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"Whatever you're planning . . . It isn't going to work," Dick, in his Robin suit, hissed as he pulled against the metal bonds that kept his hands strapped to a table. He was seated on a chair that bound his legs as well. "Batman will come find me."
Robin didn't know where he was or who this man was. He wanted to panic, but the training engrained in him helped him to do otherwise. He surveyed his surroundings. Shabby ceiling and floor—they were probably in an abandoned building. The glint of a hidden camera caught his eye. He was being recorded or was going to be.
The villain that had captured him grinned. "That's what I'm hoping for!"
Robin furrowed his brows.
"You're probably very confused," the villain said, working on a strange contraption with many wires as he spoke. "I mean, my henchmen did knock you out, and now you've woken up in my liar without knowing my intentions, so I understand that. Allow me to explain."
The man took a part of his contraption and walked towards Robin. Robin thrashed under his restraints, but it was useless.
"My name is The Truth Master!" The villain announced. "I reveal the truths that my fans wish to know. You and Batman are so very mysterious, and it has my fans dying to know at least something about you! This right here—" he gestured to the device in his hand "—is an advanced lie detector that is ten times more accurate than the typical lie detector."
The Truth Master pulled off Robin's glove and wrapped the small invention around Robin's ring finger.
"But this isn't just a lie detector," the villain said, a dark edge to his voice. "It can also send electric currents your way that could very well be fatal. Definitely painful. Batman will come to save you, and he will be forced to hook onto one of these if he wants to see you live another day."
With that knowledge, the weight on Robin's finger began to feel much heavier. The wires that lead all the way to the main system next to Truth Master resembled a web, and Dick had gotten himself trapped like a bug. He wanted Batman to save him. He wanted Bruce.
"I will explain the rest when Batman arrives," Truth Master said. So they waited.
Ten anxiety-ridden minutes later, Batman furiously burst in through the door, Batarangs in hand.
Before Batman could strike, The Truth Master held up a controller with a red button and pointed at robin. "One click is all it takes to end him," he quickly warned. "Sit down, Batman, if you care for the boy."
Robin noticed the way Batman's nostrils flared with rage. He just hoped that it wasn't because of him. Batman took a seat on a chair across from Robin, and immediately after, metal bonds locked around his hands and legs.
Truth Master’s menacing demeanor dissipated at once. He clasped his hands happily. "Perfect! Thanks a ton, Batman!"
Batman nor Robin shared the enthusiasm, opting to glare at him beneath their masks instead.
"Alright, alright, I'll explain now," the villain said as he pulled off Batman's glove and attached a lie detector onto his finger. "I actually genuinely have no intention of killing either of you. That would be too much trouble."
Robin knew that he couldn't allow himself to believe that, but he felt tension leave his shoulders nonetheless.
"I'm a vlogger. I vlog. And I have a huge fanbase," Truth Master continued. "They ask me to find the truths about certain heroes or villains ! And you two are extremely popular demand. So here's how this is going to work. I ask you as many questions as I want. If you're truthful for all of them, the metal restraints will unlock and you'll be let free! But if you lie . . . It won't be pretty."
Robin felt uneasy just glancing at the lie detector on his finger. He looked at Batman for some kind of reassurance, and although the man's very presence was comforting, not being able to see his facial expression left Robin feeling distant from him. There was only the angry expression of the cowl and the movement of Bruce's lips. Luckily, Batman seemed to sense this and offered his partner a slow nod.
Robin understood that nod. It meant: It'll be okay. That was good enough for the 12-year-old hero.
"Do you guys understand the rules?" Truth Master asked.
"Yeah," Robin said, regaining his usual courage. Batman nodded, his other hand clenched slightly.
"Excellent," the villain said before skipping to the camera Robin had noticed earlier and turning it on. It faced Robin and Batman's table. Truth Master happily put his hands in the air. "Welcome to another vlog with yours truly! This is a very special video, because as you can see, I have the Dark Knight with the Boy Wonder at my lair!"
Robin rolled his eyes under the mask.
"Enough chit-chat, though. Let's get onto asking the juicy details that I know you all want to know!" Truth Master walked up to the table between Robin and Batman and picked up a piece of paper that he read off of. "First question, where did the names Batman and Robin come from? You have 10 seconds to answer!"
Out of nowhere, ticking music became to play.
"Uh—" Robin uttered.
"People are scared of bats," Batman answered easily.
Robin thought of a roundabout version of the truth. "Robins can fly and I like that!"
Ding!
"Well done, you both were truthful," Truth Master congratulated. "So Batman named himself after a bat because he liked that they were scary? Interesting. And Robin, you were probably that one kid who grew up wishing they could fly, huh?"
Robin shrugged.
"Cool, cool. Next, do you guys ever get jealous of other heroes? 10 seconds, now."
What an odd question. And embarrassing. But answering truthfully was better than dying.
". . . Yes," Robin murmured.
"No," Batman said stiffly.
Ding!
"Ooh," Truth Master sung. "Robin, why is that?"
Wait, what? He was allowed to ask why, too? So unfair!
"B-because . . . Uh . . ."
"Seven seconds!"
"Because I wish I had powers!" Robin blurted.
Ding!
"Aw, that's fair, little one," Truth Master said, and it made Robin's cheeks flush red with embarrassment from the condescending tone of his voice. Was this really going to he recorded and posted on the internet for everyone to see? Robin felt sick at the thought of no one taking him seriously anymore. After how long it had taken for him to earn some respect in this city . . .
"Next up: have you ever wished you had never become a hero?" Truth Master questioned.
Both vigilantes paused for a moment before simultaneously answering, "yes."
Ding!
Truth Master whistled. "Can't say I blame you. Some people must make the job miserable, eh?"
Yeah, people like you ," Robin wanted to say, but decided it was wisest to keep his mouth shut while attached to the lie detector.
Batman didn't say anything either. "Man, you two are a quiet pair today," muttered Truth Master. "Moving on. Ooh, things are getting juicy! Batman, do you see Robin as a son? And Robin, do you see Batman as a father?"
Immediately, they both said, "yes."
Ding!
"Aw," Truth Master cooed, making Robin bite the inside of his cheek. "You guys are adorable. Don't you viewers just love them?" He raised his brows after reading off the paper again. "Next one is: Batman, do you regret making Robin your partner?"
Robin's heart skipped a beat. He watched Batman closely, saw as he clenched his fists and grounded his teeth, felt the despair in his stomach as he realized what his mentor was going to respond with.
"Yes."
Ding!
It felt like an actual punch to the gut, but Robin tried his best to remain unfazed. Truth Master didn't help, instead rubbing it his face. "Ouch! That's got to hurt, right? Brutal, Batman. Brutal. Tell me in the comments what you viewers thought of that heartbreaking confession."
Tears burned the corner of Robin's eyes, and holding them back was enough to distract him from the thought that everyone would see what Batman had said when this was over and posted online. The crooks, the justice league, and . . . and it didn't matter anymore, did it? Batman would probably be firing him soon after this, anyway.
"Here, I'll give you guys a small break. Who's your favorite villain?"
Favorite villain ? What kind of question was that to ask to two heroes ? Robin didn't particularly like any villains, maybe save for Ivy, who he thought was pretty and kind of cool.
". . . Poison Ivy?"
Batman mumbled something under his breath.
"Huh? Say again, Batman?" Truth Master requested.
"I said CATWOMAN!" Batman roared, jolting forward only to be held back by his restraints.
Ding!
"Woah! Woah, calm down, big guy," Truth Master urged. He stepped away nervously, flickering his gaze from Batman to the camera. "Great, I’ll need to edit that out. There's only one more question left, you know. The most asked question in my comments, and I bet you know what that is."
Oh NO. Their identities . They had no choice but to answer with the truth, and it was Robin's fault they were even in this situation. He felt overwhelmed with fear and guilt, and the sickening thought circling his mind over and over again was: no wonder Batman regretted making him Robin.
"Last question, everyone! Drum roll, please!" Truth Master hollered dramatically. After a moment of suspense, he asked, "Who is your favorite hero?"
Robin didn't even get a moment to comprehend the question—to feel the wave of relief and confusion that it wasn't about their identities—because Batman, without thinking twice, answered with, "Robin."
Robin couldn't mask his surprise this time. He gasped sharply, staring intensely at Batman like he might vanish if he looked away for a second, trying to scrutinize the man's face beneath that angry cowl—to see if he truly meant what he had just said.
Either Batman had a death wish or he really thought Robin was his favorite hero. But how could someone go from regretting that he was his partner to making him their favorite hero?
"Did you hear that, guys?" Truth Master exclaimed to his camera, jumping up and down like a child. "Batman just revealed some much anticipated news! And what about you, Robin?"
Robin flinched. He had almost forgotten that he needed to answer, too.
His favorite hero? Well, that was someone who Robin felt represented the ideal hero. "Superman."
Ding!
With a metallic click, Robin and Batman's restraints unlocked.
Truth Master didn't even have enough time to transition from a grin to an expression of terror when Batman tackled him. Powerful punches that had been held back for far too long struck the villain in the face repeatedly, leaving the man whimpering until he went unconscious. Batman didn't stop—he couldn't seem to. Robin, who had been paralyzed by too many emotions all at once snapped into sense and ran up to Batman.
"Batman! Batman, stop! He's unconscious; you'll kill him!" Robin yelled, putting his hands on Batman's hunched form.
Batman conceded, but he turned his head looked at Robin, and the remnants of anger were still prevalent on his face, his breath labored. Robin subconsciously took a step back, and then another, a primal part of him scared that maybe . . . maybe Batman was mad at him—
"Robin . . ." Batman whispered, falling to his knees. Any rage that had been in his body a second earlier had dispersed, leaving a defeated, shaken man in its wake. "Oh, Dick. C'mere."
Robin—Dick—saw that as permission to let the dam loose. He whimpered and sniffled as he dropped to the floor and clung onto Bruce. The man embraced him in return, pulling him impossibly closer.
For a while, they didn't say anything at all. Dick didn't know how long they were there like that, and he didn't care. He let Bruce run his hands through his hair and relished in the comfort of the man's tenderness. Dick knew that Bruce was waiting for Dick to be the first one to pull away, and that he would probably stay there on the floor all night if that was what Dick wanted. The gesture was so endearing that it made a firework of warmth go off in Dick's heart.
Although Dick wouldn't have minded remaining there with Bruce for longer, the thought of the unconscious villain lying on the ground just a few feet away from them was starting the make him uncomfortable. The boy finally gathered the strength to pull away.
Bruce loosened his hold on him. "How are you doing?"
Dick rubbed at his dried tear-stained cheeks. "I'm fine now. How about you?"
"I'm good, kiddo," Bruce said softly, cracking the faintest smile.
"So, um . . ." Dick began. Talking about this felt like poking at a fresh wound, but it had to be done. He ran his fingers over his 'R' insignia. "About Robin . . . Can I still . . . Can I still be it?"
Bruce stared at Dick, those cold eyes of the cowl glaring at him again, and as anticipated, it felt like he was wordlessly saying: why would you even ask me that? But then, Bruce pulled off the cowl, and his eyes were in fact saying: why would you even ask me that, but they were filled with sorrow.
"Of course, Dick," Bruce said earnestly. "I never planned on taking it away."
Dick slowly took off his damp domino mask. It made him feel vulnerable and too transparent, but if it helped Bruce to connect with Dick as well as he could connect with Bruce after he had taken off his cowl, then it was completely worth it.
"It's just that," Dick said, sighing and fiddling with his mask, "I thought that when you said yes to regretting making me your partner, it meant that you wanted to fire me. I mean, I'm the reason all of this even happened."
Bruce shook his head furiously. "No, Dick. No. It's not your fault. It's that psycho's fault for kidnapping you and threatening to kill you unless you complied. And . . . Oh, Dick. When I agreed to that part about regretting making you my partner it wasn't because I blamed you for anything. It was my own selfish guilt."
Dick cocked his head to the side, confused.
"Dick, don't you realize how precious you are to me?" Bruce asked, his voice laced with sentimentality, and his eyes glazed. Dick was too stunned by the question to answer, but he felt his own eyes water. "When you're out there as Robin, I see an absolutely incredible individual who is capable of filling the hearts of everyone he meets with love and hope. Someone who is the true embodiment of a hero. But . . . I also see a boy—a child. A child who is too precious to be tarnished by the world. And sometimes I'm overwhelmed with worry that you might be hurt, and if you're hurt, it's my fault because I'm the one who allowed you to be in that situation in the first place. And sometimes there's too much guilt and fear to bear. So much that I find myself wishing I had never let you go out as Robin, just so that I don't ever have to worry about my little boy getting hurt for people who don't deserve you."
Ah, Bruce. The big softie.
Dick gave Bruce a trembling smile and held his hand. "But, Bruce . . . It's not your fault. It's whatever psycho's fault for hurting me, remember? And Gotham is never safe. Even if I never go out as a hero, they'll be someone trying to hurt me. At least this way I can protect myself and others."
Bruce shook his head the smallest bit. "Using my own words against me?"
Dick playfully stuck his tongue out.
"You're right to a certain degree," Bruce mused. "But . . . Well, it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you're safe and with me and," he exhaled. "You know I love you, right?"
Dick nodded. "I know. I love you, too."
Bruce smiled, so warm and caring that Dick thought that it should be put in a museum. Something so unfortunately rare and genuine deserved to be seen by everyone.
"You know, B, the only reason Superman is my favorite hero is because I see Batman too much more as my dad than a hero," Dick revealed.
Bruce sharply inhaled before pulling Dick in for another hug.
"Aaaaand maybe because Superman has totally epic powers."
Bruce pulled back. "Oh, you're so going to pay for that," he said before making Dick suffer with tickles. Afterwards, they sent the villain to jail, deleted the camera footage, and enjoyed a much needed night of sleep together at the manor.
Maybe the truth wasn't so bad after all.