Disclaimer: Ownership of DC comics characters is one thing I wish I had. Unfortunately it's also impossible at this present time. Too bad. I think I'd do a pretty good job with them.

Well, here it is! The last part of the 'Dead Inside' trilogy! Remember, this is about redemption, not action or comedy or all those lovely things. It has that, yes, but this is a redemption story. if you haven't read the first to, do. Now. They're in my profile.

Without further ado, Taking Flight.

Taking Flight

"Do you really have to go?"

Dick looked to his pouting brother sitting on his bed. It was strange to see in general because one thing Tim wasn't was a whiner. He didn't pout, whine, or complain about the hand he'd been dealt. He gripped and mumbled on occasion whenever things didn't quite work out in his head or seemed unfair, but pouting like a child? That was weird.

Yet there he was, pouting on the young man's bed while questioning and objecting to the course of action he was about to undertake. An army issue (bat-issue actually) backpack was sitting there, being filled with clothes, medicine, food, weapons, and other necessities, all of them Dick's. He was figuring out if there was anything else in his room he should take with him, anything he'd really need or would want while on his trip. Tim was supposed to be there to remind him what those would be, and so far he only added a few small items because of him.

Still he smiled at the kid. "I've done everything I can here Tim. The rest I have to do in person. I need to make things right."

"But can't you wait until summer vacation or something?" The teen whined again. It was endearing how much the guy didn't want him to leave. Fourteen years old and he acted like a five year old who was just told his dad was going on a business trip. Well a normal five year old. Since this kid's parents were always gone like that, he probably had a different reaction to them leaving. Kinda made sense why he was so determined to keep his brother around as much as possible when he said he was going to be leaving for a while. "Then we could all go together and-"

"Tim," Dick looked the boy squarely in the eye as he spoke, "I have to do this alone. The things I have to do... they won't mean anything if Bruce tags along and does them, and you're not ready for them yet. I've waited until Spring Break to take off so everyone could see me off.

"I'm not leaving for good and I'm not running away." He gave his successor a reassuring smile. "I'm just taking care of a few loose ends and figuring out what to do next. With any luck, I'll be back here before summer vacation starts. Then we can really have fun."

"You promise?" There was a plea in the boy's eyes. He really didn't want his brother to leave. Tim was uncomfortable during the times Bruce or Batman left town for a couple weeks, anxious and unsure of everything. It was almost unsettling how much the kid worried about business trips rather than late patrols. One of the permanent emotional scars left on him courtesy of the Drakes. He hated not knowing where people were for long periods of time. He had to have contact with them while on their trips, to know how things were going. Kid almost had a full-blown panic attack when Batman seemingly vanished for three weeks, no contact whatsoever. Secretly Dick was scared too but Bruce neglecting radio contact wasn't that unusual for him. Ended up being abducted by aliens for a small war (half the League too) and was teleported straight into the cave when they were done.

So he knew why the kid didn't want him to go, at all. He ran a hand through the boy's hair affectionately (something Tim had finally gotten used to), smiling at him. "Can't promise on the date, but I can promise I'll be back. You can count on it."

"Better not forget your cellphone and charger then." Tim inclined his head to the two items on his bed stand still. He nearly had forgotten them. Quickly Dick grabbed both, stuffing his phone in his pocket and the charger into the bag. He also grabbed the book he received from Clark and stuffed it inside. One thing he learned during his years as Slade's apprentice was that sometimes life just got boring and you wished you had a book with you. Besides, some of his favorite stories were in it.

"Anything else you can think of?" He looked around the room again. Certain things, like his favorite stuffed toy or photos of his family and friends, were staying there for safe keeping. Proof he was coming back. Anything else that he didn't need would also remain where they were.

The boy shrugged, still down cast. "Computer?"

"I can just borrow one from any Wayne building in the country," the young man reasoned easily.

"Tools for your bike?"

"Already in the saddlebags. Emergency supplies and camping gear too, the stuff I can't carry."

"A map?"

"In the bag, plus three GPS units." He waved his phone at him, grinning. "Got a bat-com on my belt too. Not losing one of those again. And it connects to the Watchtower when needed."

"Can it tell time?"

"No but this can." He held up his wrist and the watch Tim had given him for his birthday earlier that week. Twenty-two and living free. It was his first real birthday in five years and he loved every minute of it. Still, recalling the previous four had driven him to doing this even more.

Seeing the watch seemed to calm the boy down a bit. "What about keeping warm? Motorcycles aren't known for keeping people warm."

"Jacket's right over there with my gloves." Dick pointed to his ill-used desk and the items in question. The jacket was custom made, black leather with dark blue lines going down his arms from his shoulders (one of many presents from Bruce, who was always over compensating with gifts). It really looked like he was ready to go.

"How long are you going to wait to cut your hair anyway?"

He looked at the kid then to the side, not really thinking about the question. Over the past five years he'd been growing out his hair. Partly because he was so busy being mad with Slade and never bothered to cut it, and partly to keep his apprentice self away from his true self, Dick Grayson. But he still hadn't cut it, even after being free of that madman for ten months.

That was how long ago it was when he was finally freed from that assassin's grasp, ten months. The previous May, he and his master were supposed to kill Mayor Krol of Gotham City, but Batman and Robin kept getting in the way. When the two duos clashed a third time, Slade had nearly beaten Batman and started taunting him, threatening to take the third Robin as his apprentice as well. Though the Renegade brainwashing was nearly complete (how Dick was back then), hearing that threat made him snap and attack his master with everything he had. The suddenness of the attack threw Slade off guard and Dick won the fight pretty quickly, saving Batman and his successor. It had also ruined what effects Deathstroke's training had on his mind, giving him a chance to heal once Bruce took him away from the madman. He spent the past ten months healing and getting fully past all of that. The first four were the worst of it, but once he managed to start talking to Bruce about things in the fifth month, everyone could agree he'd be fine again.

A grand total of ten months since his freedom started, and he still hadn't chopped off that eighteen to twenty inches of hair he had grown during captivity. Why he hadn't he wasn't sure. Long hair was annoying. Still, he kept it for some reason. "Dunno. Maybe once I get my head together. There's a few things I want to get done while I'm gone. It's on the list."

He looked around the room one more time. "I think that's everything."

"I guess."

Both of them felt the pain of loneliness start as he zipped up the bag. "Okay, so there's cell service nearly everywhere right?"

"Nearly," Tim agreed, sliding off the bed. "With yours, only in a few areas will there be no service. Like Atlantis, the moon, interior of the Earth, north pole, south pole, Themescara-"

"Okay! In the US," he emphasized, holding back a laugh, "I've got service everywhere right? 'Cause I'm not going to any of those places. Well, maybe a cave or two but... I am going cross country. Empty fields of grain and all that nature stuff. I think I'll be camping a lot."

"That sucks." By the way the kid cringed at the idea, it was clear he didn't care much for camping.

"Okay, just for that, we're going camping as soon as I get back." An impish grin grew on his face. "We'll call it wilderness survival training and Bruce will be all for it."

"Hey!"

"Sounds good." They both turned from their playful teasing when they heard their mentor comment at the door. He looked a bit tired but that wasn't too surprising considering the tough patrol he had last night. His dislocated shoulder was in a sling and Alfred was just behind him, making sure he didn't over exert himself like normal. Both had accepted Dick was leaving for a while, and had taken it much better knowing it wouldn't be forever. This was not going to be a repeat of his running away nearly six years ago. "I'll put it on my calendar. In stone."

"Must you take the motorcycle Master Richard?" The butler complained again in a dignified manner. It was his one objection through the entire process. "A car would be much safer and would provide shelter when needed."

"It would also provide a lot more temptations," the young man insisted, picking up his jacket and putting it on. "Back seats and all that. Plus I'm better at fixing bikes than I am cars. Parking won't be an issue, gas will be better... There's just a lot of reasons I want to use it over a car."

"And there are many other reasons why a car is much safer than a motorcycle. Deadly accidents are much more likely to occur on them than in cars being one of them."

"Alfred," it took all his self-control not to roll his eyes as he explained himself yet again, "I drove cross country on that bike before, when I first went to Jump. It served me well then, it'll do just as well now."

"And with the modifications and repairs since then," Bruce interrupted, "it's even safer. There really isn't anything to worry about. He'll be fine."

The man's confidence in him brought a warm smile to Dick's face. He wasn't always this supportive of his actions, but after another long talk the other night, he understood why he had to leave or a while. It was part of his healing process, a time to redeem himself and give him a chance to forgive himself. Though he had accepted much of what had happened while he was away, there were still the things he did as Slade's apprentice to handle. Everything that could be done from the manor was done. But there were some things he had to do in person.

And that was why he was leaving, to take care of that.

"Glad someone agrees," he quipped.

"Fine is a relative term," Alfred reminded them, giving his former ward a pointed glare. "Especially in this household. Will you need help taking your bag down stairs Master Richard?"

For a moment he considered saying no and that he had to get used to the weight, but then he thought about Alfred and how he was. Service was his 'language of love'. He couldn't deny him this. "Maybe a little."

Finally smiling, the butler took the bag while Dick picked up his helmet and gloves. Soon he was leading the three of them out of his room and down stairs to the garage where his bike was waiting for him. A good one too, custom built naturally and not too flashy for a civilian (with hidden features of course). As they traveled, reminders were given and minor questions were asked.

"You've memorized everyone's numbers correct?"

"And addresses." Dick smirked over to his worried mentor. "You can keep track of where I've been when I bum over to at different Leaguer's places. I'm not turning off any of the GPS gizmos either."

"They aren't written down or in your phone right?"

He rolled his eyes. Worried less for his safety but more for his alibi. Dick Grayson technically wasn't in Gotham, or in the US. He was still 'abroad' and would stay that way until he returned and the adoption was finalized. Having a double life sometimes really sucked, but it gave him privacy. He'd be going by Robert Grays while on the road, officially. His cover was being a college student on a retreat, all expenses paid by Wayne Enterprises. Robert wouldn't know the identities of the Justice League, or where they lived.

Dick Grayson though did. And as soon as he was out of Bruce's city, the numbers of his closest friends, League, Titan, and civilian alike, were going into that phone. Yes he had them all memorized, but that was in case he lost it or needed to use a payphone. Man he loved contact lists. And having a phone that read your biometrics as a passcode made that more secure than others. "No, it's empty except for yours, Alfred's, Tim's, and Bab's numbers. Oh, and Pop Haly's. Can't forget him. And there's Leslie. She's an emergency contact."

"Did you call Barbara and tell her you were leaving?" Tim asked out of curiosity.

That won him a smirk. "Call? No. Visited with her and talked about it two days ago. I'll be giving her a heads up that I'm going when I'm past city limits."

"She's all for this?" The teen blinked at him owlishly.

"Wouldn't say that," he admitted, "but she understands it. I owe her big when I get back."

"Dinner and a movie?"

"Bit bigger than that."

"Maybe you can take her camping instead."

"You're not getting out of training that easily." Bruce gave the kid a slight glare, making him duck his head. The man shook his head. "Do you think you have enough cash?"

"I... think I can make due with a thousand bucks Bruce." Were they really having this conversation again? "Breaking it down into smaller bills without attracting attention is the only thing I'm worried about."

In the garage at last Dick pressed the button to open the large metal door. Late morning sunlight peeled in, making them wince a bit. Though two of them were birds, they were all still creatures of the night. He fastened his jacket a little tighter then worked on his gloves. Another custom leather set. Really, even when he was supposed to be roughing it, he looked like a rich boy. Well, a week or two on the road would fix that.

"If you need more cash-"

That made him turn on his soon-to-be-official father with a sharp, annoyed glare. "Bruce, I was born in a trailer, raised on the road, grew up in a circus where we all helped out. A thousand bucks for my family took care of gas and food for a month, eating out. Plus other expenses and frivolities. I think I'll be fine on my own with that much for more than one month. Quit worrying about money.

"Besides, I also have that credit card." He just rolled his eyes again, moving on. "I'll be fine. You just remember to be careful and look out for each other out there okay? I want to come back to something other than another grave."

Chastened, Bruce grunted, a pout peeking from his features. Though he acted like he was okay with this, they all knew better. Not being there for Dick all the time worried the man. He just tended to display it with criticism and money other than directly saying it. Typical Bruce.

Dick looked over his family once again, ready to leave. "Well. This is it. Can I get a few hugs before riding off into the sunset?"

"It isn't evening yet," Tim objected, only to get caught up into a tight hug. His brother was laughing.

"Figure of speech Timmy." He smothered his face into the kid's hair, encouraging him to return the hug in full. Didn't take long for him to feel smaller arms wrapping around him tightly. "Man I'm gonna miss you baby bird."

"I'll miss you too." The teen's sad voice told him he was already missed. After a minute they parted, a plea in his successor's eyes. "Call every day okay?"

"As often as I can," he promised, getting a smile from him at last. He really was going to miss him. Well why not? Tim becoming Robin and being there helped him escape Slade and ensured Bruce stayed sane after Jason's death. Without realizing it or doing anything terribly dangerous, he saved two lives; and those two lives would do anything to keep him smiling.

He looked over to Bruce, his heart already in his throat. Last time he parted from him, they were both angry. This time was so very different. The next time they saw each other, the law would be recognizing them as father and son. "So, hug?"

That earned him a raised eyebrow, joking very subtly. "I still don't understand your obsession with hugs."

"Says the man who gives really good ones." Not waiting for a response, Dick threw his arms around the large man and tightened his grip. Automatically Bruce laid his own around the young man's body and held him with equal vigor. He claimed not to understand the gesture, but his actions always said otherwise. Bruce was the best hugger in the world, when he let himself be. Even with a dislocated shoulder.

"Love you," came his soft whisper, inaudible to the others around them. Words rarely spoken in that house somehow reached his ear at last. Instead of verbally responding, the man just squeezed him a little tighter, silently returning the phrase. Bruce never was that great talking about feelings anyway.

"Don't work everyone too hard," the young man reminded him softly.

"No guarantees." They parted, smiling at each other. "Take care of yourself out there."

"Will do." Dick went over to Alfred, relieving him of his pack first and putting it on his back before surprising him with a hug. It took a second but the old man relaxed and wrapped his own arms around him, holding on to him gladly. "Be seeing you soon Alfred."

"Just remember to eat right," the butler reminded him as they parted. "A steady diet of pizza and fast food will not support a growing athletic body."

He laughed. "Okay, I'll make sure I get something healthy every once in a while." Seeing the man's face cringe was hilarious and everyone else had to agree. Letting go of him, Dick moved to put on his helmet and get on his bike at last. "Keep an eye on the news. I have a feeling what I'm up to won't be kept quiet."

"Looking forward to it." Bruce smiled slightly, making Dick grin again as he revved up the motor. He waved back to them before putting his hands on both handles and speeding out of the building. His smile became forced as he got further and further away from the place that had sheltered him for so many years and brought healing, family and hope together for him. It always hurt to leave home, but he had things to do, people to see.

It was time for him to take flight once again.