Warnings: This starts with a death that sets up the plot. Not to worry, it's none of the good guys. You may read with confidence.

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Too Far Gone Part One

"Dick, you ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure, just about. What's the hurry, something up?"

Bruce pulled his cowl into place. "There's a new report that Catwoman is out again; I'd say she's probably going to try for that big jewelry exhibit over at the auction house."

"Why there?"

"They have a number of Cartier pieces…"

Dick nodded as he finished getting into his gloves. "Of course; panther bracelets, leopard pins—I get it."

"Right, let's go."

Twenty minutes later they were in position on the roof across the street from Christie's Auction House, the Batmobile hidden in a warehouse around the corner. Waiting.

It was after ten, the streets weren't quite empty, a few stragglers wandered around after a late dinner or movie. Quiet talking between the pedestrians, car doors slammed closed. The city was shutting down and going to bed for the night, or most of it was, at any rate. There were always the bars, the midnight films, the parties in clubs and private homes. There were always people around. This was Gotham, after all; the city that never sleeps.

They waited.

An hour went by. It was getting chilly and Robin used his cape as a blanket. Maybe Alfred could line the thing with thinsulate or something this winter.

The two of them didn't speak, Batman, never chatty, hated to have his concentration broken unless it directly involved the case they were on or some kind of emergency. Robin knew the rules.

Another twenty minutes passed, the light breeze got stronger and the temperature dropped another ten degrees as they crouched, hidden by shadows. Robin felt his leg cramping, trying to stretch as silently as he could but still earning a dirty look for his efforts. He tried isometrics to ease his right thigh and back, rubbing his hands together to try to get the feeling back into his fingers.

It was after midnight, the traffic was almost gone, no one was walking the sidewalks other than a few stragglers.

They'd been here for two and a half hours.

By one-thirty Robin was starting to think that the stakeout had been a wash, that they'd be leaving soon and was secretly looking forward to the warmth of the Batmobile and getting into his own bed. Five-thirty always came around too early and he knew he had to put in at least an hour in the gym before breakfast every day before school. He was getting tired. He saw Batman shift and, thinking this was the signal to head down to the car and back to the barn, he straightened up, stretching and he stood. "Man, that was a waste of time, I thought I was frozen down in that crouch…"

The boy barely heard the soft scuff of feet about forty feet behind them before he was tackled from the side; Batman had him flat on his stomach as the shots started hitting the bricks above them, splinters flying. Then pushed and rolling behind a chimney as Batman's weight was suddenly off him. He continued the last roll into a ready stance on his feet, ready to enter the fight. He heard the sounds of fists—grunts, falling, bodies hitting solid walls and bouncing to hit the rooftop.

A stocky man, one of the henchmen tried to grab him from behind, a simple roundhouse kick putting him out as Robin spun, more than holding his own as he took down the four grown men who were left. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Batman giving chase over the side of the building, disappearing over the edge of the roof, batline shooting across the street and allowing him to cut off whoever was getting away. The rest of the gang tied and under control, Robin called in the local police to do clean up then ran to make sure Batman had the situation on the ground under control. Looking over the edge he stopped cold, staring down the five stories to the sidewalk.

Swinging down on his own line he landed lightly a few feet away. Batman was on the concrete, holding an unconscious Catwoman, blood clearly pooling and running to the gutter. Pulling out his radio again, Robin called in 911 and after asking for an ambulance STAT, knelt down.

"Is she badly hurt?"

Batman nodded, saying nothing, his breath coming out as steam in the frigid air.

"I called for medical help." They heard sirens coming closer. "The local cops; clean up." The explanation was unnecessary. "What happened?"

"She slipped, fell from the roof. I tried to catch her but I missed." It was said quietly; Robin knew he'd had a crush on Catwoman for a few years and they'd spared and flirted as long as he had known them both and they shared a grudging respect for each other. The last few months he'd started to think it went further than just a flirtation and this seemed to confirm it. Batman wasn't just holding her, he was embracing her.

He couldn't see her breath in the winter air.

Robin glanced to the right as the GCPD police got out of their cars. "Five suspects are on the roof and contained, we'll give our reports later. An ambulance is coming for her." He nodded towards the figure still being held by Batman.

A few moments later the paramedics were checking her pulse, bagging her, checking her injuries and finally getting out the defibrillator, trying to get her heart beating again. The medic leaned over with his stethoscope, listened. "Charge, again." They tried four times before giving up and moved to place her on the stretcher.

"No." Batman stopped them and tried himself, tried CPR. It went on for long minutes, two, three four, five. There was no response. Robin stood to the side out of the way, watching until the paramedics looked to him for help. He moved closer and touched a shoulder. "Batman." No response, no acknowledgement.

"Batman, stop."

Nothing, just the rhythmic pumping to get her heart started, keep the blood flowing.

The boy put his hand on Batman's, physically trying to remove it, stop what was happening but he was thrown off. He tried again; again he was thrown back, this time violently and he staggered before regaining his balance. The pumping went on, ten minutes, eleven. In the background, the radio crackled something that didn't sound like English but probably was.

Finally Robin took Batman's wrist in his hand again and, gently this time and with steady pressure, managed to pull it away. Batman sat back on his heels, defeated and not watching as the EMT's lifted her, placed her on the gurney, loaded her into the ambulance and closed the doors. Batman remained where he was, unseeing, as they pulled down the street.

"Come on Batman, it's time to go home."

Silently, Batman stood, walked to the Batmobile and got into the passenger seat. Taking his cue, Robin got behind the wheel and drove them home. Neither said anything and when the car was parked in the cave Batman got out, changed into street clothes and walked up the long staircase, disappearing into his suite.

TBC