The unthinkable occurred.
Grayson's mind was racing, racing- as if for the first time in the history of the world, the term truly described what he saw. Grabbing a gun off the floor, he slung it at the killer. Gotham somehow being functional despite the unending bloodbath of its history, that was unthinkable, but people had time to get used to the idea, it was impossible, after all this time, that the productivity and working order of the city were an illusion. The weapon flew threw the air, cracking the skull in a world where all seemed silent for a moment. His own life, his lifelong response to the death of his parents, had been unthinkable, to the police who discovered their bodies, to the detective and doctor who questioned him, even to himself at times, to join in righteous force of will in the crusade against the evil of Gotham. He knew not if Deadshot had died from the impact to his skull, the thought never entered his mind. The identity and life of Robin, however, would never have surprised his parents, in the short time he had known them it seemed that he would always live exactly up to their expectations- surprising or disappointing them was, of course, unthinkable. Forcing himself to think, he remembered that Batman had already called in medical assistance for the hostages.
He stared down at the unimaginable, the inconceivable, the unthinkable, Batman, drowning in his own blood.
"All targets are down-" The words came out of his mouth one at a time. "Stop the bleeding-" He was already holding the wound closed.
"Dick-"
"Stop talking!" He shouted. "The ambulance is on its way!"
"There isn't time. The bullet-" Blood, blood, how much had he lost? "- it was designed to kill. I can feel the toxin-"
"You are not dying!" Perhaps he could convince himself, keep the unthinkable out of his mind. Batman tore the symbol off his chest with labored breath. "What are you doing?" Robin asked, barely above a whisper-
"I never told you-" He weakly extended the black bat to his partner. "But you probably-" He coughed again.
"No, I didn't- I had no idea-" I'm not you. Grabbing the symbol out of loyalty, he turned to see the sirens of the police cars and the ambulances, the red and blue light that engulfed the body.
"Oh, God, no-" It was Gordon's voice. "If one of you goddamned hacks touches that mask, I'll shoot you. Get him in the ambulance." He walked over to where Robin was crouched on the ground. "What the- What happened here, Robin?"
"Deadshot- he's over there. He- We've been following this series of suspicious activity among the villains. Professor Pyg was first- you saw it." Gordon nodded. 48 hours ago, the psychopath had projected a display of hacked up, disfigured faces on the emergency broadcasting channel. What was strange was that he was using a sculptor to do the job where previously he had done it by hand. He gave his little insane, inaudible drivel about his creations before the channel cut out entirely. "Clayface was next." Batman was carefully loaded onto the ambulance, where Robin motioned for the commissioner to follow him. "He was faster than before, he nearly killed both of us- it took more freeze grenades than usual to bring him down, but mostly because he was dodging them."
"You can't be in here." The EMS worker said as though he had just stepped in.
"He's a friend of Batman-"
"I was talking to both of you. Clear." The electricity pulsed through Wayne's body with force, moving him like a doll. He gasped.
"Robin- read it-" The heartbeat monitor was all over the place.
"Sir, you have to relax-" Life was leaving him and Robin could see it. Pinching a nerve in his own hand to prevent tears from forming, he turned over the symbol in his hand. Instructions. Of course.
For the last few moments of his life, Batman simply stared at him. Perhaps he saw a truly pitiable boy, not nearly equipped to face the coming trials and the toils that lied still beyond. Perhaps he saw a man, ready for what horrors may come and his eyes gleamed with pride one last time before they darkened.
Whatever he saw, he revealed nothing.
Gordon closed his eyes, unable to keep from crying. "He was the best of any of us, better than this town deserves- he'll live on as a symbol- wait, where's the one on his chest?"
"I have it." The police commissioner stared at him for a moment.
"Good. If anyone needs it-" He trailed off, lost in thought before resuming. "Look, if there's anything, else you need-" he began, omitting the obvious off the body of Batman.
"Not really, but it's better to keep this from our enemies." He detached the utility belt, preventing the electrical defense mechanism from activating.
"Good thinking, kid. I don't know how you do it- I don't know how he did it."
We've been through this before.
Robin said nothing. He mentally relived the last few hours, silently taking out Deadshot's henchmen. All were armed to the teeth, outfitted with elite optic deflection armor, and equipped with portable heat imaging scanners.
"Look, I know what he was to you." Gordon began, snapping him back to the present. Do you? "He was like a father to you." The idea gave him pause. "There will be no desecration, I'll make sure of it. We can't put up a memorial, it would only be a target, but the body-"
"Burn the body. Do it as soon as possible. It's the only way to protect his identity for the short amount of time we have." He interrupted, reading the back of the bat. I can't stand to see him like this, anyway."I have to go- now." It was true enough.
He found the Batmobile in the street, armor activated. He had never driven it, not alone, but at fourteen he was old enough to be learning from Alfred or Bruce, whatever opportunity presented itself. The faithful butler would not leave his mind as he drove through town and out of it, making sure it was seen. News of the death would spread quickly, but he would do whatever he could to confuse the public as long as possible. Activating Batman's Justice League communicator, he was greeted by the face of Superman.
"Robin. What-"
"Falsify a report of Batman's whereabouts. He's offworld, on a mission with the League."
"May I ask why?" This was not a question.
"Because- He's dead. I'm trying to keep people from realizing it. It'll be impossible to contain soon-"
"Son, we'll handle it. It seems you've got something you need to do, so I'll leave you to it. After that, we'll talk." Robin disconnected after nodding, seeing an opportunity to end the conversation.
"Damn." Looking at the bat again, he noticed he had passed over the first instruction without reading it.
Don't panic. The second of course instructed him to burn the body, though it only confirmed what he had been thinking at the time.
Destroy the evidence. Deciding Bruce had put them in order for a reason, he took the cave entrance when he reached the manor, skidding the vehicle to a halt. The cave had been mined years ago, ready to collapse in the event that they both gave it up or intruders made it inside. Whether they would survive or not would be up to them. He loaded up the car with what he needed. An untraceable laptop, containing all the necessary data from the Batcomputer, which he would have to manually destroy. One of the batsuits went into the trunk, along with an assortment of gear, deciding it may be necessary for a League member to impersonate Batman. Going through Batman's contingencies, he took only the piece of Kryptonite, doubting he could ever properly use a Yellow Lantern ring and hating the entire idea anyway.
"Master Grayson?"
"Alfred?" Robin responded, stalling, as he threw spares of his own gear into the back seat.
"I would under normal circumstances ask what possesses you to heave a moiety of Master Wayne's worldly possessions into his vehicle, but you have a visitor."
"This is bad." Robin hissed. "Alfred- anything small enough to go into the Batmobile, essential things, things we can't replace- I'll deal with this visitor." He said, almost growling as his staff extended. Firing his grappling hook to get to the entrance to the manor, his mind raced through all possibilities of who could have puzzled out the situation with such speed.
"My apologies, it appears I have the responsibilities of a butler confused with those of a batman." The play on words was of course lost on Grayson, not knowing what a batman was, apart from something not a part of him, but something of which he was a part. The house had a speaker on the doorbell, which could be reached by a telephone in the main hall.
"Speak." Robin began in his usual voice. It was certainly suspicious for Robin to be in Wayne Manor, but it couldn't get much worse than it was. Anyone who had requested to see him personally knew of Batman's demise.
"Umm- hello? I was supposed to ask for a 'Dick Grayson' if Bruce Wayne couldn't come to the door?"
"Ask for what?" Robin asked as he left Batman's radio next to the phone, making his way to the door.
"Training? He didn't mention it?"
"We've been busy. We're busy now."
"But he isn't here? Look, I have already talked this over with him-" she began as she opened the door, which had not at any point been locked. "-and what the hell are you doing with the utility belt?" Robin's eyes flashed with rage.
"What the hell are you doing opening the damn door?!"
"Calm down!- I know what this stuff is, I have experience-"
"You're Gordon's daughter."
"I have a name too."
"I don't know it. I also don't know how you learned of any of this, why you've been contacted by Batman or Bruce Wayne, but I don't have time for it right now." She knows too much and I can't risk her getting captured. I need a plan.
Robin ignored the first half of her response as he scanned the back of the symbol for any mention of her, though given it was doubtful Bruce knew the exact time of his death, training the girl probably would not be on there. Either way, he had higher priorities.
"-which is why I am here. I have had training-" Robin punched her in the abdomen.
"Not enough." As she started back, he leaped over her, pinning her to the ground and forcing the air out of her lungs. "Look, I don't know what arrangement you had- I'm not Batman. You want training? Practice staying out of sight for the next few days. Consider this a very large scale game of hide and go seek. Until I can look for you, I'm not going to be any more use to you than Batman."
"And just where-"
"He's dead." The girl's eyes widened. "Your father knows, but he won't tell you. If any part of this gets out, I'm breaking every bone in your body."
"But if he- how will you-"
"I'm working on it." He stood, seeing Alfred, who stood silently.
"Master- Robin. Young ladies are-"
"She knows, Alfred." In response the doggedly loyal old man's face immediately straightened.
"Then these are truly not normal circumstances." The world seemed to go silent as he spoke. "I urge you, Master Grayson, whatever Master Wayne had planned, you are not ready for it. There is no shame in accepting that a young man cannot save Gotham without outside aid." Robin did not ask how he knew; it was unnecessary.
"He left me instructions. Have we destroyed the evidence connected to Fox?" He realized the Gordon girl had already left. Good.
"Not yet. You'll find the vehicle equipped with all its usual and occasional armaments." Alfred began as they returned to the cave.
"I'll need a place to hide it in the city."
"That will not be feasible, Master Grayson, unless your intention is to park it where you will be living and leave it there for the foreseeable future."
"That's the plan."
"In that case, I would recommend the 'chop shop' of the late Vincent Falcone. As there are rumors that it is haunted, you may remain unmolested for a fortnight or so. As I was saying, I have included what existed of Project: Batgirl, mostly standard equipment. I trust the young lady already has a costume?"
"I can only imagine." Robin was beginning to recall an imitator Batman had mentioned, one he multiple times attempted to dissuade from the act. He had omitted that she was a girl a few years older than himself. "Alfred, before I go, before we...destroy everything here-"
"Master Wayne forbade me to imagine this day. He never failed to dismiss my concerns for his well-being, and for that he earned them, every night with his heroics. All the same, I made plans." The butler explained as he activated the demolition countdown. "He and I have tickets to the continent, as well as the necessary pecuniary measures to ensure adequate witnesses of his presence, though he will of course be played by an actor." Alfred turned to leave for the manor's garage, where Dick expected that he would select the Rolls Royce, a favorite of his, turn the lights off before leaving and mindfully close the garage door, as always.
"Alfred, I'm sorry."
"There's no need, my dear boy. You'll find, though, that there's room in the Rolls for three." Robin stood there silently for a moment as the countdown blared in the background of his mind. Alfred nodded and set on his way back up to the manor.
"I don't think I can ever thank-"
"As ever, Master Grayson, there is no need." The lights darkened in the cave, but he lost no time getting in the Batmobile and stepping on it. Less than a mile out, he heard the explosion. He was certain the computer was entirely destroyed, beyond even the most advanced systems of data recovery. As he checked the bat he wondered if there had been a mechanism for destroying the tyrannosaurus, or the giant penny for that matter.
Make a decision now. He figured that unless the symbol referred to getting on the upcoming turnpike, he had already done it and there was no going back.
Keep the League out. That was going to be a difficult task. They had already been informed, it was only a matter of time before they addressed 'The Gotham Problem'. If that failed, and with his very best effort it would, the next topic of discussion would be 'The Robin Problem.' Switching on the police radio for something to take his mind off the inevitable, he heard the dispatcher talking about the Professor Pyg announcement. Robin's eyes narrowed. So there's a new one.
"The video is being shot in a dark cellar, no sign of water damage." Most likely it's somewhere on Miagani Island. Founder's Island is too far below the water table and there would be some mention of 'Ivy damage' if it were on Bleake. Only a few weeks ago, Batman had brought down Poison Ivy, more dangerous than ever armed with plants that secreted neurotoxins into the air, and though neither of them had time to identify the plants, they were most likely engineered into existence anyway. "We've managed to isolate the sound of a train in the distance." Perfect. Trains haven't been running through the city in days, the last one ran through Old Gotham.
Robin switched off the radio as he entered the garage on Founder's Island. The freight elevator inside was large enough, but driving the vehicle onto such an old piece of machinery was an unnecessary risk. Moving the Batmobile as close as possible, he unloaded it quckly and proceeded to park it among Vincent Falcone's personal collection. Amid the strange foreign cars, the ancient but powerful high class rollers, the Batmobile was almost an expected oddity. Vincent's own automobile, an Isotta Fraschini sat in the corner, no scrapes or dings on the body, not a chip in the paint, with the exception of obviously being built in the twenties there was no indication that the vehicle was anything other than brand new.
Grayson tossed a sheet over the Batmobile and took the freight elevator.
The main office was as easy to find as it was to enter. The lock was an old mechanism with a keyhole, and Robin doubted that anyone had ever tried to break in. In taking his possessions from the elevator into the office, he noticed Alfred had packed a drone, among other things. He took in as much as possible of the office while carrying out the task, setting the radio on the cedar desk next to a rotary phone with blood that was only noticeable if the holes were rotated. To the passing observer, the bottles in the liquor cabinet were empty, but Robin was able to detect the smell of chloroform, truth serum, and several poisons. There was a round bed in the adjacent room with satin sheets under which a gash in the cover revealed that the mattress was stuffed with money.
Robin hardly relished the idea of sleeping there, but it would be hours before the night was over.