. And that you will accept—regardless of outcome!"

"Bruce Wayne, your words speak true. And, as a Ring has not Chosen one who is not of the age of consent for several of your millennia, your conditions are acceptable—providing that you allow Green Lantern John Stewart give Richard the training he needs—"

"You mean 'allow' Stewart to give Dick the training I say he needs."

"The Green Lantern Corps follows a very rigorous training program for all its new recruits. Our drill instructor, Green Lantern Kilowog, will provide Green Lantern Stewart with a training regimen for Richard that should prove adequate—"

"Actually, I will go over the proposed training regimen with Stewart and determine its adequacy. I have been training Dick since he was nine in both mental and physical disciplines. I know what his needs are!"

"That's true!" Dick piped up. "If it hadn't been for the meditation exercises Bruce has been teaching me since, well, forever, I never could've made the Ring work. And, well, during the invasion…if I was messing up or couldn't remember what to do, Bruce was right there coaching me. See, he's my partner...and my father. I trust him."

"Your demands, Bruce Wayne, are highly unusual. But then, this situation in which we find ourselves is also highly unusual. Please wait, while my colleagues and I confer…"

Bruce tried to exude an air of calm as they waited for the most powerful beings in the universe to determine the fate of one small boy.

"You'd think these so-called Guardians would have better things to do than sit around deciding whether Master Richard should be home schooled or sent to their Green Lantern boarding school." Alfred's small attempt to lighten the mood didn't really work, but Dick smiled dutifully and Bruce acknowledged his efforts with a small nod.

The time passed, and just as Dick was about to lose hope, the Guardians spoke once more.

"Bruce Wayne, you are a man of great discipline and integrity. Your will is strong and you have a strong sense of justice. Given another set of circumstances, we believe that the Ring would have Chosen you as its wielder."

"No, thanks," Bruce muttered under his breath. The JL Watchtower was as far out in space as he ever wished to go.

"Richard John Grayson-Wayne of Earth…"

Dick straightened up, realizing that he was finally being addressed by the disembodied voice. "Yes, sir?"

"Listen well to your father and mentor, for he speaks words of wisdom. Wear the Ring well, and wield its might not only to protect the weak and helpless, but also, to serve the cause of justice. The universe has great plans for you, Green Lantern of Earth; your home world is but a small stop on the long road to your destiny. May the solar winds be always at your back, and may the great Power Battery be only a hand's reach away…"

As the voice spoke, the Ring activated and sheathed Dick in a green aura. Bruce watched, transfixed, as his son's transformation began: His workout clothes were replaced by a Kevlar-reinforced black bodysuit. There was a single green wing-shape across his chest that extended along his slender shoulders, down both arms, to the tips of his first two index fingers. Centered over his left breast, much like a policeman's badge, was a small replica of a power battery—the symbol of the Green Lantern Corps.

"Whoa…I don't believe it," Dick said reverently. "Bruce, it looks just like my Nightwing avatar uniform!"

At Bruce's blank stare, Dick explained impatiently, "You know…Nightwing! From the online game KF and I play all the time! He's Quicksilver and I'm Nightwing. Only my avatar's wing is blue, not green." Dick looked thoughtful. "Are you sure you're okay with this, Bruce? 'Cause if you're not, then I'll just send the Ring back…ask it to find someone else."

"No…you're helping a friend until he's able to return to the job. We have to believe that Hal will be back soon. In the meantime, I expect you to be the best GL of Earth that you can be."

"Bruce…what if Hal doesn't-?"

"Let's wait until we have to cross that bridge before we start to worry."

"But, Bruce…what if Hal doesn't come back and I have to be a Green Lantern for keeps?" Dick tried real hard to stay 'traught, but the dis- was categorically making itself known despite his best efforts to hold it at bay. "What'll happen to the Dynamic Duo?" His voice sounded small and young.

"Whatever happens, Dick…you'll do what you've always done. You'll do what's right in your heart. And don't worry about the Dynamic Duo…We're partners, right?" He placed a comforting hand on Dick's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll always have your back."

Dick's face lit up at his mentor's words, and without conscious effort or assistance from the Ring, he executed three back flips and a round off. With child-like glee, he ran to the gymnastics equipment and proceeded to go through his routines.

As Bruce watched from the sidelines, he realized that Hal Jordan would have approved of Dick as his replacement because as an ex-Air Force brat, Hal had been born to fly. Odd, how he'd never noticed the similarities between Hal and Dick before…

Bruce slowly felt a sense of peace come over him. Whatever Dick's future held, one thing was certain—Dick had been defying gravity since he'd learned to walk and would continue to do so for a lifetime to come—with or without a Power Ring.

After all, his son had also been born to fly!

The End