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| - Gotham City One of the things Bruce Wayne had vowed to do when he became the Batman, was to prevent any more children from losing their parents. He already failed to do that with young Dick Grayson, but he made up for it by taking him in, loving him as if he were his own flesh and blood son, and further training him to become Robin, The Boy Wonder. Now he was failing once again when a string of murders were occurring. The only witnesses were small children who said that their "friend", a clown, had killed their parents. After doing much detective work and investigation, all fingers were pointed towards their first and only suspect: The Joker. Batman and Robin had spent a good portion of their evening chasing after the murderous psychopath—whom that same evening Joker decided that along with murdering a child's parents would also steal the family's important documents, which now caused the crime fighting pair to follow him into a closed carnival that had been visiting Gotham that week. Robin, just for a moment, felt a little hesitant to come along with his mentor. Carnivals, circuses, and anything else of the sort brought many happy, yet sad, memories of his old days as a Flying Grayson. It had been nearly four years since the tragic incident, but the memories still remained fresh in his mind. Those were the days. But he then shook the thoughts out of his mind—he couldn't let something as petty as old memories stop him from doing his job. The children of the parents the Joker had murdered needed justice—just as he and his mentor did at an earlier point in their lives. The Dynamic Duo managed to follow the purple-suited mad man into the haunted house. Batman and Robin—as Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson had visited the carnival earlier that day to find any clues, so they somewhat knew what to expect inside the popular attraction. "Stay close, Robin. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Batman muttered to his young protégé before stepping inside. "The Joker can be unpredictable." "Right." Robin responded. With batarangs in hand, the duo entered the fun house. As they entered, the annoying calliope music started playing softly in the background and Joker's maniacal laughter echoed softly through the walls. It was almost completely dark save for the bright neon colored lights that bordered the walls and entrances of the maze. They quietly and stealthily paced the halls of the house when suddenly one of the windows displaying a jar of fake dismembered limbs turned on in front of them, making them jump a little. "Looks like he found the controls." Robin commented. "Right you are, Bird Wonder!" an all-too-familiar voice cackled through the walls and the ceiling. "And you're never going to find me!" Joker said in a sing-song tone. "Do you think you can hack into the control system?" Batman calmly asked. "I know I can." Robin confidently answered. "The only problem is that I don't see a single outlet on the walls or anything." As he finished explaining the predicament, they both turned a corner in the maze and saw a wide entrance bordered with the neon colored lights that held a small pipe organ that spewed steam through the slits on the inside. "There's probably an outlet to connect my computer behind that organ." Robin thought aloud and immediately sprinted into the room. Batman instantaneously sprung out his hand to hold back his anxious sidekick, but was a little too late to stop him. "Robin, wai—" As soon as Robin entered the room, two doors quickly slid out of the walls and shut the room dividing the partners. "Robin!" Batman called out again as he banged the door. "Batman!" Robin called out as he too tried to pry to doors open. Joker then cackled once again into the intercom system. "What is this?!" he giggled gleefully. "I managed to break up the Dynamic Duo? This is the best day ever!" With a frustrated grunt Batman called to Robin on the other side of the doors. "Stay there! Try to hack into the system before he tries to do anything else. I'm going to find you." He instructed. "Alright!" Robin responded and immediately ran towards the organ. For now, it was just him, the pipe organ, and the still bothersome yet nostalgic calliope music. Robin was sure that he and Batman would reunite again. They were trapped in maze-like house, so if he stayed where he was Batman was surely bound to find the right path. Plus, he knew that Bruce kept a tracking device on his costume. He was over protective like that. In this case it was perfectly acceptable, for all he knew the Joker could be watching them through the security cameras or even making his way down the hall to stab him in the back. Robin was about to make an attempt to move the organ until he caught something at the corner of his eye. In one of the brass pipes, not only was steam coming out of the openings as music played, but also a piece of paper was flitting excitedly from one of them. He reached a hand out toward the pipe, but even through his gloves he felt the sudden burn of the steam. "Ah!" he quietly cried as he pulled back his hand. Feeling slightly annoyed, he scrunched his face, rubbed his fingers for a moment and quickly pulled the paper out of the pipe. He looked down at the paper, which had pulled folded neatly then messily shoved in the slit. He opened the paper and was surprised to see one of the documents, a bank note, which Joker had stolen from one of the families. "It's information on their bank account." He said to himself. Folded inside that same document, was a smaller folded sheet of paper signed "J" on the outside. Before he could unfold the other paper, he heard a quiet rustling coming from down the hall. Robin stepped back and prepared himself to fight, if necessary. The rustling became louder as it approached him. Robin took out his staff, prepared a stance and even summoned the best bat glare that he could conjure up. He then noticed that the music had stopped playing. Lurking from the shadows, he heard the footsteps get louder with every pace, but soon heard a familiar voice speak to him. "Stand down. It's me." Oh thank god, it's Batman. Robin relaxed his posture and soon Batman appeared into view. "Did you hack into the controls?" the older man asked. "No." "I was afraid of that." Batman sighed. "The Joker is either still hiding in the control room or he might be coming down to where we are since the music stopped playing." He then looked down and noticed that paper's in Robin's hand. "What is that?" "It's one of the documents Joker stole from that family. I found it shoved into one of the pipes in the organ. I was about to take a look at this one." Robin replied as he handed the papers to him. "That one is obviously from him." Batman slowly opened the small paper and almost immediately at the moment he laid his eyes on the paper, they widened in shock. "GET DOWN!" he yelled. Immediately following orders, with a little help from Batman who practically dragged him down to the ground, they both missed the throwing knives that seemed to come out of nowhere. "What the heck was that?!" Robin cried and then noticed the note that Batman dropped. It said "WATCH OUT" Suddenly Joker's laughter was heard on the intercom system once again as well as the same carnie music played once again. "Did I scare the Bird Boy?" he said. "Good thing Daddy Bats is there to comfort you!" he continued with a laugh. "This is irritating." The boy commented as he stood up. "At this point it would just be better to get to the control room now and stop him there before he attempts anything else." "Alright, let's go." "I'll go alone." Batman immediately said before the thirteen-year-old took another step forward. Ugh, not this again! Robin raised an eyebrow and looked disapprovingly at his mentor. "What? Why?" "You know why." He simply stated. "I won't argue with you about this. Besides, I need you to stay behind and see if you can find more of those documents." With that, Batman didn't bother to wait for a response and disappeared once again into the shadows. Alright, go ahead and vanish again, Robin thought bitterly. It's one of the things you do best. He turned his attention towards the organ and its metal pipes. With his handy utility belt, he took out what seemed to be a handheld buzz saw and started cutting the pipes. He started with the one where he found the bank note and Joker's message. As soon as he managed to completely cut off the first pipe—all the lights went out. The neon colors no longer bordered the walls and the entrances of the maze. Even the music stopped playing again. The pipe fell with a loud and echoed clang to the ground. Damn, this could either be a good thing or a bad thing. He quickly took out a flashlight and lighted up the room. He pressed a finger into his ear and talked into the communication link. "Batman." He said. No answer. "Robin to Batman! Acknowledge! What's going on?" he said a little louder. There was still no answer. Oh no, this is bad. His heartbeat was suddenly a little more rapid than it already was. He tried to communicate again. "Batman!" Bruce! Answer me! "Batman ain't gonna answer, kid." A sudden deep and unfamiliar voice said behind him. Robin gasped and quickly turned to see who it was, but it was a little too late. As soon as he turned, he felt a sudden strike of pain near his head. Everything quickly turned black. One second he was about to give the beating of a lifetime to the Joker right in the face, the next second everything goes black, then in the third second it felt like he was having the worst hangover in the world. Batman struggled to open his eyes under his cowl—under the cowl? That was when he started remembering everything. Came to stop the Joker…the murders…carnival…carnival…ROBIN! He immediately snapped his eyes open and noticed that he could not see a thing. He was in a dark room and Robin was possibly in there with him. He made an attempt to stick a finger into the com link but realized…he couldn't. After waking up a little more he had observed that he was in a standing position with his hands manacled to the wall spread above his head and both feet on the ground. He heard a quiet, yet familiar groan, not far from him. In fact, it sounded like it was coming from right across from him. "Robin." He called out quietly. The groan grew a little louder. Thank god, it's him. "Robin." He called out again. "Are you alright?" His young protégé continued groaning—he must have been hit hard—but he did manage to form somewhat of a sentence. "I've been better." He slurred. "Where are we?" "There is a possibility that we're not at the carnival anymore." "Great." Robin mumbled, but in a way that Batman could not tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "You have a plan on getting us out of this one?" he asked, speaking a little more clearly now. At the moment he finished speaking, the lights instantaneously turned on causing a disgusted reaction from the duo due to the intense transition from complete darkness to extreme brightness. Batman noticed that his protégé was also manacled to the wall in the same position that he was, but because of his shorter stature, his whole body was lifted from the floor. "Ugh, I think I liked it better when the lights were off." The young one said. "Is that so, Boy Blunder?" an amused voice said. Both Batman and Robin turned their heads to see the Joker with his usual trademark crazed grin plastered on his face leaning against the doorway. He began to stride into the room while swinging a hooked cane on his wrist. "I kinda like the sunshine!" he cheered. "It puts a smile on my face!" he said which was then followed by his maniacal laughter. "What doesn't?" Robin commented. "Robin." Batman said in a warning tone. That's enough with the wise cracks, Dick. "Let the boy speak, batsy!" Joker said as he continued twirled the cane. He then walked up closer to Batman's face, the smile never leaving. "You know, I've always enjoyed your little brat's conversation more than yours," he began as he walked back to Robin, "at least he knows how to tell a joke!" he finished as he unexpectedly yet playfully pinched the Boy Wonder's cheeks. The pinch was a little harder than expected—the boy winced a little. That gesture made the Dark Knight scowl at the mad man. It was a glare that said: Quit touching my kid! Joker noticed his reaction and let go of Robin's cheek. "Can't the Bird Boy have a little fun with his Uncle Joker?" he teased. "You are so clingy to your kid!" Batman still said nothing and continued glaring at him. Little did everyone in the room know—except maybe perhaps Robin—he had managed to get the lock pick in his glove to come out. All he needed to do now was find the key hole and get himself out before he or his partner got hurt. Joker stood straight and started tapping his fingers annoyingly on his cane. "I've got an idea!" he smiled, then hung the hook on wrist and brought up his hands to clap. The clap summoned one Joker's oversized henchmen into the room where he stood at the entrance. "Take the little birdy to the other room, I would like to spend some time with him later." "Say what?" Robin's eyes widened as the big thug approached him. Damn it. Batman still needed more time to get himself out. At that moment, all that he could hope for was that Robin could buy him more time to get free. The big guy smirked at the boy. He held a small key in his hands—obviously the key that would unlock the manacles that held the dynamic duo's wrists to the wall. When he was close enough, Robin sneered and immediately lifted his free legs and kicked the man hard in the center of his chest, slamming him into the wall on the other side of the room. The key that he held in his hand fell onto the ground just a few feet away from the boy. Batman couldn't help but smirk with pride. That's one way of buying time. Then he finally heard the click. And that's all the time that I needed. Joker looked at his unconscious henchman then back to Robin, but this time with an angry expression on his face. "You're going to pay for that, Bat Brat!" he threatened as he hooked the cane around Robin's neck pulling his face closer to his. "Ow!" he grunted. "And you're going to pay for doing that." The crazed clown turned around and saw the Caped Crusader standing in front of him…free. "Now, how did you—" but before he could finish his sentence, Batman grabbed Joker's wrist tightly, making him let go of the cane, then proceeded to give the much deserved introduction of his fist to the clown's face—knocking him into oblivion almost immediately. Batman knelt to the ground to grab the key, he removed the cane that was carelessly dangling around Robin's neck, and then proceeded to unlock the manacles. "Are you alright?" he asked as Robin landed on his feet, thought he failed to hide the slight stumble that followed. The young one rubbed the back of his neck and looked up to his mentor who had placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "He is particularly touchy today." He answered. "But yeah, I'm good." "Good." Batman responded. "Tie them, I'm going to check if there's anything else to worry about out there." Robin nodded. "Yes, sir." Once he concluded that it was safe enough to leave Robin alone with the out cold criminals, Batman stepped out the door into a hallway. There wasn't anyone guarding the entry. It was probably only the guy who Dick kicked square in the chest. He thought. But that's not very likely. There didn't seem to be anymore doors in the hall. This building doesn't seem familiar to me. "Do you want me to stay here and watch them or something?" he heard Robin speak to him from behind. He took a look at his handiwork in tying up both the Joker and the henchman. No one could get out of that. He then thought about Robin's recent hit on the head. He still seemed a little wobbly. "Probably best you stay with me. I don't want you risking running into another thug by yourself. I think that hit on your head was a little harder than we think it was." The young one raised an eyebrow. "But I told you that I feel fine," he said "not that I mind coming along with you, bit still. I'm ok." "Just a precaution," He simply said. "Stay close." Robin just looked up at him and shrugged. "Alright" he said and stepped forward to walk ahead of Batman. They spent a while walking around the practically empty building. They had not bumped into anyone. The dark halls only echoed the sound of their heels clicking against the floor. "This building is practically empty" Robin commented. "Maybe now we should go back and get Joker and Chuckles and drop them off at the station. The other documents he stole are still probably back at the carnival." Batman still wasn't ready to give up yet…but he had a point. All they had done so far was wander aimlessly around a practically empty and abandoned building. He thought about the possibilities for a moment. "You're probably right" he finally answered back. They walked back to the room where they were previously locked in with the intention of collecting Joker and his assistant…only to discover that they were gone. "What?" Robin gasped. "Where'd they go?" They both cautiously entered the room. Batman observed the broken zip-ties on the ground as Robin stood close to the entrance. This is just wonderful he thought sarcastically. "Does this mean we're gonna have to walk around the building again to look for them?" his protégé asked unenthusiastically. "Oh no, we'll make it easier for you birdy boy!" a voice spoke from behind him. Before he could turn, two huge hands grabbed his arms from behind and took him out into the dark hallway. "GAH!" he cried. Batman nearly jumped off the ground as soon as he heard the voice. "ROBIN!" he yelled. The metal door immediately slammed shut, but he was able to get a glance at the wide-eyed panicked look on his face. Dick, no! He started banging his fists against the door before hearing the Joker start cackling wildly on the other side of the door. "Relax batsy! Didn't I say that I wanted to talk to the birdy? All I'm going to do is have that talk! And maybe have a little fun while we're at it!" he heard him say and bit of Robin's struggling that was somewhat muffled through the door. "Joker! I swear, if you do anything to him—" "Feel free to make yourself at home!" and with that Joker howled another one of his signature laughs and it soon got quiet. No time to waste. Robin Robin found it incredibly annoying that Joker would taunt Batman in such a matter. "Annoying" isn't exactly the proper term for how he should be feeling, but that's how it felt to him. He also felt obviously scared and anxious because who knows what the Joker had in mind to do to him—as Batman had said earlier that evening: "the Joker can be unpredictable." In the hallway, he heard his mentor banging on the door. Joker was back with two henchman, one of which had his huge arms wrapped around his small body—at the moment all he could do was squirm around. The other henchman had stripped him of his utility belt, slapped a strip of duct tape across his mouth and then started working on wrapping thick layers around his ankles and his wrists. Oh God, this is really bad! He then started feeling a little remorse. He had told a lie—just a small one—to Batman when he asked how he was feeling. He knew that he noticed that he was a little out of it in the room where they were previously shackled onto the wall. He did indeed actually feel a little odd, but he didn't want Bruce to worry...yet; at least not until they were home in the safety of the bat cave with Alfred's medical assistance. His head still hurt from when the thug had ambushed him back at the carnival. His insides felt a little weird too, but it didn't hurt or bother him too much. Now everything was falling to pieces around him. He got captured...again, now Batman was now locked in the room. Joker managed to divide the crime-fighting pair once again. This evening is turning out more complicated than it should have been. After one of the new thugs finished wrapping his wrists with the tape, Joker had just finished yelling through the door "Feel free to make yourself at home!" and snapped his fingers. The big thug—whom Robin nicknamed Chuckles—swung his body over his shoulder and followed his boss with the rest of the cavalry. "Mph!" he grunted. His already aching head almost hit against Chuckles' back as he started walking. As they walked further away from the closed door, he noticed that his utility belt was also just left there on the floor. They didn't even bother looking through the pockets. "Be careful with the cargo" Joker said, "it's small and precious." He chuckled. Then went on blabbing about how much fun they were going later. Robin purposely grunted loudly in the most annoyed tone he could make. "Robin, don't try to irritate them." He suddenly heard a familiar voice speak in his ear. That startled him, but then quickly realized that his com link was still intact. Batman! It is indeed a fact—at least to him and a small handful of other people—that his guardian is the world renown goddamn Batman, but there was no way in hell that he had somehow developed telepathic powers within the past few hours—but then he mentally face-palmed and rolled his eyes. Duh, Grayson! You're still wearing the com! What could he say to him? He was currently gagged, hanging over a dummy's shoulder like a backpack with one strap, and was trying his best to get the small cutting knife hidden in his glove to cut through the layers of tape without making the thug suspicious. Unfortunately his wrists were tied in an area where it was almost impossible to move around in wrist joints. What is up with me? He thought. I haven't been this deep in trouble since my early Robin days. "I'm currently trying to get myself out," he heard Batman say into the com. "I need you to be patient and no unnecessary risks to yourself." He ordered. He somewhat relaxed. He knew that he had a tracker on his utility belt, but that was gone. Knowing how Batman was with all his contingency plans, there was probably another one attached somewhere on his suit. Maybe in the hemming of his cape or the com itself was a tracker. Or perhaps one day he performed a secret surgery on me when I was sleeping and implanted one in my freaking spinal cord. Throughout this whole time, he was expecting to be put in another room of the abandoned building, but he tensed up once again when he saw that the group of baddies were going headed outside—where the heck are they going?!—and there, a big dark truck with an already running engine was waiting for them. He didn't want to risk being at a very distance away from Batman. This was now a necessary risk. Despite still feeling a little peculiar, he kicked backwards and hit the hoodlum square in the face—most likely breaking his nose in the process. Awesome. He tried to do a backwards flip, but unfortunately—and embarrassingly—landed with a loud muffled grunt on his bottom. "Robin! What are you doing? What's going on?!" a somewhat panicky-sounding Batman yelled into the com along with the sounds of what sounded like metal being torn apart. He felt naked and exposed without his belt. Normally by now, he would have taken out a knife from one of the pockets. He ripped off the tape from his mouth with his bound hands. "They're going to take me somewhere in a truck! I refuse to go along!" he answered his mentor as he unwrapped the tape around his ankles. The thug with the bleeding broken noise landed flat on his back and was still moaning—quite loudly—in pain and the other was quickly approaching him while Joker yelled all kinds of profanity at them. "Can't you do anything, right? He's just a kid! It shouldn't be that hard to get a dumb kid in a truck!" was only some of the various things he was howling out at them. "Puddin'! What's goin' on?" he heard a squeaky female voice call out from the truck. Oh great, Harley Quinn is here too. "I'm out," Batman said in the com. "Try to keep them busy!" "Alright." He responded. But hurry the hell up! As the other thug was about to pounce on him, he finally unraveled the tape from his ankles and threw the wadded tape ball into his face, slightly distracting him. He flipped backwards as his attacker landed clumsily head first on the cold cement. Robin couldn't help but snicker to himself as it happened. And it also seemed that he was feeling a little better. He probably needed to get his adrenaline up; he had spent most of the evening on a wild goose chase after the Joker, then hanging on a wall for who knows how long. He didn't get much of the action that he had desired. He was about to go after Joker who had run to the driver's side of the big truck until he heard him say: "Harley! It's wearing off! I need another! Hurry up!" Oh crap! Another what? What's wearing off? He heard the grunts of the two men he had just taken down behind him. He quickly turned around to avoid getting hit again and realized that their bodies were on the ground again, but in a messy clump. He looked up and saw Batman standing over them, with his yellow utility belt looped over his shoulder. "Batman!" he said happily. Finally, he can cut off this tape. He then felt a sudden and incredibly sharp prick on his neck. "Ah!" he gasped. And then it was almost instant. He fell back into a state of unconsciousness. But not before hearing his mentor call out his name. Batman Why is this door not opening? Batman growled to himself. It was a basic door with a lock a non-working hand scanner, nothing he couldn't handle. So why was it taking him so long to get it open? Another question on his mind was: What's wrong with him? He was showing signs of decrease in his crime fighting abilities—small signs, but a little more than the normal bad day. It was one thing to get captured once…but twice?! That hadn't happened since his first few months as Robin At the moment he was just thankful that Joker and his crew had forgotten about their com links and didn't take out Robin's. He was hearing everything—even the sound of his stifled struggling which pained him to listen. He took out a small portable laser from his belt and started cutting through the door and heard the Joker through the com: "Be careful with the cargo, it's small and precious." He giggled. Yeah, it's my precious cargo, you— He heard Robin's loud, obviously annoyed, grunt. This door was still going to take a while to take down; he couldn't risk Dick endangering himself even more just for having a little attitude. "Robin," he said "don't try to irritate them." He also hoped—although his job description says to strike fear into the hearts of criminals and villains—he hoped that probably the sound of his voice would give his young protégé some feeling of security and assurance. He heard one surprised stifled gasp come from his line—obviously meaning that Robin got his message. "I'm currently trying to get myself out. I need you to be patient and no unnecessary risks to yourself." He ordered. He was getting closer to getting the door open. I got to work on a stronger laser when we get home. A few moments had passed until he started hearing sounds on the other line. Oh crap, what are you doing Dick? He heard an intense cry of pain from a man—probably the one Robin called Chuckles. Soon followed was a loud grunt that came from Robin himself. He was so close to getting the door open! Just a few more seconds! "Robin! What are you doing? What's going on?!" he didn't bother to hide the concern in his voice. His more paternal "Bruce Wayne" side was coming out. He began pounding on the door. Almost! Almost! He heard him rip off the tape from his mouth. "They're going to take me somewhere in a truck! I refuse to go along!" Robin immediately answered. In the background he also heard Joker yelling harshly at his stooges. He continued pounding until at last! He had finally managed to break the door down. "I'm out. Try to keep them busy" he said, bringing back his emotionless Batman voice again. "Alright." Before running out the door, he saw Robin's carelessly discarded utility belt on the ground. He immediately grabbed it and looped it around his shoulder. He went out the exit and saw that a man with a bloody nose and another with some kind of head injury were planning on slowly jumping on his sidekick. Oh hell no! He threw out a batarang to one of them, badly cutting Chuckles' hand. They both looked back to see what it was—only to have their heads forcefully be knocked against one another immediately causing them to pass out. Robin turned around and saw his mentor. "Batman!" he said with a smile on his face. Batman smirked and stepped forward to cut off the restraints around the young boy's wrists only for him to stop when he saw his expression change almost instantly. Robin suddenly gave out a painful gasp and started wobbling in place. "Robin!" he called out and stepped forward just in time to catch the boy in his arms. He saw the dart that was stabbed into his neck. He looked up and saw Joker and Harley Quinn getting away in their truck. Joker popped his head out the window and blew a kiss and cackled loudly. "'Til next time, batsy! Ta ta for now!" He scowled as they left and looked down at the boy. "Joker is going to have to wait." He mumbled to himself as he held onto his son. Batcave, located in Gotham City of course. It had been exactly two excruciatingly long days since the Joker incident. Bruce was getting worryingly frustrated. He had spent almost the entire past forty-eight hours in the depths of the cave where he could do his research and also keep an eye on Dick who was currently recovering in a medical bed. Based on the events that he recalled, it was possible that he was dosed twice with the chemicals that he had found in the dart. A first dose, when they were both unconscious and the second one…well he witnessed it for himself. That night when he brought him back to the cave—it was quite a painful night. Right after he cut off the thick restraints that kept his son's wrists together, he held him tightly in his arms as he sent an alarm to the Batmobile to come to their location. As soon as it arrived he placed him carefully in the passenger seat and drove immediately back home. Dick had not woken up since then. After getting checked up on by both their butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and their personal physician Dr. Leslie Thompkins, he was deemed at the moment stable, but unless an antidote could be found to flush the mysterious chemicals out of his system—it was almost impossible to tell when (or if) he would wake up. The third day was arriving and Bruce still sat in front of the computer with a tray of untouched food that was literally handed to on a silver platter off to the side. His hands ran messily into his hair and covered his face. He had looked at the small sample of the chemical that was still left in the dart and had even taken a blood sample from the already infected Dick, but things still weren't adding up. The Joker is clever, but not that smart, he thought. He cannot be doing this on his own. Harley Quinn used to be a clinical psychiatrist; maybe she still has some sanity in her and is using it against us. As he thought, he could hear the beeping of the heart monitor in the background. Dick's heart monitor. He hated thinking about that. It was times like these that he thought about the choices he made in his life. Was he doing the right thing for him? Apparently not. Was it a wise choice to recruit his adopted son into the lifelong battle against crime? Would their relationship be any different if he had never become Robin? Of course it would. Our favorite topic of conversation is our night jobs and ways to improve our strategies…a thirteen year old shouldn't be having conversations like that with his father figure. He got up from his chair and walked over to check up on him. Since that night he had surrounded the medical area with a pale-colored curtain. It was hard to work when you could see one of your loved ones in a comatose state. The silhouette was still visible whenever he would turn his head, but it hurt a lot less than seeing the actually uncovered body. He pushed the curtain aside, stood over the bed and observed Dick's overall physique. Pale face, normal breathing (thank god), messy black hair…closed eyes. Aside from the paleness, anybody else would have thought that he was just sleeping. That's what probably hurt the most. He expected Dick to just open his big blue eyes at any given moment and ask him what time it was. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon unless he could find an antidote. As he looked, he still continued to think about that night. The possible two doses of that chemical, but when he had the first dose he managed to wake up hours later—what was so different about this second one? If they were different chemicals, then why use a changed one afterwards? Bruce had been grateful that for the past few nights his presence wasn't so needed. The murders of the families had stopped since the night Batman and Robin tried to stop Joker. He would spend almost the whole night looking for Joker's whereabouts—searches that resulted fruitless—before eagerly returning home to continue researching and checking on Dick's progress. The Joker was being too quiet… He would spend a few minutes just staring into his son's face as he held his cold seemingly lifeless hand in his own. Sing for me my little bird, he mentally pleaded. Practically all alone with my fear of losing you, I don't want this anymore. If he ever managed to get Dick out of this predicament, he would have a talk with him to make him retire the Robin identity...it'll crush him, but he means too damn much to me. …If he ever wakes up. He turned back and closed the curtain as he went back to the computer to continue working. As he was about to settle into the chair again, the bothersome beeping from the heart monitor stopped. For a second, he felt relief that it had stopped annoying him…only to mentally face-palm and remember that someone very important to him was connected to it. He immediately turned around and stopped before taking another step forward. He marveled at the view in front of him: the silhouette of Dick's body was no longer lying down. Through the curtain, the silhouette was reflected as a pale dark green form—a pale dark green form that was in a slumped sitting position on the bed. He started running and unintentionally pushed away the curtain a little harsher than intended as it nearly was ripped off from the rings. Behind that curtain…was Dick looking up to his mentor was the bright blue eyes that Bruce had been dying to see for the past few nights. The boy had disconnected himself from the monitor and held the wires in his hand. For what seemed like an eternity, neither of them said anything until Dick broke the silence. "Bruce…" he said, "what happened?" Bruce then instantly enveloped his son into a hug. He rubbed his back and gently tugged his messy black hair. "The chemical wore off." He answered. "And you're fine." They stayed in that position for a while longer. "I'm sorry." Dick said in a hushed tone. Batcave Bruce was caught off guard from those simple words. Why in the world was Dick apologizing to him? Did he feel responsible for what happened at the carnival? That he wasn't able to hack into the controls in time? Was he even apologizing for disconnecting himself from the heart monitor? What was it? Bruce pulled back from the hug and looked into the blue eyes that he missed so much. He settled himself on the edge of the bed as he prepared for what he predicted was going to be a long and serious discussion. "Sorry about what?" It wouldn't be the first time if he apologized about messing up on a case or accidentally letting the bad guy get away. Robin had improved quite significantly from the past few years. But what was on his mind? "I'm sorry," the boy said, "I wasn't being truthful back at the building." Bruce looked intently at the boy. Where was he going with this? "What are you talking about? Not be honest about what?" Dick kept his head down. He observed the bruises that appeared around his wrists. He remembered more from that night. He was captured twice! He had been bound in some form or another twice! He got separated from his partner twice! He had needed Batman to come to his rescue...TWICE. All happened in the same night. "I am sorry about lying to you...when you asked me if I was feeling alright." he began. "I felt a little…" he played with his fingers as he thought about what word would be most fitting. "Odd, but I thought it was something I could brush off...which was a little true until later." Bruce had heard the words his son spoke...but he couldn't help but think about his last meal. Besides being nourished via IV for the past few days, what was the last thing he ate? "Dick, its ok." he told him. "I don't blame any of what happened that night on you." he pulled him into a hug—since when was Bruce the type to willingly give hugs?—"we can talk about this later, you must be hungry." He got up and walked over to the computer monitor where there was one of the silver platters Alfred had brought down for him—still untouched. He lifted the lid. "You like French onion soup, right? I can heat it up for you if you want." He said as he sniffed over the contents in the bowl. "Alfred brought it down only about an hour ago. It is still good." "Bruce, stop it." His shoulders started shaking lightly. He's trying his best not to break down in front of me. Slightly ignoring what he said, Bruce brought over the tray to the bed where he set up a small table for Dick to use. "I should inform Alfred and Leslie that you're awake." he said as he generously helped Dick into a better sitting position and prepared to leave the area to use a phone by the computer. "How long was I out?" Dick asked as he poked the soup with a spoon, still looking sullen. His mentor stood by the curtain with his back towards him. Dick couldn't see the look on his face, but based on his posture...it wasn't something he would be glad to hear. With a deep heavy sigh, he said with a bit of a nervous vibrato in his voice "Almost three days, son." The silver spoon dropped from his hand as he gave out a small gasp. "Bruce..." he said with a deep knowing feeling that he wouldn't like the response, "please tell me what happened!" Bruce still stood at the curtain with a small bunch of the light green fabric balled up in his fist. At the moment he turned back around to face him, Dick asked another question. "Do you still want me as a partner...do you still want Robin?" Dick had been trying to hold it in for as long as he could manage—he tried his very best—but sometimes trying to hide your true emotions is just as hard as fighting crime. Tears streamed down his cheeks in slow flows and drops fell into the bowl of soup sitting in front of him. He immediately started rubbing his cheeks to wipe away the tears. His face started turning red— the result from wiping his cheeks so hard and from the utter embarrassment of crying in front his mentor. Bruce removed the tray from the bed and sat on the edge. He took Dick's hands and removed them from his face and embraced him once again. Feeling safer in his arms, the boy let out a few gasps that he had been holding in and shook a little more violently has Bruce soothingly rubbed his back. "We can talk about this later if you want." He said as Dick got quieter. "Wait…" Dick said as he slowly removed himself from the hug. "Are you actually considering not bringing me out to the field anymore?" He didn't know what to think. He almost completely expected Bruce to contradict what he said. He looked upwards to face him. Bruce's face remained stiff. "I am feeling so incredibly blessed to have you talking to me right now." The older man said as he gently laid a hand onto the boy's shoulder. "I don't want to risk your life, just because you have miraculously come out of this." Dick just continued looking at him. The words he spoke circled around his head and settled heavily. If he was still connected to the heart monitor it probably would have been beeping frantically. He's retiring Robin! He's actually doing it! "You mean too much to me, son." He continued with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. "It was even probably a bad idea to have gotten you involved into the crime fighting business. It was even a stupid idea to have recruited someone so young! You were nine-years-old for God's sake!" he said as he rubbed his face in frustration. "But, Bruce!" Dick cried. "If it wasn't for you—for this—who knows what type of person I would have become!" "I have zero regrets taking you in," Bruce said. "I want you to understand that!" "I am still here! I am still alive!" the boy countered. "Yes, but I don't want there to be a day when I won't be able to save you!" Bruce exclaimed. "But who will be there if it's you who will need the saving?!" That last statement echoed through the hollow walls of the cave. then followed by complete silence. They just stared at each other—observing each other's features—until sound of loud alarms from the computers finally broke the thick silence. Bruce immediately got up from the bed and was about to walk out of the medical area, but he took a double take. Dick was still sitting in the bed but with a straighter back and a startled expression on his face. "I'm calling Alfred down here. Stay put." He ordered as he mentally transitioned from the worried and fatherly Bruce Wayne role to the demanding and intimidating Dark Knight Façade. Everything right after that was like a blur. Everything that happened afterwards happened so quickly. Bruce had phoned Alfred down to inform him that Dick was awake. The alarms were ringing because there was finally a Joker sighting…at the carnival—where all this madness started. Bruce had changed into the Batman suit in what seemed like an instant. As he was about to get into the bat mobile—he looked back at the medical area where Dick was sitting there watching all this go down. He still had a hurt look on his face. He walked over and pulled down the cowl. Bruce Wayne is talking right now. "I'm doing this because I care." He said as he once again put his gloved hand on his shoulder. Seems like his own way of showing that he cares. "Now rest up. I'll be back as soon as I can." Dick still didn't know how to react. All at the same time he felt sick, hungry, angry… and valued. As he watched his mentor walk away he finally decided to say something. "Bruce." He called out before he got into the car. He turned to face him. "Please be careful." Dick croaked. "Everything you said about me…it's not just you. I don't know what I'd do if we lost you." Behind the bat symbol on his chest, he felt a sense of heartbreak. He only thought about Robin's safety- then he realized that Robin also constantly worried about Batman's wellbeing. With a small smile on his face, he pulled the cowl down back over his face and nodded. "Don't worry." How could he not? As Batman drove away, Dick heard Alfred's footsteps from the top of the stairs. They were quick steps and he was then soon within his view. Alfred's solemn face then sprouted a smile as he walked over to the bed in his usual gentlemanly manner. "It seems like you've had quite the wakeup call, Master Dick." "No kidding." He answered as he blew out a puff of a laugh. Alfred looked over to where the bowl of the still untouched French onion soup was. He sighed heavily as he kneeled to pick it up from the ground. "It's one thing to try to feed you one of your least favorite meals, but not heat it up in the least?" he mumbled. "I swear that man may be a great detective, but he is such an ignorant man in some aspects." "He offered to heat it up." Noting the sullen tone in his voice, Alfred stopped what he was doing and let the bowl back down on the ground. "Did you and Master Bruce have a…discussion before he left?" he asked worryingly. Dick looked up to the old man. "I guess we did." Tears started to pool up in his eyes again. Not now, not now! Alfred could sense the tension his youngest charge was radiating. "Would you like to talk about it?" "Bruce" Dick said as he decided it would be better to keep his head down as he wiped his eyes. "He's going to take Robin away from me." The Carnival Based on the police reports, there were a few anonymous calls made saying that they witnessed the Joker poking around the carnival—that was as of one day ago left untouched by police. As he speeded his way through the currently almost empty streets of Gotham in the bar mobile, Batman thought about the hell the Joker made him go through within the past weekend. Not knowing whether or not Dick would wake up, the struggle of finding an antidote that he currently still didn't know what it was, the gall to actually infect his only child with it, the murders he had committed, the children he had orphaned, and probably worst of all—actually thinking he could get away with it. The bat mobile whizzed rapidly into the parking lot. Batman jumped out of the car and glared at the carnival entrance. Time to make him pay...for everything. Carnival Batman began approaching the entrance of the fun house where Joker was most likely hiding in. As determined as he was to catch the criminal, thoughts from the previous conversation he had with Dick were replaying over and over again in his mind. He had left the cave with both he and Dick on somewhat good terms, but still a little tense for his liking. He had taken away Robin—but for his own safety! He had gotten Dick is so many dangerous situations. It is now time to put an end to the most ridiculous childhood ever! Dick is safe at home with Alfred. He repeated over and over again in his mind. He's never going to do this again. Not ever! Back at the cave Once again leaving the bowl of French onion soup on the tray, Alfred sat on the edge of the bed and heard Dick's story. He face remained the same as his youngest charge spoke. He noticed the boy trying his best not to cry again as he told his anecdote of what went down between him and Bruce. "…and that was when you came down, Alfred." Dick finished as he absent-mindedly played around with the light green bed sheets with his fingers. "Now he's out who-knows-where. Maybe confronting the Joker as we speak." Alfred observed his mannerisms—Batman isn't the only detective around here. Dick had just woken up from an almost three day coma about half an hour ago and was given so much astonishing news all at once. The boy is still in shock—and perhaps Master Bruce as well. "Master Dick, as much as I would like you to retire that identity and for you to have somewhat of a normal childhood, it is not my place to say so." He began. Dick looked up somewhat startled. He wants me to quit too?! Then why go through all this trouble for the past few years?! "And quite honestly it would relax my poor old heart if you both resign the night vigilante business, but I know Master Bruce far too well. His goal is to protect Gotham at any cost—in a way he has become Gotham City, but this is something that we have both learned later on that he cannot do alone." The boy continued to look intently at Alfred who was giving him one of the most inspiring monologues he had ever heard him say. I guess it wasn't a joke when he said he used to be an actor. "There was a reason why you came into our lives the way you have. As Sherlock Holmes needs a John Watson—Batman needs a Robin." "Alfred…" Dick said as he marveled at his grandfather-figure. So much wisdom said with so little words. "Have you ever considered writing speeches?" "Do you honestly believe that all those things Master Bruce says on television are all of his doing?" the old man joked as he got up from the bed. He bent over and picked up the tray of untouched soup. "Now let's get some better and warmer food into your system, shall we?" he said as he walked back up into the manor. Dick heard the grandfather clock that led the entrance to the cave whir quietly from a distance. He sat there for a minute. He looked down and noticed that he was dressed in a loose white T-shirt and a pair of light blue pajama pants. He then started thinking about everything with Bruce, then his talk with Alfred—then he remembered some of things he dreamed about while he was in the coma…mom and dad during their last performance. It was like he lived that dreadful moment over and over again. He was always standing on the sideline when they were flipping through the air without a care in the world. "Mom! Dad! Get off!" he cried. But they were not listening. The continued the routine they had practiced and memorized. They thought nothing could go wrong. Then the wires snapped. "No!" the boy cried as he watched the two people he loved most plummet to their deaths. As they were about to hit the ground—he was back in the sidelines and Mom and Dad would be swinging on the trapeze again. Then he cried out for them which would once again go ignored. The wires snapped again and they would fall again and it would start all over again the instant before the fatal impact to the ground. It was when he finally saw them hit the hard surface that he instantaneously woke up in the Batcave behind the light green curtains. In a panic he removed the wires that connected him to the heart monitor. If it weren't for Bruce checking up on him almost immediately he might have had an emotional breakdown right then and there. He almost forgot about the seemingly never-ending loop that he went through. Getting even more depressed isn't going to help. He decided to test his motor skills. Start small. Toes. He wiggled every single one of his ten toes without difficulty. Now Knees. He bent his right, then his left knee under the sheets. Everything seemed to look fine. Whatever I was infected with doesn't seem to affect mobility. Or maybe it just took three days to get it out of my system. Now let's try standing. He removed the bed sheet and exposed his legs. He gingerly swept them over the side of the bed. His feet hung a few inches away from the ground. He looked down and remembered his unsteadiness in standing when Batman had released the manacles from him. Then he remembered the queasiness— Stop it! He mentally yelled at himself. Everything is going to be fine. "Just do it." He croaked to the air. His toes touched the cold ground, then the balls of his feet, then the heels—now step away from the bed. He had been sleeping for the past three days so of course they would be a little stumbling, but after gaining his balance—he felt just fine. No queasiness, no dizziness, nothing! Maybe Bruce had fired him as Robin…but that didn't mean that he still couldn't help, right? He sprinted towards the huge computer and scrambled around the work area—opening drawers, looking behind equipment—trying to locate something. "Where is it?" he mumbled as he opened one final drawer. "Ah ha!" His game plan was to prove to himself to Batman. That he was still capable of helping—even if it meant working behind the scenes. That was usually Alfred's job, but only on extremely dangerous and important missions. Wouldn't it be useful to have someone man the monitors every minute of every night? He took out a microphone headset from the drawer, placed it on his head, and connected himself onto the systems. Seconds later, he found himself looking at the exact pinpoint location where Batman was. At the press of a few more buttons on the keyboard he was then able to see what Batman could seeing. Dick glanced up to the monitor and immediately his mouth gaped and eyes widened in horror. Oh no! Carnival It was like was experiencing déjà vu. Besides some left over yellow police tape lying around, it was as if it was still the first time Batman and Robin had come chasing after the Joker. The same irritable calliope music, the same neon-colored bordered walls, and even the same display window with the jar of dismembered limbs. The only thing missing was the sound of Joker's laughter in the intercom system—and Robin. "Concentrate." He sternly muttered to himself. He could not allow these thoughts distract him. At least not now. Joker first, then home. Batman casually, yet carefully and stealthily turned the halls and saw the wide entrance to the pipe organ. It was currently playing an upbeat tune all by itself as it spewed steam from the slits of the bronze pipes. Batman then had a sudden incredibly strong feeling of repentance. That night, if he and Robin had stayed together—they would probably be out patrolling somewhere else in Gotham City, or maybe having a "Bruce and Dick Day" as the boy would jokingly call it sometimes. "Bruce and Dick Days" consisted of the two of them—and sometimes Alfred—having some sort of bonding session. Sometimes they would go to the theater, go see a movie in a cinema, going to some sort of sporting event, and if the night was particularly exhausting, they would just pop in a movie with some strawberry and Ovaltine milkshakes and Alfred's kettle corn. But no. Tonight he was worrying about the boy's health while he was out chasing after the Joker once again. Something I should have done three days ago. If it weren't for the fact that he needed to be as quiet as possible at the current moment, he would have stopped in place, punched a hole in the wall and grunted loudly in frustration. He continued his way into the room with the steam pipes then suddenly his train of thought was immediately disturbed by the Joker's incredibly loud—more than usual—cackling through the intercom system. "Welcome back, batsy! Long time no see, huh?" Batman did not respond. He stood in place—with a batarang in his hand, of course. "I am just gonna go out on a limb here and assume that you're here about your brat, aren't you?" Joker teased through the system. "I'm here for you, Joker!" he growled angrily. As he spoke, Batman began to hear the sounds of police sirens approaching the area. "Oh no, Batman! The coppers will ruin our fun!" he heard Joker say in a whiny tone. "What to do, what to do." Through the system, the tapping of his fingers on a hard surface could also be heard. "I know!" he finally rejoiced. "Barricade the doors!" Much like a few nights before the opening leading to the pipe organ closed right behind him, but he did not react. He just simply stood in place as he looked behind him and watched as the doors slid shut. He prepared his body in a fighting stance as he expected to be ambushed by a group of Joker's goons in that small area—but astonishingly—he was wrong. The pipe organ suddenly erupted with large hot puffs of steam as it played incredibly loud off-key notes of the song it was playing previously when he entered. Joker's laughter echoed maniacally through the intercom system. Before Batman could reach for his gas mask…he breathed in too much. He collapsed onto the ground and before he fell into the black—he heard a familiar voice cry out to him in his head. "NO!"
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