Disclaimer: I do not own Robin. I am not writing this for a profit, it is simply for the fun of writing.

A.N. : This is a collaboration piece. All of Robin's spoken lines have been written by: .com/ Please feel free to stop by and let them know how you feel about their Robin. Everything else was written by me. Thank you, Robin for putting up with me. I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

Also, please note, that though this may be Young Justice based, it holds a much darker undertone than the show.


Interview with Robin

CHAPTER ONE:

Noise blared its way through the open window; shattering the last of my memories of the still night air I was use to. I sat with my back to the room as I let the smoke trail in stiff spirals from my lips out into the dark. Streetlights did nothing up this high. I wasn't one to smoke away my troubles, but tonight seemed like the night for it. I could still remember the look on that young girls cold face. Her eyes would be the type to haunt me; that I could already tell.

"Get use to it Kid. How else you plan on making it as a reporter; here of all places, if you can't even stand something as common as a dead girl?"

The cop was right. It made me sick inside, but it didn't make him any less right. This wasn't the place kids dreamed of when they went to bed at night. No romance on the street corners, no dreams in the windows. No, Gotham was the place where, if a child went missing from their bedroom it was safe enough to say they were gone. No Peter Pan stories of happily ever after on the other side, no midnight flights through the clouds and a safe trip home. No, not in Gotham.

I took another steady drag from my cigarette and watched as cars shuffled their way around the congestion of the streets. It had only been a few weeks since I arrived here, but I could already feel the muck clinging to me. It stained my shoes, and clouded my lungs. It hung on my coat, and hair. Slowly the grime of this city would have me in its grasp completely, and there was nothing to be done. A loud horn blasted through my thoughts and pulled me from my own darkness, and back to the streets below. I ran my fingers through my hair; it was due for a cut. My cigarette was all but burned out as I dropped it into the ashtray sitting beside my elbow on the window's ledge. I had forgotten it was even lit. Reminding myself I had work to do, I inhaled the stale odor that was the wind and rose to my feet. I had a long night a head.

Hours had seemed to pass since I had turned away from my desk. It took me a moment to even remember where I had last placed things. But fast enough I was slumped back over my papers, working away. The night, the cold mistress she is, lingered on; taunting me with promises of daylight yet to come, only to hang around for hours more. Leaving a kind of bitter taste in the air. The kind that reminds you, that your job really is never ending. I had begun to feel that helpless pang swell back up again so I sat back. Trailing my fingers through my hair once more, dishelving it completely, I glanced back to my open window. Sirens wailed on below.

There, on the other side of the frame was a set of eyes. I blinked, hoping I had been right about the haunting, but no such luck. There they were, still gaping at me. It wasn't truly possible a person was out there. I was twenty-four floors up.

"Who-who's there?"

I prayed there would be no response; that instead those eyes would just fade away. But I was in Gotham now. The sound of a child's laugh echoed back at me and I felt my heart drop. I rose to my feet, pushing my chair over backwards in my haste. I swallowed hard and rubbed at my face and eyes, still praying for a night joke. Slowly I opened my eyes and focused on the window and found nothing. I let out a soft sigh and nodded to my self. No one, just the hauntings of that poor little girl I had the misfortune of meeting earlier that day. I turned my back to the window and picked up my chair. I needed a break. The night was toying with me.

After some time, I made my way back toward my desk, with a hot cup of coffee and a cigarette pressed between my lips. My window was beckoning me to join it for a while. So there I sat, with my back to the room; my coffee beside me and my cigarette hanging loosely from my lip. I tried to ignore the constant noise from the streets, and gaze up at the skyline. No stars. The wind was calmer than it had been before, making the air sticky and stale. I inhaled it deep all the same.

"Well hello there. Enjoying the view?"

For a second, I forgot how to breathe out right. My heart quit and my vision hazed. I found myself hoping I had left my door unlocked and I would turn and find myself at gun point. But no, that voice had come from below me. I fought to inhale, as I lowered my darkened gaze down to the ledge just under my window. There, tucked away in the shadows, I could see those eyes again.

"Who-who are you?"

The dark mass rose gracefully up right. Even on that narrow ledge. And swung itself into a flip, landing on the sill beside me. Just missing my coffee. Which had gone cold. There, in the dusty light of my living room, I could see those eyes better. Bright blue. Framed in black. Masked with faint, white lenses.

"Robin, partner to the one and only Batman."

The boy – that's what he was, a boy. No more than thirteen. Sat with his legs hanging over the side of my window like the ground was just beneath him. I wasn't sure whether to relax because of who he was, or fall deeper into panic. What could I have done to get the attention of Batman?

With a shaky hand, I lit my cigarette and breathed in deep.

"It really is going to be a long night."

As I spoke to myself; the boy, Robin, shifted his body slightly, to face me. I could tell he was reading me. I took a slow drag from my cigarette and watched the smoke weave its way between us and out, out into the night. Even it seemed frantic to leave, spreading out wide and wafting about. I followed it until I couldn't make out the trail against the night.

"So, what do you think of Gotham? The streets, the sights…the people…see anything interesting?"

The sound of his voice seemed almost eager to learn something. My mind reeled, hoping to snag on something I might have done, seen even, that would bring such attention my way. I couldn't think of anything. I was just some shmuck. I shook my head and pulled my cigarette from my lips.

"It's a city all right. I can tell ya that much. But, nothing outa the way, you know?"

I didn't want to seem, evasive, like I had something to hide. But what could I say? I ran my fingers through my hair again, this time attempting to shelve it back in place. I looked a mess. I reached for my coffee, but then left it. It had gone cold. Even the mug was like ice in my hand. Looking back, that could have been all in my head. I hadn't had that cup sitting out long.

The kid seemed to read me, holding his hand up for me to breath. I did. Slowly, and deeply, before I took another drag of my cigarette.

"Relax, I know you didn't do anything. You're a reporter, right?"

I smiled behind my smoke. The kid was good. Read me like an open paper, saw right to the fine print and called me out on my shady deals. He was sharp.

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

It was like ten pounds just up and left my chest. I was still unsure just what the kid wanted, but knowing it wasn't me, that was a good thing to have under my belt. I reached for the mug again, this time to move the cold sludge out of the kid's way.

"But what'da want with me? Aren't we a dime a dozen in this town?"

I turned my back to him. Pacing my self to my desk, then back again. My own slow gears turning, I tried to remember all I had heard about Batman, and his sidekick Robin. Most of it was propaganda, hateful and snide. Any fool with half a brain could tell that. But the honest truths, the people's words, those are what I tried to remember. They were smart, detective level. Almost never wrong. But I still didn't know how that pertained to me. I had only been on this one case, about this one girl. Yeah there had been a few others, they might have been connected but the cops weren't talking, and I had just gotten started on my own research into the case files. And that was, /if/ this case was what he was here about. But part of me, wanted to push that thought aside. It, really was such a small case.

I watched as he tapped his glove. His gaze shadowed by his hair and the dark black of the mask. He seemed to be, checking the glove for something. What, I wasn't sure.

"Just curious about your thoughts, is all. We don't get newcomers to the city often."

My brow line furrowed and I took a long slow drag to finish off my cigarette. Smashing it down into the ashtray in the windowsill just opposite my guest, I took that chance to study the boy. He seemed so, contemplative; yet, relaxed. He wasn't telling me something. It may have been my first job as a city reporter, but not my first job in my life. This kid, he did want something from me. I rose to my full height again and shifted my weight to rest against the wall. Just beside the window. I watched the boy a moment longer.

"It's about the girl isn't it? The one, found last night. The one I have the case files for spread out over my desk."

I thumbed to the direction of my desk. It was burred with papers, folders, and photos. Somewhere was my keyboard to my computer. There were full ashtrays and old coffee mugs. I grimaced at the sight of it. I need a maid.

"Are you alright? You seem edgy."

I pulled my eyes back to Robin. Was that a dodge? No, I must've just been wrong. This case wouldn't mater to some like Batman. But then again, why would I? I was at a loss for answers.

"Fine, Kid."

I tried my best kid-friendly smirk on him. No reaction. I guess it wasn't as convincing as it needed to be. I would never get by being this transparent.

"It's not every day a hero wants something to do with me"

I felt rather, beside myself. He shouldn't have unnerved me so much, but the kid was powerful. He made me feel more small-town than even the cops had yesterday.

"Sorry for overwhelming you,"

Then I heard was could have been a laugh. But the street noise seemed to swallow it up. I pushed off the wall and headed to my desk. He was right. This all was turning out to be, overly whelming. I shoved around in my top draw to find another cigarette. Pressed it to my lips and turned back to the window. I sat on the edge of my clustered desk.

"It's fine. Really. It's me who should be sorry. Letting a kid get to me."

I scoffed at myself and raked my fingers through my hair again. My cigarette unlit. Hanging down from my lip.

"I just don't –I've never been in question before. You're my first kid. But tell me, honestly. Why are you here? New guys in town that big a deal 'round here?"

I watched him carefully. He turned to face me, still sitting outside the glass. Only his legs where inside my window, dangling like it was nothing new. Would I really have to invite him in?

"Gotham isn't exactly the friendliest city. Can you blame us for wanting to keep tabs on visitors?"

I found myself nodding. From all I had seen that was true. Too True. I closed my eyes and thought about that poor girl. Her big blue eyes icily staring up into nothing. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

"I guess I can see that. I guess then, I will answer anything you need."

He eyed me through the window. I felt like I was on the wrong end of zoo glass. My lip twitched into a half smile. Old habits die, hard. I wasn't use to being so fine tunely watched.

"The case files,"

My cigarette rocked forward until it bounced off my knee and onto the floor. I was right. Next time, I needed to remember to trust my gut more. I leaned forward, waiting for him to finish.

"The murder you've been reading up on. It may contain information I need."

I rose to my feet, and turned my back on the kid. I felt, beyond overwhelmed at this point. I turned back to him, stepping on my cigarette. I cursed myself, but ignored it as best I could. I took the hint that I really would have to invite him in. His sitting on my window just unnerved me.

"Why, - You know what? Come on in Kid. Let's get to the fine points here."

It took him a moment to except my request. But soon enough he was through the window and standing in the room. His arms crossed. I knew he could more than likely take me down. However, he just looked like a little kid, stuck in a grown up world. He was guarded.

"I was hoping you might let me look through it,"

He raised an eyebrow. I felt heat wash over my face, as I looked back over my shoulder, and remembered what kind of desk I had. I knew his reaction had been at the state the desk was in. I coughed slightly and turned to face him. The window still letting the thick city air spill into the room. I shrugged and smiled. Picked up my cigarette that I had walked on, and moved to behind my desk.

"I know how it looks, But trust me. It's a working system."

I sat down in my chair and motioned for him to join me, in one of the small over stuffed chairs I had across the desk. It was worn. Instead of waiting on him, I got to work pulling the pages together. I tucked the pictures I had taken myself in the folder. Putting the crime scene investigators photos over them. I wasn't sure if I was even aloud to take my own. I did anyways. I had statements, and records. My own scrawled notes and printed pages of her friends and family. Part of me wanted to just hand it over; the other, the part of me with gears that worked, turned and contemplated. I pressed the flattened unlit cigarette between my lips.

Out of the corner of my eye, he moved. I lifted my gaze to find him, without lifting my head. He sat in the other chair. I smirked at his choice. He liked to do things his own way. I would have to make a note of that. He sat like a child would in the chair; Body forward, elbows to knees, head in hand. Even with the mask, he was but a boy.

"You've been busy,"

His voice nonchalant, as he eyed the papers I was shuffling around. I could see a gleam almost grow. He wanted this information more than he wanted to breath in the next moment. I stopped what I was doing and erected my back fully so I was watching him out right. My gears still turning, only faster now.

"And, what will happen to me? When you are all said and done, once you look through here…"

He leaned away from me. Resting back into the chair. The gleam left his eyes. He grew cold. I could all but feel the shift in him.

"Nothing,"

He shook his head, just enough to tussle his hair side to side.

"Whether this information helps me or not, I was never here."

It was my move. I pressed myself back into the chair, getting a better look at the kid. I rolled my cigarette as best I could between my lips. Then lit it. I had to make this work for me. I knew if I just handed over all my work, I would never see the light of it. This city was going to swallow me whole, whether I liked it or not. But at least I could fight back. I took a short drag of my cigarette before pulling it away from me.

Robin eyed me, raising his eyebrow slightly. Dishelving his mask slightly, but then again, not. The mask more seemed to rise with it.

"Is that a problem for you?"

I could see the, distrust, building. I knew it would. I had to walk softly now, or risk undoing myself. I took my cigarette back in my lips. It wasn't a problem out right. But I'd be damned if this city washed me out in my first week. I swallowed a cloud of smoke and trailed it out through my nose.

"How am I suppose to make it by then? I know you have your job, but kid; this is mine."

I held up the folder. Smoke trailed up the side of my face. I dropped the papers back down on the desk and crossed my arms over my chest. My gears still turning, then, as if like lightening, it struck me.

"What about a bargain then? Information, for information."

His eyes narrowed, pulling the mask down tight around his nose. I could see he wanted to walk away. But he had to save face. He wanted this information, no, he /needed/ this information.

"What kind of information are you looking for?"

I nodded. For the first time in this place, I had the upper hand. I wasn't about to let it walk –jump out my open window. I exhaled a large spiral of smoke over my shoulder.

"An Interview. One on one. I want at least one good story out of seeing that -out of this case. And if it isn't the case it self, let me at least have this. Nothing that can be traced or tracked back to you and Batman, or to harm either of you in any way. Just some, personal, questions your fans might be dying to know the answers to."

I watched him. He didn't squirm, or even flinch. His eyes are the only thing that changed. That narrow-eyed boy changed into one of deep thought. His blue eyes relaxed and glassed over. He was thinking. I had him. I was dead on about him wanting this case file. I wasn't asking for much. Just, what I needed to survive in this dog-eat-dog city. Gotham had me in a chokehold, and I was offering its youngest caped crusader a simple plea bargain.

Then, he raised his head. Held my eyes fully. I watched him focus in on me. I could almost see my own reflection staring back at me in that deep masked blue eyes. I blinked away the smoke that was still puffing up from my cigarette as he nodded shortly.

"Fine. You have a deal."

A laugh escaped my chest before I even knew what happened. I pulled my fingers through my hair and smiled. That night, as lonely as it started out, was turning into the best one of my life. I pushed back into my chair fully. Relaxing it. Another laugh seeped out of me. I rubbed my jaw line. The kid's face seemed set. He wasn't pleased. Not like I was. Nothing like I was. I let my hands lock behind my head, as I inhaled deeply from my cigarette.

"So, tell me, How long do your nights run? Got an hour or two to waste?"

I could tell right away the kid didn't like the sound of that. He turned his eyes to the window. Then back at me. I could feel the tension rise in the air as I waited. I was practically on the metaphoric edge of my chair.

"I never have time to /waste/. But I suppose I can stick around, if it means I can see some of those files."

I smirked. The kid had wit. Or maybe he meant it. At the time, what did I know? I leaned my chair forward, and picked up the file. The gears turning at full speed now. I had to work this, like a good old fashion date. Nice and slow. This needed to be milked for all it's worth. Page for page.

"Alright, point taken. No time wasting it is then."

I opened the folder out onto the desk. Looking down at the pages in front of me, I studied the pictures and text. Nice and slow. I picked up the picture I took my self of that poor girls face and slid it across the top of my desk. Leaving atop the mess.

"Here, we can start with this."

I watched his eyes fall from me to the picture. Without so much as a word, he picks it up. He scanned the picture corner to corner without so much as blinking for what felt like forever. He seemed pleased with it. Like he was right about his choice in coming to find me. I was about to become his greatest lead. While he was about to become my one way ticket to easy street.

He glanced up at me, with a swift nod. Never picking his head up fully from the downward glance he had.

"It's a start,"

He paused. Taking that time to fully look up at me. His face never changing.

"What do you want to know?"

Without skipping a beat I smirked. Pulling in a slow drag from my cigarette. I reached for my top drawer and pulled out an ink pen and a small spiral bound notebook. It was old fashioned. But it gave me comfort. Just like my dad did before me, so would I. I flipped the pages till I found one blank and tapped the pad.

"I want to know, what makes you tick. But let's start small shall we? Tell me, for the record, -Robin right?"
The kid laughed at me. No, more snickered. It wasn't spiteful, more so endearing. I felt more old in that moment that I should have.

"Of course I am. Get traught,"

I scrawled across the paper, Interview: Robin. The paused. My brow furrowed and I left my lips tilt down in a half frown.

"Traught huh? You know what. Let's –let's leave that for now. For now, let us learn more about you. Let's see, you don't seem to be 'super' out right. Is that true?"

I could feel the kid's eyes on me. I kept my down, on the paper as he spoke.

"No, I don't have any powers."

I quickly jotted down his response and looked up at him. Meeting his eyes.

"Interesting response. Was that a dodge to my direct question or – does the term super not apply to all heroes?"

He corked his eyebrow up at me. My lack of hero exposure was showing. Badly.

"You don't need powers to be 'super',"

I nodded. That response wasn't just about heroes. I felt a touch of shame spread. This kid was, smart. More wise in the ways of the world than even I seemed to be. He truly was some one to look out for. Who ever he was.

"Very true. Very Wise, "So tell me then: other than the heroes; who is some one you, your self, look up to?"

I watched the surprise wash over the kid's eyes. Not his face. Just his eyes seemed to be his expression point. Like he had trained his face to stay blank. But naturally he was just easy to read.

"Who I look up to.../other/ than the heroes?"

He seemed to be talking more to himself than me. So I took that time for myself. Quickly filling in my paper with notes. I quoted the kid directly with every phrase. I wanted this story to be, hard hitting, and dead on. I knew this young boy had kids half his age, who looked up to him. They needed to know that he was human, like them. They needed to believe they could be, in a since, just like him.

"No one."

I froze. The abruptness of his response stopped me dead. Who was he trying to kid? I looked, taking his gaze head on and laughed. Out right. Without dropping his stare.

"No one? That's a bit, harsh don't you think? No one other than the heroes, push you to try and be better? You have never found some words to live by that weren't written or spoken by one of the heroes?"

I really seemed to have stumped the kid. I watched his eyes glass over. He seemed to distance himself with thought. Placing his hand on his chin lightly, his head falling slightly to one side, as if some where in the distance he would find his answer. I wrote that down. It seemed right.

"Hmm..."

His voice was just as distant as his eyes. I watched him try and find something that wouldn't give too much of himself away. I knew that's what was holding him back. After another beat or two of my heart, he turned back to me. I inhaled from my cigarette as he spoke.

"I guess...'never give up' is the simplest I can put it."

I let the smoke trace the curve of my mouth and lips as I opened my mouth. It plumed up wards like a flower.

"Never give up. Alright, fair enough. I guess it's my turn to share again then isn't it"

The kid's –Robin's, I really should use his name more, Robin's face lit up with a smile. From his eyes to his lips. He really was like an open book. Open, and obvious.

"That would be appreciated. Information for information."

I nodded with amusement. Looked down at my open folder and thumbed through the pages. I would have to give him something of value. But nothing that could be overly important or I would lose my edge. I picked up a few of the crime scene pictures and held them out right.

With out a thought, he reached out and took them from me. Shuffling through them. Taking the time to study each one. I stayed still, only moving to remove my cigarette from my lips long enough to lick them before putting it back. His face was as blank as before. But his eyes, I could see the joy for new information. Only after he scanned each one mentally did he turn back to me. With a nod he spoke clearly.

"Alright, continue."

I nodded back in response. I could have sat and watched him study for hours. It was like, learning another person. I raked my fingers through my hair. He was like, having my own kid before me. I hadn't any, but that, is how I think it would feel. Maybe not, what would I know of kids?

"Alright. Tell me, if you don't have powers, what do you fight crime with? What is your go to for day saving?"

I tucked my pen behind my ear. Pulling my cigarette off my lip. I was working my way down this one, slower than the others from that night. I smirked at it, before pulling a deep inhale. I watched the embers burn through the paper fast. Ashes dropping.

The kid smirked at me again. I could feel the joy spread throughout the room like a heat wave. Then, before my eyes he pulled out a small weapon from some where unknown to me. My eyes were never fast enough.

"Gadgets. All built by me or Batman."

I leaned forward, as far as I could on to my desk. I had never seen something like that before. It glinted in the dim light. I tried to act as if I hadn't just turned into a 6 year old but, I knew I had been too obvious about it. Robin let it fall back into his hand, and wrapped it loosely under his fingers. He was watching me closely with those joyous eyes. He was teasing me.

"Built by you, huh? And that is all you use?"

He nodded, a single nod at me.

"Made by Batman and I, yes. But, this isn't the only thing we use. We have a variety of resources, depending on the situation."

I blinked a few times, still trying to regain what I had lost. I rubbed my jaw line, scratching at my unshaven chin. I took another slow drag, and let the smoke ease out from my lips before I pulled my pen back out and wrote down more information. I pressed my pen butt to my lips, my cigarette off to one side. Thinking still about that small weapon. My eyes strayed from my paper back to Robin's hand. I knew he could see me. I wasn't trying hard to hide it. I caught a glimpse of his smirk, and silent laughter at my clear interest. I met his eyes and smirked back.

"For Dynamic Duo use only,"

He was smug. But I liked it. I nodded in response, letting him know I meant no harm.

"Look but don't touch."

I nearly choked on my smoke. I pulled the cigarette from my lips and tapped it clean into the closest ashtray. Dropping my eyes away from Robin.

"Kid, don't harass me. You're like, under half my age."

I met his eyes again and smiled. Letting him know it was half in jest.

"I've just never, seen anything like it. You know?"

I set my pad down on my desk, off to side, out of the way some. I leaned in, resting my elbows down on the desk, holding my cigarette above my head slightly. Leaning in as close as I could to read the boy's face. His eyes darted away from mine. He seemed to squirm in his chair. So I sat back, finished off my cigarette before dropping it in to the ashtray. I let it burn it self out. Without looking up I pulled my paper back to me

"So, you must know how to throw a mean punch then?"

I heard him rustling in his chair still and I looked up at him. I caught the end of his nod.

"Of course. It's a necessity."

He had real humor. I liked his spunk. I shuffled through the pages in front of me again. Found the printed record of the nine-one-one call and the dispatch response. I coughed, more to myself than to really clear the air. I then held it out for him to take. He was becoming easier to read than the children's book. He snatched the paper right from me. Reading each page, carefully yet quickly. Once he felt it was thoroughly searched over he responded to me with more detail.

"I've studied a variety of martial arts, I doubt you've even heard of most of them."

Some how that hit me all kinds of wrong. My jaw tightened and I rocked back in my chair. Eyeing the kid. I felt my teeth grind against each other, pushing my jaw line out harshly. I tucked my hands back behind my head and nodded. It was time. I rose to my feet and held out my hand to the kid. He had poked fun at me enough for my pride to stand.

"Well, it was nice working with you kid. You know were to find me if you have anything else you need."

I knew I would be kicking myself later, but I wasn't about to take this. Not from a snot-nosed brat. Hero or not. Story or not. I had my pride, as damned as I would be for it. He wasn't even looking at me. He raised his head back up to look at me with shock in his masked eyes.

"This is all you have from the case file?"

I really would kick my self. But I wasn't about to fall for it. That had been a petty jab. Yeah I was small town. I didn't know much in the ways of the world. But who was this kid to tell me. Rub my nose in it like I was just some pup. This wasn't my first walk around.

"And you have no more questions?"

I held my hand true. Locking in on his eyes.

"Oh, no I have more. But I think we are done here."

That was the driving point. He rose and took my hand. His grip was firm and with a single shake he let me know he wasn't backing down.

"I see."

Robin dropped my hand and turned away from me. He was silhouetted against the night-lights of the city. His back nothing but a dim shadow as he walked to the open window.

"Thank you for the information,"

I couldn't see him all that well. Hell I could hardly see him at all. The only lights were from my desk, and outside. He was facing one, and had his back to the others. But I heard the sound of what I think was his boot resting on my windowsill.

"Enjoy your stay in Gotham."

I didn't speak. I had nothing to say that wouldn't put my foot in my mouth. And with that, he was gone. The sounds of the city seemed to rush in all at once. I had forgotten them while I was across from the boy. But now with nothing but my own notes staring back at me I could hear the hate again. This city was going to swallow me whole, and I think I just gave up the fight.