A few months had passed since Bruce noted that he was getting headaches and things were getting a little blurry. It went without saying that going on nighttime patrol as the silent and dark angel of Gotham was getting increasingly difficult.

At first he thought nothing of it. It was most likely due to his long hours with little sleep. He was a busy man. Neither the corporate world nor the crime world would rest. So neither did Batman.

Bruce leaned back in his office chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't understand why the font of this document he was reading had to be so small. Weren't there guidelines, like MLA formatting for business documents? He couldn't really recall if there were. But he could recall a time when it wasn't a problem. Bruce had always been a quick reader, way before he became the World's Greatest Detective. In happier times, when they were still alive and he was but a young boy, he remembered spending long summer afternoons with a book.

But that was irrelevant now, he thought, shaking himself mentally. What did matter, though, was the fact that reading this long (and frankly, quite boring) document was taking twice as long as usual. It was designed to increase Wayne Enterprises' yearly revenue while also providing more jobs for the citizens of Gotham and the other parts of the world that his family's company had extended its reach. All-in-all, it was important that he get his signature on it in the very near future. However, he didn't trust anyone else to do the final proofreading. He didn't want to get screwed over. No one pulled the wool over his eyes. Ever.

At that moment, his League communicator decided it would be a fine time for it to start going off. Hostage situation. Just outside of Gotham.

Bruce allowed himself to indulge in an exasperated sigh. Today was going to be a long day. He could tell already.

Another warning sign came during patrol that night, what Robin and Kid Flash liked to call the "Dynamic Duo Thing".

That night they were chasing after the Penguin. As Batman had guessed, one of Gotham's famous criminals had been the mastermind behind the incident earlier today. The vigilante wasn't sure what Penguin's ultimate goals were, but he'd pick at that later. What mattered now was stopping the rotund man before any of his plans had time to succeed.

The chase was nearing its end. Both parties had started on wheels- Batman and Robin on their specialized motorcycles, the Penguin chauffeured in one of his grand cars that he so favored. After a deadly fast battle on the interstate, the car was no longer drivable, most of it littered with batarangs. When they had finally, finally, pierced the car tires (which Batman would have to examine later- they appeared to be much more than a standard tire), the car swerved, still trying to move forward with only the front wheels operating. After a large amount of wreckage later, they found it abandoned crushed against a building in the warehouse district. Clearly the occupants has resorted to travel on foot. Most of them, anyways. The driver was not fortunate enough to make it out of the crash alive.

Which led them to their current situation- running after the Penguin and his goons through many dark alleyways and over rooftops. He was, as Robin commented earlier, impressively fast on his stubby legs. Rounding another corner, the target was in sight, but just barely in the dark cover of the looming warehouses around them, not a single streetlight or security light within close range. But that didn't matter. Batman lived in the dark, became one with it. He had nothing to fear from it. Instinctively he pulled two batarangs out of his utility belt and threw them.

And missed.

By a lot.

The projectiles continued to fly off into the shadows, never making contact with their intended target.

He only had a few seconds to be mildly confused before a noise not to far away alerted him. He ran towards it, and he found Robin triumphantly tying up the Penguin's two accomplices, disarmed and knocked out.

"Where's Mr. Happy Feet?" Robin asked, expecting his mentor to have him hog-tied and ready for the Commissioner.

Batman merely narrowed his eyes. That was answer enough.

A few days after that, back at the Wayne Manor, Dick was trying his best to enjoy a rare day off, even rarer because Bruce was taking one with him. They had slept in today, and currently the Dynamic Duo was seated at the breakfast table in the kitchen. Alfred was making his special pancakes. Dick was on his phone, either texting or playing a game. Bruce couldn't tell which. Whatever it was, his ward found it extremely funny. Bruce was sitting across from the Boy Wonder, simultaneously reading the paper and listening to the news coming from the TV. Every once in a while he glanced up at the screen. Currently, a female news reporter was somewhere in Asia, reporting frantically about crimes with unusual circumstances. Behind her, a crowd of people were bustling about, going on with their daily lives while trying to avoid the roped-off investigation as much as possible. Suddenly, a figure attracted his attention, causing him to quickly pause the broadcast. God bless the man who invented DVRs.

"Dick," he said, "do you notice anything unusual in this picture?"

"Huh?" bright blue eyes unglued themselves from the handheld device.

"I thought I saw something but I'm not sure. Just take a look." Bruce rewound the program a few seconds then pressed play as his protege turned around in his seat to face the TV on the wall behind him. A few seconds passed when the 13-year-old exclaimed "There!"

"You saw something too."

"How could I have missed it? Bruce, that's Talia. I thought you'd recognize that face anywhere."

Bruce's brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. Dick was right. He should have spotted her first.

"If I may, Master Bruce," Alfred said in the way that only he could, setting plates of pancakes before the two men, "I think it's high time that you considered acquiring visual aid."

"There's no need for that. I can see fine. I always have. You know that, Alfred."

"Yes, sir, but I'm afraid I must remind you that you are not as young as you were, and the eyes age like the rest of the body does," the butler stated a matter-of-factly.

Dick snorted trying to hold back laughter, his mouth stuffed with pancakes. He was rewarded with a Bat Glare.

"Make an appointment." he told Alfred.

"Very well, Master Bruce."

"I feel ridiculous."

"Don't be! I think they look good," Dick responded with a smile that made Bruce wonder if he was being sincere.

"I still would have preferred contacts," he responded gruffly.

"And you'll get them, Master Bruce. You merely need to wait for the next shipment of contacts to arrive," Alfred chimed in as he served tea.

"But... what about Batman? The doctor said it will take two weeks at the most before your contacts arrive," Dick reminded him. "I can always go on patrol by myself, it's not a pro-"

"No," Bruce cut him off. "I'll think of something."

Later that week, the team gathered together at Mount Justice. Batman had a mission for them.

Robin was excited in more ways than one.

Just as Wally was starting to get tired of waiting, Batman finally made his appearance.

"Recognized. Batman, 02"

As the Bat walked through the zeta tube, the team had to bite down laughter. Batman just wasn't as intimidating when he was wearing glasses over his cowl.