Grayson and Raleigh
The evening quieted a little, and Dick was relieved to get some quiet, stepping out of the ballroom into the hallway. A moment later, Leslie Thompkins, who'd been there for Bruce when his parents died and who still run the clinic right around from where he himself had been killed, walked over to him. Her coat was draped over her clasped hands, the elderly woman's strong jaw as unwavering as it had always been. Her eyes were red too.
His were still completely dry. Tears didn't even enter the picture. He had been frozen all day, a rock in the water. Leslie didn't ask, she simply opened her arms and hugged him. He let her, whispering a thank you, and she stepped back, looking at him as if she recognized all too well the brave face he was putting on. He was not the first to show her it. "Tell Cass she can come home any time," Leslie said quietly.
He nodded. "Tim did see her the other day. She... pushes herself."
Leslie laughed, a foreign sound in the ancient halls of Wayne Manor these days. "You all do, Richard. All of you."
"I'll protect her."
Leslie nodded, to him and to herself. "Of course. Of course. And you call me if you need anything." Her voice was stern, commanding. Very much a matriarch's. Then she left, and he sipped at the water in his glass. When things got a little quieter, he'd be leaving the party himself, going back into the city as Nightwing.