Bruce Wayne, the Batman, sits behind the wheel of the massive black armored car that generations of Robins nicknamed the Batmobile. Rain beats against the roof as he tools slowly down the abandoned back streets of Gotham. His eyes travel over the computer screens displaying chatter from the JLA, and Gotham PD. It's a quiet night, not so much as a convenience store robbery all night. He briefly thought of calling it a night, but he and Damian weren't speaking at the moment because the boy had, again, stolen the Batmobile and gone out by himself. Batman both loved and hated nights like this, because they let him glimpse a future where he wouldn't need to dress up and fight crime, but what would he do the day after that day came? His moment of self reflection is interrupted by a blaring alarm that fills the cabin of the Batmobile. Each of the computer screens blank out and even the windows flash red, with two bolded words flashing on every screen as a robotic voice repeats them over the screaming alarm "Protocol Beta".
Batman has hundreds of plans and alerts but only a handful that would interrupt everything like this. This one makes his blood run cold; this one is the stuff of nightmares. He reaches out and deafly presses a button, and the alarm and flashing lights die, another button press and the computer has calculated the fasted route to where he needs to be, ETA ten minutes. The massive black monster of the Batmobile makes the corner onto a main street and starts to accelerate. Batman reaches up and flips a switch that turns on the radio
"This is Zulu one to Gotham actual," he said to the GCPD central dispatch.
"Um, this is Gotham actual," came a nervous voice "go ahead Zulu one."
"I need the streets from west 40th down cleared, now."
"Acknowledged Zulu one, street clearing protocols underway."
He flicked off the radio and punched down the accelerator, jets of fire coming out of the back of the Batmobile as it climbs over 100 miles an hour. 'I won't be too late, I can't be too late again, not for him,' Bruce thinks desperately to himself
On a rooftop somewhere in the city, Tim Drake - Red Robin - looks out at the sky line thinking idle thoughts: 'Maybe I should call Kon, or Bart, or Cassie' - but it's already after midnight and they liked to sleep, weirdos. There's a beeping in his ear. Tim reaches up and presses the small hearing aid shaped device in his right ear. "Protocol Beta" it repeats over and over till he presses it again. In a smooth leap he jumps down to the ally below and mounts his red motorcycle. In seconds he's speeding along the streets of Gotham, the city a blur around him, his cape flying out behind him.
'Once a Robin always a Robin.'
Across the bay in Bludhaven, Dick Grayson - Nightwing - is looking at the hulking shadow of Gotham City. Though he'd have never confessed this even under torture, he misses it. Not being Robin - taking orders from Bruce every night would be a nightmare. No, Tim filled the role of Robin better than he ever did and Damian needed it more than Dick had. What he missed was Gotham itself, its smell, its rawness, almost a living animal, violent and wild, but sometimes beautiful in a terrible way. Bludhaven was a dead body with scavengers picking at it, it was his city but Gotham still and maybe always would have his heart. A loud beeping fills his ear till he lifts his left hand to press the device in that ear: "Protocol Beta".
He only needs to hear it once before clicking it off and running down the fire escape, off the roof top and to the ground, then down half a block to his car, never slowing down. It looks like a normal Ford Charger in black, parked on the street like any other car. He slides in behind the wheel, flipping a switch. The windows and windshield black themselves out, no one can see in but Dick can see out. A second switch and the blue Nightwing symbol materializes on the hood and the doors 'should take care of the cops, at least once I'm in Gotham' he thinks, pulling out and gunning it for the bridge to Gotham City.
'Hang in there kid, I'm coming.'
In the Bat Cave, Damian Wayne sat and brooded, sharpening his sword. He did his best to ignore Titus' massive head in his lap and the huge dog's doleful eyes staring up at him. He knew if he gave in and played with the dog his mood would improve and he was too far into being angry at his father to allow that, just yet. He just couldn't understand why his father was mad 'after all, I'm the best trained Robin ever always treats me like a child'. He sharpens the blade in his hands with frustrated strokes. Damian nearly drops his sword when the whole cave lights up with flashing red lights and blaring alarm sounds. The massive computer banks in the center of the cave flash to life dozens of screens all showing the same red flashing message: "Protocol Beta".
Damian knows what that means, and at once his head snaps around to look at the glass case under the spotlight, with the red, green and yellow uniform standing over a plaque that says "A Good Solider". Protocol Beta is the codename for a grave robbery of Jason Todd's finally resting place. Damian Wayne has never thought much of the other Robins, especially the one who managed to get himself killed. He knows he's a better Robin than they were, light years ahead of where Grayson or Drake were when they started as Robin, still light years ahead of Drake for that matter. However, someone was digging up a Robin was an insult to the uniform, the legacy, and an insult to Robin; Damian was Robin and didn't leave insults unanswered. He briefly considered the fact he was grounded, but no one was grounded from this. Putting on the mask that went with his uniform and sheathing his sword he took the stairs up to the manor two at a time.
The Batmobile roars up to the gates of the graveyard and barely has stopped moving before Batman is out of the car and striding through into graveyard itself. Half way to Jason's grave he's met by Red Robin his Bo staff out as he calmly scans in every direction.
"Red Robin, Report," Batman nearly barks, not breaking step.
Tim jogs to keep pace, "Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler are checking the perimeter. No one brought earthmoving equipment through either gate, I put off going to the grave itself till you got here."
Batman taps the side of his head, "Oracle?"
"Yeah Bruce, there's no activity on the gate cameras, the perimeter motion detectors are quiet, the cameras and motion detectors at the grave itself are also clear."
Batman and Red Robin are standing at the foot of the grave now looking at the obelisk baring Jason Todd's name and birth and death dates. Nightwing came running up to stand next to them as they looked at the grave, nothing out of place.
"Oracle," Batman said, "confirm what triggered the alarm."
"The sensors in the coffin reported a breach."
"In?"
"Yeah… and then about a minute ago, there was a breach of the coffin lid on the outside."
"What about the sensors on the body?"
"Um, it's hard to tell, something is interfering with them, the kind of readings I'd get if they were going underwater."
Batman looks at Nightwing, they've been partners for so long the same thought flashes through their minds, the first rule of detective work 'when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'. At the same moment they throw themselves on the grave their black gloved hands ripping up clods of earth, Tim Drake is right behind them. Three sets of hands tear at the earth they don't speak the dumb beat of the unspoken prayer 'please don't be too late'drives them forward.
Then, exploding into the night is a pale white hand and an arm covered in a suit jacket. Dirt and mud cover the hand and arm as it claws at the air for the a second before the powerful hands of Batman and Nightwing grab it from either side and Tim Drake grabs both of their shoulders as the three of them pull with all their might. The small, skinny figure flies from the dirt as the four of them collapse in a heap.
The boy in the suit, his face a mess of tears, blood, and muddy earth, wraps his arms around Batman's chest as the big man pulls him close, instinctively covering him with his cape.
The boy's voice was hoarse, like he's been screaming: "Bruce… I knew you'd come for me…"