This is a sequel of sorts to No One Said Flying Was Easy, though it's really just a collection of short stories. It's not like my other story, Age of Justice, (which takes place during season one of Young Justice with the original team) as some of these will be quite lengthy. I'm considering it a sequel only because it takes place during Dick's first year as Robin, immediately after my first fic. This one includes the Justice League. In fact… here they are!
Disclaimer: Too awesome for me to own.
Justly Surprised
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The resounding chime of a centuries old clock echoed through otherwise silent rooms, marking the hour at four in the afternoon. The mansion these rooms belonged to were, for the most part, devoid of life. The only ears to hear the familiar notes of "Westminster Quarters" were those of the Manor's aged and faithful caretaker.
Alfred Pennyworth had spent his morning much like any other. He had checked the security of the grounds, attended to the preparation of a healthy breakfast, watered the garden and removed the weeds from the flowerbeds, insured the kitchen was spotless, and a thousand other small things that did nothing to make the passing time any less dull.
It had been four days since the old butler had felt any sort of bounce in his steps, and he could tell the man he had raised was feeling quite the same. Although Alfred was careful not to show it as openly as his first charge, he had been brooding his fair share following an unnaturally quiet Monday night.
The shadows had seemed to grow each day regardless how many curtains were thrown back to let in the sun.
Alfred stood in Wayne Manor's entryway alternating between dusting and straightening umbrellas, boots, and winter coats. Knowing he was completely alone, he didn't bother to hold back a sigh at the last ringing chime. Master Bruce would be off in an hour unless he chose to work late and there would be another evening of silence and discontented scowls.
And for once the billionaire would be unable to take his frustrations out on Gotham's criminal population.
They hadn't gotten wise to Batman's recent foul mood and had put their bigger schemes on hold. Only two bit muggers and independent drug dealers remained in operation at the moment. Not nearly challenging enough for the aggravated Bat.
There had been talk of a visit to the Watchtower earlier. Alfred suspected the younger man was hoping for some international crisis to distract him… so long as it was cleaned up by ten.
That was the only time either man came out of the darkened atmosphere they had created. At least until Saturday, a day away. Everything would go back to the way it should when…
"Alfred!" A bright excited voice interrupted his musings while effectively surprising him, a feat in and of itself.
The butler turned just in time to be tackled around the waste by brilliant ball of energy and light that seemed to force the shadows away. Alfred had instinctively caught the small bundle of cheer in an embrace to keep both from losing their balance; but when his mind fully registered what exactly was attached to him like Velcro, he wrapped his arms around the boy in a rare hug.
"Master Richard," he tried to sound casual but couldn't help the smile that leaked into his words, "We weren't expecting you back so early. A phone call and I could have fixed a pot roast with trimmings as a special treat."
Dick pulled back to give the older man a blinding smile… something both he and Master Bruce had missed sorely.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," Dick explained, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. He gave another tight squeeze before pulling back and holding one of Alfred's hands in both of his. He was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet as he said, "It was so much fun, Alfred! We went skiing and snowboarding, but I liked ice-skating the best. It was kind of like the trapeze, except on the ground you know; but the wind blows in your face so it feels like your flying, and I could still do a bunch of twirls and jumps and Babs got kind of jealous, which was funny. And then we stayed in this lodge and had hot chocolate like every night, and-"
Alfred chuckled softly at the child's enthusiastic rambling. The Manor had been much too quiet the past few days. However…
"Master Richard," Alfred interrupted gently, "I would love to hear about everything that you have been doing in your absence. But perhaps we would be more comfortable in the kitchen with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies? After we have your winter gear properly stowed, of course."
Dick blinked for a second before smiling again. A light blush of embarrassment reddened his already rosy cheeks. "Right, sorry," he glanced towards the door where a small, colorful suitcase sat to the side- his parents' suitcase- and then back up, "Should I take my bag upstairs too?"
"I think it shall be fine where it is for now, sir," Alfred assured as he helped the boy out of the light blue coat, damp with snow. It appeared the young master had frolicked in the fresh powder before coming indoors. Happy to be home, no doubt.
As soon as the heavy clothes were stored by the entrance and Dick had ruffled his hair, tamed by his woolen hat, to its usual mess he followed Alfred to the kitchen on socked feet. He wasted no time in hopping onto one of chairs at the small table.
Alfred, always quick and efficient in the kitchen, had the promised snack set before them within two minutes and was soon seated across from the boy who's return had been anxiously awaited from the minute he left. It wasn't often that the butler allowed himself to rest in another's presence, but for occasions such as this he found he didn't mind.
Dick, as was often the case, was the first to break the silence. "I really missed you when I was gone," he told the other, "You and Bruce."
"And we you, Master Richard," Alfred agreed solemnly. You have no idea how much, he refrained from voicing. In fact, the way things had gone from their end, the older gentleman was confident it would be a good long while before Bruce let him leave for an extended period.
But those discussions would come later once the young master was out of earshot. For now…
"Tell me, what did you think of the ski lift, Master Richard?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Somewhere amidst recounting his adventures, licking melted chocolate from his fingers, and laughing at the times he and Barbara had run into each other while learning to ski Dick happened to glance at the clock on the stove and his eyes lit up.
"Bruce will be home soon," he interrupted his own story telling to proclaim.
Alfred nodded without having to look and stood to clear away the now empty dishes. "So he shall, sir," he gave a small smile, "And seeing that I have allowed myself to be pleasantly distracted, dinner will be served later than our usual time." Dick frowned and started to apologize but he barely got the chance to open his mouth. "There is no need for that, Master Richard; I'm quite sure Master Bruce will be so pleased at your arrival that he won't notice the lateness of the meal."
Dick watched as the butler began pulling out ingredients and cooking utensils. His legs were kicking back and forth as his mind tried to supply an image of Bruce's face when he found him home a day before he was supposed to be. They'd had to leave early to beat a storm front or else they would have been three days later than expected. He doubted Bruce would have liked that.
Dick wouldn't have wanted that either, despite how much fun he'd had. Four days without flying as Robin he could handle; seven was entirely too much time away.
He loved being Robin for many reasons, even if he'd only had the mask since Christmas. He saved people practically every night; though that would change when school started again. He had cool weapons and an awesome costume. The grapple allowed him to soar like he had on the trapeze before his parents had… left him. And most importantly, it was a way to spend more time with Bruce.
The train of thought was making Dick antsy to get out there and kick some bad guys' butts and he fidgeted in his seat. "Hey, Alfred?"
"Yes?"
"… Do you think Bruce would let us patrol tonight?"
Alfred didn't seem surprised by the question. "I don't believe he intended to go into the city at all tonight, sir," the older man informed him, "Crime has been slow these last few days. Master Bruce was considering a visit to the League, I believe."
Dick perked up from where he had slumped in disappointment. "The Justice League?" he questioned with a hint of excitement, "Do they have a mission or something."
"Not to my knowledge."
"Oh," Dick pursed his lips with a wistful, faraway look, "I wish I could meet them. That would so cool…"
"Indeed," Alfred said with a small smile. He knew that quite a few of the League's founding members, the ones who knew Batman's identity, had been anxious to meet the boy from the moment it had come to light that he would be staying with Bruce Wayne permanently. They hadn't heard about Robin yet, but it was only a matter of time.
A few minutes passed in silence before Dick became restless. It wasn't long before his squirming became audible over the sound of sizzling meat and Alfred shook his head fondly. It was roughly a ten hour drive from Gotham to the mountain lodge where the Gordon family had invited the boy to vacation with them. Ten hours sitting still in a car for an overly energetic eight-year-old… Good Lord, it was a miracle he wasn't bouncing off the walls and rounding off cartwheels in the den.
"Might I suggest, Master Richard," Alfred spoke up, "that you adjourn downstairs. You can practice some of your routines and wait to surprise Master Bruce for his pre-dinner workout."
It was hard to tell which was brighter at this proposal, Dick's smile or his eyes. He jumped out of his seat as though he had been just barely restraining himself. Alfred suspected he had only stayed because he didn't want to appear anxious to leave so soon after returning, dear boy. But as soon as his feet touched the floor he was across the kitchen to give the older man one last hug before racing out the door with a, "Bye, Alfred, you're the best!"
Long after the pattering footsteps had faded, the light that the child had brought with him remained to fight off the shadows.
And Alfred wondered to himself how they had ever been able to live in the darkness the absence of that special light brought.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
After hours and hours of riding in Commissioner Gordon's minivan, Dick had started to feel he would literally burst in the kitchen with Alfred. Like a bottle of soda with a mento inside; he had put a cap on his energy and soon would have exploded in the need to get it out. Alfred didn't need to clean up the mess that would've caused.
But now, after running at maximum speed all the way to the training mats and taking down every dummy in sight- except for the ones with the bat and 'R' on their chests- he felt close to 'normal-overactive' as opposed to 'swinging-from-the-chandelier-overactive'. Once he'd calmed down, Dick began work on the battle routines Bruce had been teaching him before the trip. But after five minutes he came to the conclusion that it wasn't the same without his mentor there to help with his form.
Bored with training now that he'd depleted his energy stores, the young acrobat strolled his way back to the computer and bounced between the worktables to see if Bruce had started anything new while he was gone. It found it slightly odd that nothing had even been worked on but ignored it as soon as he caught sight of the one object in the cave that never failed to make his heart soar.
His Robin outfit was a mixture of everything he needed to stay safe while remaining true to his bright personality.
Happy, toned colors of red and yellow were his input. The shade of the vest reminded him of an actual Robin's breast. The canary yellow peaked out from the inside of the cape and matched his utility belt and the 'R' that rested over his heart when wearing it. Everything else about the suit was black; from the outside of the cape, to the boots, to the gloves. With one flip of the fabric meant to hang around his neck he could become as invisible as Batman in the shadows.
Aside from looking extremely cool, Bruce had designed the costume to keep its wearer as safe as possible. Lined with Kevlar, flame retardant in the event of fire or explosions, steel-toed boots for that added insurance of a knockout kick. Not to mention all the gadgets stowed in the pockets of his belt.
Dick carefully opened the glass door of the case and trailed his fingers along the clasps. Four days since he last wore it. Fun filled days, yes… but still.
Glancing over his shoulder at the computer's clock he considered how much time he'd have until Bruce made it down the stairs. Fifteen minutes? Half an hour at the most?
He turned back to his costume and stared into the whites of his domino mask…
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Dick couldn't hold back the happy laugh that escaped his throat as he bounced around the room. The feeling of the cape fluttering behind him made a grin spread across his face that couldn't be forced away. There was no loss of things to discover in the cave and Dick- no, Robin; in costume he was Robin- was exploring now as he ran and leapt from one flat surface to the next.
Before long however he ran out of things to jump on and reluctantly dropped to the floor. The area he had come to wasn't the end of the cave by any means, but it was relatively clear. Robin frowned and tilted his head when he saw a… tube?... sticking out of the wall. It was big enough for a person to stand inside and seemed to have electric lights embedded in the walls. But that didn't make sense because it was a dead end.
Was Batman building a secret passage or something?
Before he could really think about what he was doing, Robin had approached the entrance of the tube and rested one gloved hand on the cool metal side. He looked over his shoulder to the direction he'd come from. He probably wasn't supposed to be back here; after all, Batman had never mentioned anything about this… project.
But curiosity can get the better of even the most responsible superhero protégés.
So without further thought, Robin stepped into the opening. The last thing he saw was a bright white light as a computer echoed in his ears.
"Recognized…"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Bruce had not been having a good day.
Or a good week if he were being honest. Though according to his secretary his problem since Monday had been that he was too honest. 'Brutally honest' were her exact words.
If he didn't like a business deal, he said it. If he found the board members arguments were dull and pointless, he made it known. If he thought an associate's toupee was glaringly obvious… well, that one may have been a little too blunt.
But at least people had gotten the message. Bruce Wayne was not in a good mood and it would be beneficial to the sensitive people to stay far away until it passed.
Lucius Fox was obviously the only person in his employ that could handle 'brutally honest'.
The man had been watching him closely since Monday, when the monster had first made its appearance. In their private meeting Wednesday morning he had finally broached the subject with the simple question of, "So what happened to Dick?"
Since then he had appeared overly amused anytime someone, himself included, had been subjected to Bruce's short fuse.
Bruce let out a sigh as he approached the gates of his home. At least the day was over; that meant he had just one more to endure before his boy would be back.
From the moment Gordon's car had pulled out of the driveway Bruce had regretted agreeing to the trip. Four days hadn't seemed that long in the preparation, but with the last hug he had realized how daunting it was. The shadows had seemed to descend the second the door closed.
Dick was leaving; anything could happen to him in four days. He could be kidnapped. He could get into an accident and break his leg or wrist or neck. He could be caught in an avalanche, frozen and suffocating. It could even be something as simple as a nightmare. The point would remain the same.
Bruce wouldn't be there for him.
And every day that passed a single thought had run through his mind at least once. What would happen if Dick didn't make it home? The shadows would never leave, he knew. They would only get darker and darker. And Bruce would probably lose himself entirely.
He tried to push those thoughts away as he parked and stepped out of the car. He frowned for a moment when he noticed the tire tracks imprinted in the light powdering of snow on the driveway. He didn't remember Alfred saying anything about errands. Then again, they hadn't really talked much since Monday.
He sighed as that was yet another example of why he should've looked away at the first sign of the puppy-dog eyes.
Bruce mounted the steps at a light jog and frowned yet again when he found the door unlocked. Usually Alfred would let him use his key to get in; there was always the risk that he would work late and not have time to call. And though security breaches were unlikely, they weren't impossible.
But he pushed it aside again and walked through to the entryway… and froze.
Something was different here, he was sure. But for the life of him he couldn't figure it out. It was almost as though the shadows had… receded. But that didn't make sense.
"Alfred?" Bruce called uncertainly as he closed the door and hung his jacket in its spot. He made his way to the kitchen when he received no answer and was surprised to find Alfred working on dinner.
Shouldn't he be finished by now?
"Alfred?" It was the first time this week Bruce's voice had changed out of Batman mode when addressing the butler. But he was, admittedly, confused.
"Good evening, Master Bruce," Alfred greeted… pleasantly? That was the first time this week the older man had sounded anything but stoic. "I apologize that dinner will be served a bit later this evening," he was still talking, "I found myself caught up in conversation and time simply got away from me."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Conversation," he intoned slowly, as though he wasn't sure what to make of that.
"Yes, sir," Alfred turned his head slightly to give a small, secretive smile. Bruce almost had to do a double-take. "There is still quite a bit more to be done," he informed the billionaire, "You should have plenty of time for your workout." A twinkle appeared in the Englishman's eyes as though the word 'workout' had some inside joke that only he knew about.
Alfred turned back to his food as though this decided the end of their conversation and Bruce, with no clue how to continue anyway, left the room for the den's entrance to the Cave. As he descended the carved, stone steps he wondered who Alfred had talked to that had succeeded in lightening his mood… and apparently the rest of the house.
A phone call from Dick didn't seem the likely answer. Those had only worked until the boy said good night through a yawn and hung up; then the shadows would be back and they would have nothing to look forward to until the next night.
Perhaps Leslie?
But Alfred didn't look ill, and he wouldn't have invited the long-time family doctor over if he weren't already in a good mood. Alfred would never present himself to his not-so-secret crush with a sour expression if the call were social. And didn't really want to think about the implications of the 'workout' comment if it had been her visiting.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs Bruce hesitated briefly before heading to the showers. He had left his suit there for the past two short nights. There was no sense in making Alfred clean it- a complicated process he'd been told multiple times- if it wasn't out long enough to get dirty.
He had been planning to wait until after dinner to Zeta to the Watchtower, but he felt the oncoming thoughts of Gordon's car crashing on the freeway on the trip back and decided Alfred wouldn't mind having to keep the meal warm. He needed a distraction badly and was thinking a nice, mediocre alien invasion would be sufficient.
As he pulled the cowl over his head he thought somewhat irritated, I just hope the only alien invasion doesn't involve the overgrown Boy Scout invading my personal space.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Recognized, Robin B01."
Robin blinked hard until he could see clearly again. The white light of the machine was reminiscent of a camera flash going off in his face. Not to mention the strange sensation of pins and needles all over his body.
He frowned as he inspected his arms and hands, wondering what exactly had happened to him. Had the machine scanned him for DNA or something? No, it would've said Richard Grayson if that were the case. It had said 'recognized' though… so, was his DNA already in it? And if so what was the purpose of the machine?
With a slightly frustrated sigh, Robin stepped out of the tube… and felt his body freeze up.
This was not the Bat-cave. This was to… white to be the Bat-cave. It was to spotless, too clear. There were no bats, no craggy walls, he could see the ceiling… even if it was pretty high. There was also a big circle, with letters he couldn't make out from this angle, carved into the floor at the center of the room he was in. And lots of open archways leading in different directions.
Robin's eyes darted back and forth behind his mask as he chewed on his bottom lip. He had the feeling he wasn't supposed to be here… wherever here was.
He took a hesitant step forward and then looked back to where he'd come from. There was a tube similar to the one in the cave. If he stepped inside this one, would it send him back?
He straightened up as much as he could in his nervousness and tried to prepare himself for the brightness and the prickly feeling that would follow.
But his sharp ears picked up the sound of footsteps coming from a hallway to the right and Robin felt his eyes widen. If he stepped into the tube, the computer would probably 'recognize' him and whoever was coming would know he'd been there. He really didn't want to get into trouble. And considering he didn't know where he was, it was possible the steps belonged to a bad guy… or girl, judging by the sound of the shoes.
Robin shot a look at the entrance the sound was coming from and moved quickly, silently, to the opening directly across from it. He was careful to stick to the walls as he walked, keeping his eyes and ears open for more unknown parties to come his way. Unfortunately, though, the hall was wide and well-lit with no place to hide if someone should come.
Luck was on his side as he made it to the end of the hall and cautiously peeked around the opening. He barely kept his jaw from dropping at the enormous computer terminal spread before him.
There were monitors of all shapes and sizes crammed together in some places and spaced out in others. The keyboards were all holographic like the kind Batman used; the kind that was installed in his gloves. He counted only three chairs, situated in a triangle of sorts. Whoever worked here must've stood to do most of their research.
Speaking of which…
Two men were in this room. Robin could hear their voices carry throughout the room, but he couldn't make out distinct words. They were too far away to see details about their features. All he could really tell was that one was wearing a bright red jumpsuit and the other seemed to have something strapped to his back.
Robin frowned and inched his way into the room. There was another door directly to the side of the computers… more of an arch actually. And the men were facing the other way, distracted. Maybe he could find an air vent to hide in. He could use one to get back to that first room; back to the tube.
With all the stealth that Batman had taught him in their months of training, he made it to the opening and allowed a small smirk of triumph. He stood out of his crouch, though remained hunched, and turned to go down this new hallway…
Only to smack right into someone coming out.
Robin jumped back with a barely muffled squeak and got ready to run as he took in the heavily muscled figure in front of him. But then his eyes traveled upward and he felt his eyes widen in shock. That costume, the hair, the eyes, the fact that he was floating…
Robin took a small half-step back and finally released a shaky gasp. "You… You're…"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Superman had spent his day by putting out a fire at a packing plant, freeing a group of hostages at a bank robbery, stopping a bomb from activating at a public train station, saving a certain unnamed female reporter from what would have been a fatal fall from a sixteen story high-rise… all while struggling to keep his cover as a nerdy journalist and actually get some writing done to keep said cover. In other words, everything had been perfectly normal.
He was still exhausted.
He'd come to Watchtower at Wonder Woman's request and had been vaguely annoyed when she explained why. Apparently she had had a run-in with Batman two days before and was concerned because he seemed unusually aggravated. It had taken every piece of farm boy charm his mother had taught him not to scoff.
Batman didn't need a reason to be aggravated. He was Batman. His whole aura practically screamed 'aggravated-without-a-cause'.
Although Superman had noticed the change in his dark friend since it became public knowledge that Bruce Wayne had taken in a kid, he still had his moods on occasion. They normally didn't last more than a day or two now. He was sure this time would be no different…
But just in case it was, the Kryptonian had assured the princess he would pay a visit to the Bat before heading back to Metropolis.
As he floated down the hall to cut through the Monitor Room, he tried to mentally prepare himself for Batman's version of a temper tantrum. He always had a small one when Superman, or any hero really, came over unannounced. Superman could just handle them better than the others.
So lost in his thoughts, Superman didn't notice he had bumped into anyone until he heard a smothered squeak that sounded similar to a hiccup. He looked down and blinked in surprise when he saw a boy, no more than seven most likely, standing in front of him with a slightly fearful expression.
Seeing any child in the Watchtower was surprising in and of itself; it should have been impossible. But what really threw the alien… was the outfit.
Form-fitting top and leggings. Steel-toed boots. A yellow, pocketed belt. A mid-length cape… And a domino mask.
The boy took a half-step back and Superman could see how the whites of the mask widened with his eyes as he let out a shaky gasp of air. "You… You're…" the kid seemed at a loss for words. His face had gone a bit pale and his mouth just hung open for a moment; almost as if he couldn't decide whether to be awed or terrified.
Finally he seemed to get a hold of himself and gulped audibly before letting out a whispered, "Superman."
The Kryptonian blinked, before pushing his confusion to the side. He lowered his feet to the ground and knelt before the boy, who took another step back. Superman made sure to keep his face open and kind as he spoke. "That's right," he said gently, "I see you know my name… Can you tell me yours?"
The boy opened his mouth to reply, hesitated, before quietly mumbling, "Robin, my name is Robin."
Superman had no trouble hearing it with his abilities and offered a small smile, "Well, it's nice to meet you, Robin. Do you… know how you got here?"
Superman glanced past the boy to see Flash and Green Arrow watching from a safe distant, surprise and confusion evident on their faces. Robin frowned as he shot a look towards the hallway entrance, their audience going unnoticed by him.
"Not really," he answered slowly, "The tube thing just glowed really bright, and it felt weird too. It must have brought me here."
Superman felt his eyebrows raise involuntarily, "A Zeta-tube brought you here?"
Robin blinked and shrugged, "If that's… what they're called." Superman risked another look at his fellow heroes but this time the boy noticed and drew in a nervous breath. He wrapped his arms around himself and backed into the nearest wall, eyes darting between the three adults.
"Hey, it's okay," Superman reassured him, staying crouched and hopefully nonthreatening. "These guys aren't going to hurt you. They're the good guys too. You ever heard of the Flash and Green Arrow?"
Robin ignored the question and bowed his head with a grimace, "I… I need to go home. I just got back. I don't want him to be mad at me when I haven't even seen him yet." The League members had nearly identical expressions with their eyebrows furrowed. It seemed like the boy was mostly talking to himself, mumbling and biting his lip.
Flash was the one to voice the question they were all wondering. "Who are you talking about, exactly?"
Before the child could answer an automated voice echoed down the hall, "Recognized, Batman 02."
And Robin's head shot up in surprise.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Batman stepped out of the Zeta-tube ignoring the tingling after-effect. He scanned the area and suppressed a sigh as his hopes of crisis to handle were deflated. It seemed too quiet for there to be an emergency. Or anything remotely interesting for that matter.
He hesitated at the entrance for a moment. Should he go back and get started on his workout, or stay in the event that something would pop up?
His decision was made for him when the Flash literally 'popped up' in front of him with a strange look overtaking his face. "You know, Bats, you have impeccable timing," the speedster said crossing his arms, "There's a situation in the Monitor Room you might be interested in."
Batman kept his expression neutral, though inside he was smirking. Finally a distraction from his unfounded worries; after all, the Commissioner was an adequate driver. "How big is this situation?" he inquired in his usual growling tone.
Flash raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly before holding his hand to about mid-thigh height, "Oh, about ye-high with a miniature cape and some pretty dangerous looking shoes."
The Dark Knight allowed his lips to lower slightly as Flash sped back the way he'd come, leaving his fellow vigilante to follow. Batman didn't know what to expect with the 'miniature cape' comment but he was quite sure he wasn't expecting what he found.
Superman, Flash, and Green Arrow were gathered near the Monitor Room's other doorway; each had their arms folded in an attempt to hide the awkwardness they were feeling, and their gazes shifted back and forth between Batman and another figure standing against the wall. A much smaller figure.
Batman thought he heard Flash mumble something along the lines of, "I hope he doesn't scare the poor kid to death," to Green Arrow. The archer seemed to share his concerns, but Batman was paying them little attention.
As the cause of their 'situation' turned his face up Batman froze in shock.
The boy who appeared younger than his actual age approached the darkly dressed hero and stopped directly in front of him. The familiar pixie face turned up, mask wide and pleading.
"I'm sorry, Batman," the boy's voice shot out rapidly, "I didn't mean to come here. I was just playing in the Cave and waiting for you, and it had been so long since I wore my costume I thought it would be okay if I put it on for a little while. I was just curious of the tube thing I found, and then there was this light and it felt all prickly and then I was here and please don't be mad at me. I'm sorry!"
The heroes watching in the background were staring with blank expressions, not registering the words spoken as they tried to process the exaggerated gestures and rapid-fire syllables into coherent sentences.
Batman, however, understood… and it was all he could do to keep a grin from slipping through his mask. He did smile slightly as he knelt in front of the boy that was the cure to fighting the darkness. Everything from before made sense now.
The tire tracks, the unlocked door, Alfred's good mood…
Batman ignored the gaping stares of his peers as he raised a gloved hand to cup his protégé's cheek. At once the worry of rebuke left Robin's mind and he leaned into the touch even as he wrapped his own hand around his mentor's.
"You know the house was too quiet without you, Kiddo," he remarked in a voice that was more Bruce Wayne than Batman.
A smile that was all Dick Grayson appeared at his words and without warning a pair of skinny arms circled his neck. "I missed you too, Bruce," was whispered in his ear.
After a moment of letting the relief wash over him, Batman stood up to face their stunned audience. "Gentlemen," he addressed them while his hand rested on the boy's shoulder, "I would like to introduce you to Robin… my partner."
…
"Your WHAT?!"
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Note: I still have one chapter left to finish on No One Said Flying Was Easy, but rest assured it will get written! Also, given the lateness of the hour I am not proofreading... please ignore any mistakes. Thank you.