So I got the idea for this from an anonymous reviewer called Kyla. It's a companion piece to my other story Robin's Vengeance but if you don't want to read that entire story here's what you need to know. Robin's parents were killed in an acrobatic accident caused by "Boss" Zucco. He was taken in by Batman, but his desire for revenge drove him to seek out Zucco and kill him and a few other people. So, he was committed to Arkham. This is what Bruce is doing/thinking throughout the whole situation.
I sat, unmoving and alone at my desk in the Batcave. My mind was spinning, refusing to process the events that had just taken place. I had just found Dick after he "ran away" sitting in a room with 6 bodies scattered around him and an insane grin on his face. My apprentice, a murderer. It was impossible.
"Damn you Dick!" I cried out, my temper taking control as I jumped up from my seat. Furious, I flung one of the batarangs on my desk at the protective case that had housed Dick's uniform in an uncharacteristic show of anger. Unfortunately, the only thing that accomplished was making me feel stupid as the weapon was merely reflected off the bullet-proof glass.
I collapsed on the ground, just wanting to sit and never move again. When I had made the decision to take in Dick, everyone had warned me of the recent failures concerning apprentices. I had promised myself he wouldn't turn out like Oliver's protégé Speedy, or Odin's kid Aqualad. But he had. They had all turned: running away, committing crimes, disregarding everything we taught them. I tried to block out all emotion, distancing myself from the case in order to analyze the situation… was there anything I could have done?
I shouldn't have taken him in as my ward. At the time, it seemed as though I had to. Dick, still so innocent then, had reminded me of myself: young, parents gone, no family. I had to take in the young teen, or at least it had seemed that way. I should have been less naïve, but I wasn't. That was a mistake.
Something had disturbed me about the boy though: from the beginning he had been cold, distant, and seemingly hell-bent on revenge. Being foolish, I had ignored it and attributed it to the recent tragedy in his life. Then I went and trained him, giving him every means to act on his feelings. I should have been more cautious, but I wasn't. That was a mistake.
Then he had learned about my superhero alias and insisted I trained him to fight. I had agreed, albeit reluctantly, seeing the promising ambition in him but ignoring his faults. I should have been more perceptive, but I wasn't. That was a mistake.
I realize now that I had tried to force my image onto him. When I was young, training had taken my mind off the horrors I had witnessed. So, I pushed him and pushed him, so much that he finally snapped. I could have prevented that, lightened up a bit. I should have been more observant, but I wasn't. That was a mistake.
I still remember, about an hour after our fight, Alfred had come running down to my office telling me Dick had disappeared. He had been so concerned, acting like such a father figure to Dick. I didn't care. I assumed he was, like most teens, just running away and blowing off steam or something. I should have been more concerned, but I wasn't. That was a mistake.
So many mistakes… all preventable. They had all added up, finally ending in Dick, covered in blood and surrounded by the bodies of six grown men. The worst part was his smile: he looked so pleased with himself and insane. My fault…
My less than perfect apprentice had snapped.
I was shaken from my string of thoughts by the sound of steps approaching, Alfred I assumed. Sure enough, my old friend appeared seconds later, stopping next to where I was still sitting on the floor.
"Come with me Master Bruce. You need some sleep," he told me kindly, though his usual smile was missing. I reached for the offered hand and let myself be pulled up from the ground. He led me silently out of the Batcave and through the familiar corridors of Wayne Manor. We finally arrive at my bedroom suite and I stumbled in, collapsing on the bed as soon as I was close enough.
Alfred stayed standing at the doorway of the room, no doubt trying to provide a small amount of reassurance. "Master Bruce… doesn't let this affect you so much."
I glared up at him, letting only him see my true weakness that I usually hid so carefully. "Don't let it affect me? My apparent– Dick is a psychopathic serial killer!"
He paused, staring out the bedroom window facing Gotham City before he turned once more to look at me. "Master Richard is clearly… troubled. However, he is an Arkham where he will be getting the finest psychological help available. Don't let his mistakes hurt you Sir, please. That would be letting him win, in a sense."
Silence filled the room as thought carefully about this previously overlooked piece of information. "Thank you Alfred" I finally said, looking at my faithful butler with a small smile. Determined to continue with my life, I pulled myself up from my bed and headed towards the bathroom.
"Any progress?" I asked Alfred, like I did every single morning.
"I'm sorry Sir. According to the reports, Master Richard still shows no sign of recovery" Alfred said, looking regretful. I sighed, slowly sitting in one of the chairs at the island. Every day the same question, the same answer.
"Although, he has first session with the psychologist today." I instantly glanced up at the now smiling butler. For the first time since I found Dick that one night I felt hopeful. If they could figure out what was wrong with him, they could fix it.
"Great," I replied, "maybe I'll visit him in a few weeks."
Time seemed to pass quickly, and I kept my distance from society: creating more lies and avoiding contact with everyone I could. One of the few people I talked to was Fox, one of my few close acquaintances, since I had no real friends. He supplied me with everything for my alias, including my current project – a new Batarang.
I heard footsteps that could only be Alfred's approaching from the main entrance and turned to face him, cautiously optimistic. The look on his face instantly destroyed any such hope. Not even meeting my eyes, he looked down. "I'm sorry sir, they only just told me. She quit. Richard's doctor, a Miss Evelyn Everett, after only one session. The only thing they would tell me is that minimum progress made."
"Damn it," I muttered, sinking deeper into my seat. I didn't understand. Did he not understand that he needed help? Or, worse yet, did he not want help? I shuddered at the thought before banishing it from my mind. Despite our short and relatively uneventful time together, I had grown somewhat attached to the teen; he would recover, I would make sure of it.
"Are you alright sir?" Alfred inquired, breaking me from my thoughts.
I looked up at the man who had become my second father after the first's murder. Maybe I should have been kinder to Dick, taken him under my wing like Alfred had done with me. I shook my head; it didn't matter now. Focusing on the current problem I gazed up at Alfred, "So what happens now?"
"They'll find a new psychologist, I presume. Supposedly they're already talking to a few of the options already present at Arkham."
"Good, good" I mumbled before turning back to my work. Dick was where he needed to be getting much-needed help. He would be back in no time, hopefully.
Footsteps came crashing down to my work office, where I sat typing a report to Fox. I looked up to see Alfred standing in the doorway seconds later looking tense and panicked. I instantly stood, bracing myself for the worst. "I just got a call from the police," the older man panted, exhausted from his run, "about Arkham. Somehow all the inmates cells opened and they escaped. Of course that includes…"
"Dick" I finished for him, eyes wide in horror. I sprinted out the door and to the Batcave, intent on getting to Arkham and saving Dick, though it would probably be from himself. Not to mention the hundreds of other insane criminals the asylum housed would need to be re-captured.
"Wait, Sir," Alfred cried, struggling to catch up as I rushed to change into my Batman suit.
"What?" I said sharply, glaring at the butler for the interruption.
"You didn't listen Sir. I said the inmates were wandering the grounds, not are. The crisis has passed; Arkham chose to utilize its own guards instead of calling on the Batman." I stared at Alfred in confusion, he had seemed so panicked, but there was no cause for alarm if everything was once again in order.
Sensing my confusion, he continued. "They've all been accounted for, except Dick… the Joker, and their doctor, Harleen Quinzel."
I froze, my mind racing to comprehend this sudden news. "Dick's new doctor was Harleen Quinzel?" A nod confirmed my worst fears. "Damn it. We knew there was something off about her. Dick must have figured it out and confronted her during one of their sessions," I said, mostly musing to myself as I tried to put together the pieces. "She tells Joker, they escape…"
"And take Dick with them" Alfred concluded solemnly. I couldn't breathe. Not only had Dick escaped and lost any chance of help, but he, along with all my secrets, was with the Joker. Who knows what he could tell that insane madman.
"I'm going after him Alfred." The butler just nodded, realizing arguing would be pointless. He ventured one question though.
"Who, sir? Joker, or Master Richard?"
I looked down, frozen. "Dick, he needs to be stopped. He, he knows too much," I finally said, trying to provide an un-needed justification. Alfred just nodded and without another word I finished suiting up and left, ready to hunt for my former protégé.
Days had passed since Dick escaped, with no clue to where he disappeared. My hunt had been unsuccessful; it seemed like I had taught him too well. Dick always seemed to be one step ahead of me.
I collapsed into my bed, exhausted from my never-ending hunts through the city. I quickly fell into a short sleep, one that was interrupted moments later when I heard Alfred approaching from deeper inside my mansion. Forcing myself to sit I watched him carefully.
Remaining silent, he just turned on the flat screen television that adorned one of the walls in my suite. I stared in shock at the news flickered on, the reporter standing right outside of Wayne Enterprises.
"–Fox's window was found shattered, and a building wide search for the still-missing CEO is currently in progress. All other personnel have been safely activated to ensure that no one else has been injured. A representative for company owner Bruce Wayne was unable to provide a comment at this time."
I stared in wordless horror as the woman continued her report. No one should have been able to get that close to Fox without some alarm being raised. Except Dick. Shit. By hiding the truth from everyone I had given him the perfect loophole. But why? What could Fox give Dick?
Unless, Dick knew Fox was the one who supplied me with costumes and weapons, all of which were built underneath the main floor. Which means the authorities wouldn't be able to find the CEO; he would be in the secret underground room that housed all the experimental equipment for Batman.
"Prepare the limo Alfred" I demanded brusquely, walking into the bathroom to change.
Readying myself for the press's onslaught of questions, I watched calmly as the limo slowed near the entrance. A police officer approached the limo, intent on stopping it, but instantly stopped once he realized that I was the occupant. We stopped in front of the entrance of the giant skyscraper, and I quickly stepped out.
The reporters instantly focused on me, calling out questions and shoving microphones in my face. Ignoring them as best as I could, I quickly entered Wayne Enterprises. Police were everywhere, interviewing the many employees and examining the presumed crime scene.
I brushed past all of them, the employees too frightened and the police too focused to pay me much attention. I walked through the main lobby area to the elevators and entered the first one that arrived. Quickly hitting the button, I closed my eyes, praying that my suspicions were wrong. Fox would be alive, hopefully uninjured, merely hiding from any danger.
No matter how much I wanted to believe that, it wouldn't be true.
Finally I arrived at the highest floor. Devoid of all life, the true crime scene was deathly silent, the police not having reached it yet. The only sounds being the muted ones coming from the streets far below. I walked carefully into Lucius's office, making sure not to disturb anything and entered the secret passageway.
The eerie ride down matched the mood as the door slowly opened. I closed my eyes, still wishing for the best, before the smell of death attacked my senses. My eyes flew open and sure enough, there way Fox's body, covered in his own blood. Putting aside my personal feelings, I examined the body thoroughly.
It was a three bullet job: once in the knee to cripple, once in the head to kill, and once in the heart to ensure death. I turned from the sight: the body of one of my few close acquaintances, horrified by my former apprentice's actions that I could have prevented. Then I saw the wall. Written in blood were six words that solidified my hatred for my former protégé.
Adios Brucey. I'll miss ya. Love, Dick.
He was insane. The Dick I had known was gone: replaced with a cold-blooded killer. He was just another criminal, another criminal I had to stop. The time for weakness and regret and wishful thinking was over.
I will stop him, no matter what it takes.
