Chapter Text
Wayne Manor Estate
Tim crept through the Wayne Estate mansion, heading to the secret Batcave located directly beneath the massive mansion. Most of the lights had been switched off, leaving the house in near-complete darkness. The dim light of the moon lit up the inside through the windows, the only light. Tim had nearly tripped over several things already, cringing so hard. He didn’t want Alfred or Bruce to know he was here, creeping about. Alfred expected him to be patrolling with Bruce, and Bruce probably expected him to stay in bed for the night after this morning’s events. So little did they know that he was right outside the secret entrance to the Batcave. There was more than one entrance luckily, due to in case someone broke in (which seemed very unlikely). This was Tim’s favourite way to enter; it was the most secret way, and he liked to sneak up on Bruce to test his skills. He’d done it successfully only two times, until Bruce figured out his tricks and turned it around, scaring the life out of Tim one time. But, it had been fun. But this time it wasn’t to scare him. He was sneaking in to get his suit, then sneaking in back the way he came. Simple as that.
He kneeled down and tapped the bottom of the corner of a wall, and a small opening appeared. Tim wormed his way through, and once he entered the opening slid shut. He wormed his way through the small tunnel, laying on his stomach. The roof was too low to crawl on his knees, so this was the only other way in. He wondered why Bruce had bothered making such a small way to get in when the man himself could never fit through here. Unless…unless he’d made it specifically for someone. Possibly for the Robin before himself, Jason Todd. That seemed more likely. Those two sounded like they’d gotten along way better than he and Bruce did now. He sighed and continued to worm his way through, ridding himself of the disturbing thoughts. At last he arrived at the Batcave opening. He gently removed the vault entrance, then peered down inside. He never could quite get over how amazing the cave was.
Highly-advanced Computers were set to the side up against a wall near a massive desk, lots of notes spread out all over the desk. Several suits of Batman’s were hung on the wall, just in case he needed spares (well, that was what Tim thought, but who knows why he had them), and a large column stood beside it, reaching into the high ceiling above. And the Batmobile in all its glory parked nearly beneath Tim, but not quite. Bruce had decided to move it as he realised that Tim dropped right from the vaults nearly every day. He didn’t want his glory car smashed, and who could blame him? Tim sure couldn’t. Tim located his own small desk, much smaller than Bruce’s, but not far off from his either. And it was no less cleaner than Bruce’s either, if not a little more messier with notes. Then his eyes landed on the prize. His suit. It was hung on the wall next to his desk, its red and green colours standing out in the lit up grey-black room. Steadying his breathing, he checked for any signs of Bruce. But, strangely enough, there were none. Huh. That’s weird. Bruce usually would not leave quite yet, he liked to do things in the Batcave for a little before heading out. Don’t ask him what things, how would he know? After making quardiple sure that Bruce was not here, he leaped down into the Batcave, landing neatly in a crouch. He looked around quickly, making sure he was alone. Then he slowly crept over to his suit, grabbing it off the wall. Yes! I got it. Mission accomplished, Tim turned and bumped straight into a hulking black and grey figure. Oh shoot–
Tim looked up into the eyes of Batman. He was fully suited up, his black cape hanging loose from his shoulders. His mask looked as terrifying as ever, the long ear-like shape on his head sticking up to create bat-like ears. Tim took a step back, hanging his head. No one spoke for a long moment. Tim couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “I’m sorry.”
Batman cocked his head. “What for, Tim?”
“For…for what I said earlier. In the car. I said you weren’t my father.” There was a long silence again. Tim hated long silences. Seeing that Batman wouldn’t say anything, he continued in a rush, “I shouldn’t have said that. It was–I was rude. I know you want the best for me and everything, but sometimes I just get so worked up and–ugh! – I just snap. I know you’re trying your hardest to make me feel accepted here, but I don’t think I’m just ready yet to let go of my father.”
Tim could not tell what Batman was thinking beneath that mask. The only part of the face that he could see remained completely neutral. He ducked his head again, gripping his suit tightly. He shouldn’t have said all that. It just was the first thing that came to his mind, and, yeah, it was the truth, but what if Batman didn’t take him seriously enough and stripped him of the title Robin and–
He was enveloped in a big black hug. Tim stiffened, confused and more than a bit surprised. But he let himself sink into the embrace, leaning his head against Batman’s chest.
“Tim,” Batman said after a long moment of silence, “none of this is your fault. I didn’t know what you were going through–though I had a slight idea–and I should have gone easier on you. And you're right. I shouldn’t have rushed becoming a father to you. I need to give you time, I’ve realised. I am sorry.”
Tim nodded, pulling away. He gripped his costume tightly, holding back the unwanted heavy emotion welling up inside him. He was not good at these kinds of talks.
“But I must press one matter: about the Joker?” Batman stared down at Tim, a questioning tilt of his head.
“I…I’m not ready for that talk yet,” Tim murmured.
Batman studied him silently for a moment, then gave a single nod. “Very well. Suit up, Robin. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
The night was rather cold tonight, and the moon full, shining its light down on Gotham city, giving it light. The city itself was nearly empty; citizens began heading home from late-night shifts and some heading out for late-night dinners. There was a breeze in the air, a cold one. But that did not shake off the two night-heroes as they overlooked the city, standing atop a tall building. Not a single cry pierced the air, leaving the city with a peaceful aura. But both heroes knew that it would not stay like that for long, for in Gotham, no crime can stay hidden.
Robin shivered at the sudden gust of wind, and hunched his shoulders. Snow on the way. He was crouched to peer down at the city streets where he could spot any crime from his position. Another cold breeze blew past him, ruffling his hair. He sighed, literally begging for a burglary already. He needed to move . Or he was going to freeze to death. He shot a quick look at his partner, who was in his ominous black bat suit. He was staring down at something, some type of thing that Robin wouldn’t bother finding out. He seemed completely content, not even shivering as another breeze swept through. Lucky for him, he probably could fit so many heat packs underneath that suit that he’d never even feel a thing if he fell in the arctic ocean. But not lucky for his partner, who did not have a single piece of clothing keeping him warm. Yep, all he had was some skin-tight pants and a red vest like top that was his only armour. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much use as armour. Or warmth for that matter.
“You’re restless.” Robin looked up at Batman, but his eyes had not strayed from the device. Robin sighed.
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who can fit ten heat packs underneath my suit…” Robin rubbed his hands. “Surely there’s something happening down there? I feel like my fingers might freeze off…”
“Looks like you won’t have to wait long.” Batman hid his device, slipping it behind his cape. “We’ve got a sighting of a robbery, it looks like. Not far from here. The docks.”
“Finally…” Robin stood, drawing out his grappling gun. He leapt off the building following Batman, sticking close to him as he swung through the streets of Gotham. He tugged sharply at a corner, sending him swinging sharply around it. As soon as he rounded the corner, he noticed eight figures down below in an alleyway. He quickly identified the victims and the attackers within a split second, taking in every detail around him.
They appeared to be moving large containers onto a ship docked nearby, with several already on board. The thieves themselves didn’t look like much. Strong, but poorly organised. At first look, they looked like any ordinary gang of thieves, but as Robin drew closer, landing atop a large shipping container and crouching low beside Batman, he noticed their faces looked different. He knew that thieves wore masks to hide their identity, much like he concealed his own, however he recognised the masks, and some of it wasn’t even masks; it looked to be painted onto their faces, a familiar white, with the cruel twisted red slashed across it around their mouths. He found himself freezing solid beside Batman, the earlier cold forgotten as a new terror settled into his bones.
It was the Joker’s goons.
Now ordinarily, this wouldn’t provide a problem for him, and it was only eight men; he and Batman could easily take them, quick and easy. But not long ago, they’d had a run in with the Joker, and dare he say it, it had shaken him up quite a bit. The Joker had a way to play with the minds of his opponents, his twisted heart full of malice and no mercy. He didn’t even want to think about it as he stared down at the unaware thieves, the fear creeping to his heart. Every time his thoughts would stray down that path, he’d see that cruel, psychotic smile stretched wide into a cackling menace.
He was jolted out of his thoughts as he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and he flinched slightly. “Focus on the threat, not the past, Robin.”
Robin nodded jerkily, taking in a deep gulp of air. “Yes sir.”
There was a long silence from the man beside him, but he could feel his eyes on him. “You ready to go down there?”
“Yeah,” Robin replied quickly, trying to convince himself as much as Batman.
“You can stay –”
“No! I can do this.” Without another word he leapt off the side of the shipping container, landing in a silent crouch on the hard ground. He drew his bow staff, beginning to slowly make his way through the various shipping containers. The earlier forgotten cold was beginning to seep in once more, and he found himself fighting against shivering. Bloody hell it’s cold…
He rounded the side of a container, then quickly took cover back behind it as he saw a couple of the goons close by, almost within striking distance. He peered around the edge, analysing the situation. He could take them; he knew it. He stepped out from behind the container and brought up his bow staff silently, then cracked it down hard on the closest thief’s head. They instantly crumbled to the ground, and the other flung their head around to look at the newcomer, but was met with a staff to the face. They fell beside their opponent, neither moving. Robin stepped over them, making a quick dart to the nearest shipping container. He saw a figure move out of the corner of his eye as he hid behind the container, and saw Batman leap on top of a nearby crate. He was focused on the goons below, clearly thinking of a plan to take them down silently and quickly. There could be more goons around; neither of them wanted to alert more.
Robin peered around the side of the container, and sucked in a sharp breath. A few more goons had joined in loading the goods, and half of them were standing guard with loaded guns in their hands. He took in a deep breath, glancing up at Batman, waiting for any signal, but was left frustrated to see that he had vanished. He glanced around, finally noticing him a little further away atop another crate, skirting the border of the gang of thieves, and Robin realised he was attempting to board the boat. Robin gripped his bow staff tight, coming to a decision. Batman would need a distraction. He wouldn’t be able to board the ship without attracting some sort of attention, surely. So he’d pull away the guards, allowing a clear path to the boat.
He slipped out of his hiding spot from behind the shipping container and slammed the end of his staff into the ground, hard, and it made a loud echo in the quiet of the docks. Every head turned his way, and for once he began to wonder if this was a good idea. Well, it was too late now. He leant on his staff, feigning confidence. “You should know, this is all highly illegal.”
The goons didn’t waste time in raising their guns at him, and even quicker to fire rapid shots at him. He’d seen it coming; he ducked the first few, then pushed off the ground into a twisting flip, landing in a crouch to avoid the other rush of bullets. He turned and leapt up to pull himself up onto the container behind him, the gunfire forcing him into a roll and landing on the other side, catching himself to land on his feet with his bow staff. The bullets hammered into the shipping container, and he realised then what he’d gotten himself into. Ah Dammit, I’m pinned…
There had to be a way out. He could make a dash from where he’d come from before, where there was more cover than here. He made to peer around the corner, but instantly pulled himself back as a bullet whizzed past his face, narrowly missing him. He took in a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax slightly. He could make it. He had to keep them diverted away from Batman. He gripped his bow staff hard, then leapt forward, bursting into a sprint. As soon as he left the cover of the container, he dove into a roll, ducking the blaze of bullets and rolling back onto his feet as he made a mad dash to the crate ahead of him. Just as the thought that he’d make it crossed his mind, he felt an abrupt pain explode in his right arm, and he staggered as he ran, catching himself with his staff as he leapt for the cover of the container. He landed in a mess on the ground behind it, clutching his arm and groaning as the pain spread throughout his arm. This wasn’t part of the plan…
“Find Batman! If the little rat’s here, then he’s sure to be lurking ‘round somewhere.” The words of a goon sent shivers down Robin’s spine, and he forced himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the back of the crate as he sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t let them discover Batman’s position; they’d surely overwhelm him. He trusted Batman, he really did, but from the sound of the gunfire, he could only guess that more reinforcements had arrived for the thieves. He needed to move, and now. I’m coming, Batman… He heaved himself to his feet, clutching his arm as he grimaced. He clutched at his bow staff, and stepped out from behind the cover of the crate, the order from the goons allowing a short break in the gunfire.
“Hey!” He waved at them with his left arm, spinning his bow staff in his hand. “Can’t a guy work alone?” The moment the words left his mouth he was off running again as the gunfire returned almost instantly, and he found himself winding through the crates as the sounds of bullets slamming into containers sounded from all sides. His arm was screaming in protest with each movement he gave it, and he gritted his teeth as he skidded around a corner. Taking another corner, he was forced to come to an abrupt halt as a group of three goons blocked his path. He turned to take the left, but he found himself taking a few steps back as he saw more guns pointed at his face down that direction. He spared a glance behind him and saw the similar thing happening, and for the first time since he’d leapt down into the docks, he felt panic begin to slowly creep up into his heart.
Each of the goons wore identical expressions of a frozen laugh, the red a stark contrast around their maniacal smile from the pale white of their mask. Though no laughter came from the goons, Robin could swear he could hear it, crowding around him and overwhelming his senses. His thoughts flashed back to the most recent mission, where everything had gone so horribly wrong, and he found himself in utter despair. He was gripping his staff so tightly his hands hurt, sending extra waves of pain up his arm. His gaze darted hopelessly at the slowly approaching goons, and his hands began to shake.
I’m sorry Batman…
His head whipped around as he heard a loud clang as a goon was sent flying up, only to land brutally back down onto the hard ground, slamming into the side of one of the containers as he did so. He looked up as he saw a thin wire retreating into the darkness from atop a container, only for it to come striking back down and strike at another goon, wrapping around his neck and sending him flying into another goon. The wire vanished once more and a large, dark shadow seemed to float down from the container, landing atop the goons and covering them in darkness. The goons instantly panicked around him, shuffling in their positions, raising their guns at their new enemy. Robin, slipping into automatic, took the opportunity to lash out at the three frozen goons on his left, taking one out with a hit to the head with his bow staff. Fear activating his adrenaline, he swung into another attack, slamming his elbow into the stomach of another, then bringing up his staff to slam the end of it into the side of the third goon’s head. He fell to the ground beside the first, and Robin took the opportunity to send a low roundhouse kick to the doubled over remaining goon, sending them tumbling to the floor beside the others. He swung around, and let out a strangled groan under his breath as his arm screamed in protest from the sudden movement from it. He launched himself at the remaining goons he’d seen earlier, but found them all scattered around on the floor, completely motionless. Panting, he looked up at his saviour, and almost shied under the gaze of Batman staring down at him with disapproval.
“You jeopardised the mission.” His voice was low, his gaze cold.
“You were going to get caught!” Robin argued, clutching his arm. He refused to get lectured for thinking of his safety.
“I knew what I was doing,” he hissed. “You put not only me, but yourself in danger, and we might never figure out the purpose of them being here because of your irresponsible actions.”
“It might help a little if you shared what you were doing,” Robin hissed back, the pain in his arm fueling his stubbornness. “You can’t expect me to just know what you’re doing and sit by when you’re in danger!”
“You need to learn to trust. If you don’t, I can’t see you fit to fight by my side.”
Robin took a step back, shock washing over him and momentarily blocking out the pain in his arm. I can’t see you fit to fight by my side. The words rang in his head, over and over, sending shivers running down his spine. Surely he didn’t mean it. He’d had no intention to harm him, but somehow he’d messed it all up, in Batman’s eyes. Surely he had earned his place by his side! He’d worked tirelessly night and day to solve cases and fight off dangerous gangs in night patrol; Batman didn’t mean it, did he? …Did he?
A loud horn broke through Robin’s thoughts, and his eyes widened in horror as he realised it was the sound of the boat leaving. Batman didn’t waste a moment in running off in the direction of it, and Robin found himself following close behind. They rushed out from the maze of containers and were met with the sight of an empty dock, the ship pulling away into the distance. Robin’s heart dropped in dread, and he dared not meet Batman’s gaze as the vigilante swivelled around to face him.
“That,” he growled, “is the consequence of your actions.” Robin shrank under his gaze, gripping his arm as his bow staff hung limply in his right hand. “Go home and don’t even consider coming back until you’ve understood what you’ve done here tonight. Consider yourself cancelled from this case.”
This prompted Robin to look up at him, a new-found desperateness coming over him. “But I can –”
“No.” Batman turned away from him, pulling out a device from his belt and beginning to walk away from him. “You’ve done enough.”
Robin watched him go, his heart sinking with each step the older vigilante took away from him. The ache in his arm was returning full force now, and he realised he’d have to get it patched up someplace else tonight, other than the Batcave. There would be no assistance from Alfred tonight; no reassuring and comforting words from the old butler to help through this situation. He’d have to deal with this himself.
Just like he was going to deal with this case.