Disclaimer – I don't own Young Justice
"So let me go out and patrol!" Dick jumped up as he slipped on his last glove as he made his transfer into Robin. "You're obviously way overly stressed out with work, and Gotham has been going crazy with crimes. Someone's got to go."
"Then I will go-"
"You're too exhausted to help anyone," Robin interrupted, "come on, don't you trust me?"
"I can handle Gotham, Dick," he replied in his deep stoic voice.
"I never doubt that," Robin smirked as he pointed at Bruce, "but you never let me patrol on my own."
"I let you go out way more than a thirteen year old kid should," Bruce turned to grab a pen, looking briefly into his eyes, and then returning to the stacks of paperwork he had yet to complete. He normally had some workers help with all the paperwork, but it was nearing Christmas and everyone was starting to take vacation time off.
"Name one time!"
Bruce turned and gave him a 'you know what I'm talking about' glare.
"Okay, fine, you let me go out sometimes," Robin crossed his arms, "but most of the time Wally is with me anyway-"
"-Wait, Wally sneaks out to Gotham to come patrol with-"
"Not important," Robin quickly turned away, "now what do you say? I promise I'll contact you if anything goes wrong. . ."
After a pause Bruce sighed.
"Yes! Thanks, Bats!" Robin ran to the door.
"Wait, wait!" Bruce called back, and Robin stopped with dropped shoulder and a disappointed face. "Normally I wouldn't let you go when Gotham is this ambushed with criminals, but I guess this could be training experience. Just be cautious and be sure to contact me if anything goes wrong."
"Gotcha!"
Three Hours Later:
It already eleven o'clock and Robin had stopped two thugs, but he was beginning to wonder if all these supposed criminals were invisible or something. Boredom clung to him like glue and made him tired and antsy to get action, thinking about heading in he finally found his chance. Sitting atop a building he heard a scream, looking over the ledge he saw a man grab a backpack from a young woman.
"Somebody help! Thief!" he screamed as the man ran down the alley.
How cliché, Robin thought, but I'm up to bagging goons any time. And he was, it was like an easy game board that he liked to keep playing, because he always won. Although he had been craving something bigger, some simple things never grow old.
Robin shot out his grappling hook and swung down, sticking a perfect landing.
"Don't worry, I'll get him," Robin called to her, already running after the man.
Robin threw an explosive batarang but the man covered his head and got out of the way in time, slowing him down but the man still ran. Then as the man turned a corner Robin shot out his grappling hook as the hook stuck onto the ledge of a window, and he swung himself around the corner. Swinging with enough force to let go and land onto the guy. The man hit the ground with a groan of pain, dusting puffing up around him.
"Okay, okay," the guy pleaded, "jeez."
Just as Robin handled the guy to be left to be picked up by the cops the woman came running around the corner, her bright pink dress flowing around his knees and her fluffy blonde hair bouncing with each step.
"Oh, thank you so much!" she exclaimed, her hand over her heart like it was a cheesy movie. She was like a bad actor being ten times too overdramatic.
"It's no problem," Robin handed her the backpack.
"Still thank you," she grinned sincerely and began to walk away, but she stopped, "oh, and since you're Robin I have a message for you."
"From who?"
"I don't know, he said you'd know once you opened the box," the woman ambled towards him, and as she unzipped her backpack. Suspicious but unalarmed by the small woman Robin kept clam, until she yanked out a pistol.
Robin jumped out of the way, but instead of bullets a long strip of wire shot out and shot into his arm. Right before he could tear it out the girl cocked the gun a second time and it electrocuted him. He cringed, groaning as he hit the ground. Soon after the electricity stopped he began trying to stumble back up, but all he could see was the girls sparkly, pink stilettos coming towards him. With each step clacking echoed through the alleyway as though threw a blow horn.
Taking a deep breath Robin muscled up strength and leaned up just as the girl bent down to him, and then she pulled out a small cardboard box from his backpack. She gingerly placed on the ground as though it was very fragile, brushing the top of it off as it dust had gotten on it, and then she strutted away. Not even bothering to look back.
"Hey!" Robin called for her as he stumbled up and tried to run for her, but each time his own dizziness would throw him to the ground. Looking around the corner she was gone, almost heading home he looked back to see the small box sitting in the middle of the alleyway; the moonlight illuminating upon it and showing its loneness.
Recomposing himself he picked up the box, almost wondering if it was safe, he began to cautiously open it. It looked like it was full of paper, but looking closer he saw what made his heart pound loudly in his chest.
They were tons of cards, but every single one was a Jokers card. Digging threw it his fingers touched something soft, so he moved away the cards and there was a dead bird smothered in its own blood that was practically seeping through the cardboard. Robin cringed repulsively and feeling sorry for the cut up bird. Then what he realized scared him even more, although he'd deny his fear, the bird was a robin.
The Joker was looking for a certain little bird. . . .
Ten Minutes Later:
"Bruce!" Robin yelled once he returned the Wayne Mansion, practically running upstairs.
"What is it Master Dick?" Alfred asked with concern, looking up at Robin from downstairs.
"You're still up Alfred," Robin inquired, "but I've got to talk to Bruce immediately. Is he in bed?"
"I'm afraid the League called him in for something-"
"This late!"
"It was an emergency I believe, but if something is wrong-"
"No, no, um, it can wait," Robin swallowed nervously, "it can wait until morning. I just needed to speak with him is all. Thanks Alfred . . . and get some rest."
"You too Master Dick," the man shuffled away slowly, but the man stopped and turned, "what is it that you have?" He was looking at the box suspiciously.
Dick looked down and back up, then he sighed, "It's the reason I need to talk to Bruce." He dragged himself downstairs and showed Alfred the box.
Worry spilled across Alfred's face as he let out a small, muffled gasp, "Obviously it's the work of the Joker."
"Even without the cards it'd still reek of insanity," Robin swallowed, trying to push away his anxiety. "I mean, it's not like this scenario hasn't played out before, where he wants me dead so he can get to the Dark Knight. . . . I was just hoping I'd never be confronted by him alone-"
"You were confronted by him!"
"No, but the way he created this scheme just to get this stupid box to me," Robin continued, "I don't know if I can ever face him alone. I mean, without Batman's or the team's backup."
"You won't have too," Alfred assure him with sincere laced in the wrinkles of his old face, "the man is truly sinister, and as long as he hasn't any marbles left the court will keep sending him to Arkham-"
"And he'll keep finding a way to break out and get to me and Batman," Robin took a deep breath, "we've been fighting him for so long I'm almost surprised that my heart jumped when I saw this box." He hated to admit that, but he trusted Alfred, and considering he didn't want the team or the League to see his weaknesses Alfred was only person who seemed he could admit that too.
"Don't worry Master Dick, sometimes I think he still sends chills of Master Bruce's back from time to time," Alfred replied warmly, "but as for the box I will put it in the Batcave, and then try to contact Batman. Although I can't guarantee he'll answer, normally he's not dragged out late at night if it isn't needed for his full attention."
"I understand," Robin gave him the box.
"Now get some rest,"
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