So you know… I'm sitting here by my big box of Easter candy, giggling because the world's spinning and I have the need to go out and kill things… when I see my box of Peeps and all of a sudden, I just feel a sudden Hulk rage. I have the urge to kill all these Peeps because they're just so freaking adorable that I can't handle it! That's what inspired this story. I just… I love Batman and I love Peeps, so I thought I could combine them for a late (for you anyway, it's Easter for me!) Easter present thing even though it's not much a present… mostly spam… because I'm a review whore… who needs affection.
Oh memories… where'd you go? You were all I've ever known!
Disclaimer: I… still… own nothing? Except my love for Peeps. Holy Geezus. My love for Peeps.
The second Bruce stepped through the doorway, he knew something was wrong. His Batman Senses were tingling twice their regular frequencies which could never be a good sign. Gut feelings were his leads, his main evidence, but never before had one been quite this bad. He was worried, but he let it play off as suspicion as Alfred came to greet him from the kitchen. Before a single word could slip past the gray haired man's lips, Bruce cut the air with his own voice quickly.
"Where's Dick."
He didn't say it as a question because a question is for those who don't know and the Batman knows everything there is to know about anything. He instead stated the subject he knew little of that he needed to further research to expand his knowledge on said topic so he could keep his omniscient title. The butler of the Wayne family cocked his head to the side, confused by the inquiry.
"Is something wrong, Master Bruce?" Alfred kept his voice soft, as was customary, his eyes scanning the ebony in the doorway.
He wasn't sure whether he was looking for any hints of robotic manipulation or an assailant hiding somewhere behind forcing his mood to grow dark from the second he came home. Nothing seemed to be wrong with his 'son' though, or at least nothing worse than what usually plagued him, so he let himself relax just a little.
"I need to know where he is," Bruce reworded himself firmly, starting up the stairs.
He would never let worry show, especially to family, but it was always there, burning beneath the dark colored mask that never left his face even when the costume was off. He made it halfway up the stairs before Alfred stopped him, calling his name sharply, causing him to grab the railing and turn his head lightly.
"I don't believe he's upstairs. He came down earlier in a positively excellent mood, mentioning something about Easter then disappearing without another word. If I had to guess, I'd say he's off with that redhead like he always is..." the older man at the bottom of the stairs tried to remember, rubbing his head in hopes of knocking the entire memory down.
It was lodged in the back corners though and he had no intention of prying it free. It was simply too much effort to go to all that work for a simple thought when the main gist was already taken from context. The butler's words only worsened the look on Bruce's face, causing him to race down the stairs towards his study.
"Where are you going?" Alfred yelled after him, his desire to run after him to find out instead of having to ask not very strong.
The cry that came back as the muscular build disappeared down the hidden elevator shaft behind the bookshelf said something about a feeling and Dick, but the words were distant. The gray haired man simply sighed, heading back to the kitchen to put dinner on. It was Easter after all. He had a big meal to cook.
The second the doors opened, Bruce found the Bat Cave plunged in darkness. His heart plunged to the bottom of his chest, immediately rushing out and frantically feeling for the emergency switch. He was convinced the power was cut and that some assassin was holding his baby bird hostage somewhere in the darkness, ready to kill him the second some light source shone around the room.
That theory was changed though, somewhere between when he stepped on a lot of squishy somethings, causing them to stick to his shoes, and when he turned the light on with ease and drowned the room in light. The second he could see though, he immediately wished the lights were out again. Every inch of his glorious Bat Cave was smothered in... well… girly colors.
Confused, Bruce bent down and picked up one of the fluff things that gave the Cave's floor a near carpet-like appearance, studying it closely. There were four main colors: yellow, pink, purple and blue; all disgusting girlish colors of springtime merriment that he wanted nowhere near his weapons and costumes and vehicles. They were in the shape of bunny rabbits and chickens with chocolate like eyes and dots for mouths.
They were squishy, kind of like a marshmallow, only a lot stickier and much harder to pry from his hand. What were these disgusting little creatures and why were they in his Cave?
"Calm down Wayne," he took a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "It's just some sweets… they're not alive… they can't do anything…"
He tried his best to hold the same calmness as he waded through the bog of marshmallows, gritting his teeth and grimacing every time one of the filthy creatures stuck to his clothes. They were adorable, sure, but adorable was his repellent, his Kryptonite, his silver bullet. He'd much rather they be alive and swarming him than sitting still and doing nothing.
But then- the adorable got even worse. Not even halfway to his computer on the way to search up his ward's whereabouts, a faint "peep!" sounded through the Cave, echoing softly. It was a high-pitched squeak, so innocent and sweet that he felt he could literally die, but not in the metaphorical adorable-induced death kind of way. He was starting to build up rage and he was sure he would explode soon if untreated.
He knew he could handle just one peep though. It was nothing he couldn't handle. He was Batman! He had taken down criminals on land, in the sky and through the waters, dodging bullets, trains and heartbreaking insults that he could shrug off in a blink. He had watched his parents each take a lethal dose of bullets right in front of him as a kid. He had suffered worse fates then this in his sleep.
It sounded again, only louder. That high pitched "peep!" noise started to go once every five seconds, increasing with every footstep he took. Bruce's face scrunched up in anger, but he continued his slow breathing on his way to the computer, his hands balled into tight fists. He wasn't going to freak out though, nor was he going to go on a rampage until he stopped the annoying sound. He was going to be a man and deal with it.
Or at least he would try, but if you think that being a man and holding your composure can last while what sounds like a million tiny "peep!"s are blasting your ear drums, you'd be sadly mistaken. Even Batman has a breaking point, one that was much easier to find when the insulated bulletproof suit was off and hanging up somewhere it couldn't be found. Gritted teeth tried to contain the rage, but it just wouldn't stay.
He couldn't yell though because his gut feeling was as strong as ever on the mindset of his not quite adopted son and he was positive that the giggling bird was to blame for this Easter surprise. He couldn't yell at Dick. He was supposed to be an example, not a monster. His fists were white, particularly around the knuckles, as he brushed the candy off of his chair.
"Dick! I know this is your doing! You have to the count of three to stop the noise and get down!" he gave a warning, making sure his voice was loud enough to cut through the noise.
He expected to hear a higher pitched giggle and to see his sidekick drop from the ceiling, his face lit up in a grin, but no such event happened. No, the volume and frequency of the "peep!"s increased in both situations, the once adorable noises now overlapping in a satanic creepy form of fashion. His tolerance had already been starved, but now it was on the floor in a dying heap, twitching away the last of its life.
"One…" Bruce began to countdown, fury in his voice as the marshmallows stuck to his hand, giving him cause to rub his hands on his pants which only stained his pants.
Still no giggle sounded. Suspicion of the worst kind began to kick in. If it wasn't Dick who sabotaged the Bat Cave, who could it have been? Cat Woman? The Joker? Two-Face? Riddler? Who would go as far as to defile his work space with candy? All evidence would point to his ward, but now he wasn't so sure. A yellow utility belt now wound its way around his chest, carefully hooking into place over a shoulder and under the other.
"Two…"
He slipped a batbomb from its pocket, his eyes scanning the ceiling for a culprit. He looked for a shadow, a heartbeat, a false breath, an out of place wire; he looked for anything that didn't belong on his ceiling. He was willing to do whatever it took to stop the noise, perfectly willing to spend his Easter in the hospital or the police station, or even at Arkham Asylum. He didn't have plans anyway.
"Three."
Bruce tossed his hand back, catching hold of a flickering shadow near the back edge of the middle of his ceiling. He aimed in front of it, not particularly craving to kill anything in the Bat Cave that would leave a bloody, messy trail on the floor that he'd have to clean up later so he wouldn't have to explain it to Alfred. Then, the batbomb cut the air, sticking into the wiring before it gave a three second light up.
A fearful cry cut the air and a smaller frame jumped from the ceiling just as the disc shattered, tearing down part of the ceiling's make-up, the air blast propelling the assailant down faster towards the earth. When Bruce recognized the blast hair flying down with the body, his eyes grew wide and he ran out to catch the boy, disposing of all disgust that came with wading through fluff to do so.
When the muscular build dropped into his arms, Bruce pulled the body closer so he could comfortably hold the perpetrator bridal style, studying the small features with a stern look. In his arms rested Dick, one eye scrunched up in pain but the rest of his face alive with happiness. Bruce's worry showed clearly in his face, but he chose not to voice it, his reprimanding paternal instinct kicking in.
He set Dick down on the floor, smiling as the boy squirmed in the fluff that began to stick to him, before helping him to his feet gently. He was nice enough to try to brush some pink and blue fluff from the back of his ward's t-shirt, but he offered no sympathy.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Bruce tried to scold, his voice coming out with a taunting hint.
He straightened up, folding his arms over his chest, curious for an answer. He could've asked Dick where he got all of the marshmallow treats. He could've asked how long it took to smother the Cave in them. He could've asked why his Cave was covered in candy. That would all be too easy though, and Batman hated easy questions. The one he chose was one he couldn't know, for he lacked obvious telekinesis.
Dick grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck with the slightest of a blush, "P-Peep."
I KNOW BATMAN WOULD NEVER TRASH HIS CAVE. Please don't flame me for that... Please... I have to admit… This didn't turn out as well as I'd planned. I'm not proud. I originally wanted it at Mount Justice. I wanted Robin to be tasored with a weak spasm before he gasped out, "Peep!" But… this kind of just happened. I love Peeps though. So there. Now go and write a Peep story because Peeps are amazing and I love them and there should be more stories about them. Review?
-F.J.
