WHATEVER HAPPENED TO THE BOY WONDER?

NOTE: Thanks for the reviews and suggestions guys! I couldn't have finished this so fast without you people egging me on! Here's hoping I can keep up the pace! This chapter may frustrate some. It involves some rather experimental methods of storytelling( for me). For those of you who might be confused, the story is entirely from Dick Grayson' s POV (including the 3 years ago part) except for the entries from Bruce Wayne's journal. As always any review or comment is appreciated and constructive criticism welcomed.

CHAPTER 2: DUALITY

FROM THE JOURNAL OF BRUCE WAYNE

MARCH 11, 1987: Gone wrong. All gone so wrong..

Father... I'm afraid I may have to die tonight..

I've tried to be patient, I've tried to wait.

But I have to know.

How , father? How do I do it?

What do I use ...to make them afraid?

If I ring this bell, Alfred will come. He can stop the bleeding in time. Another of your gifts to me, father...

I have wealth. The family manor rests over a huge cave that will be the perfect headquarters...even a butler with training in combat medicine...

Yes father. I have everything but patience.

I'd rather die than wait another hour...I've waited eighteen years...

Eighteen years since Zorro...The Mask of Zorro.

Since that walk.

That night.

And the man with frightened hollowed eyes...and a voice like glass being crushed...

Since all sense left my life.

I'd rather die than wait another hour...

My hands shake now...blood smudges out the words...

A crash..

And now I see it. Without warning it came...crashing through the window of your study...and mine

I have seen it before...somewhere...it frightened me as a boy...

Frightened me...

The Great Beast.

Yes father.

I shall become a bat.

3 YEARS AGO:EAST TIBETAN HIGHLANDS

The icy wind tore at my body through the tattered cloak. The sun was all but a myth in the misty skies. There was a howling emanating from everywhere and nowhere , whether it was the wind or something more sinister, I could not tell. My fingers were numb around the old staff and yet I clutched it all the more frenetically with each new step. Somewhere along the long journey, I'd ceased to be the master. Now I desperately held on to it , clutching it like a baby clinging to its mother.

The old man at the edge of the glade peered curiously at me. Perhaps he had never seen a white man before.

"Tashi delek , stranger."

" Tashi delek."

" The road ends here. Beyond is only the Darkness."

" And that is where I must go."

The man looked puzzled, perhaps he felt he had not made himself clear.

"You do not understand. There is nothing beyond the glade. The Land of the Living ends here."

"And yet I've travelled long and far. This is the road I must walk."

The old man looked troubled at my words.

" You too seek the Old Monastery then."

You too?

"Who else came before me ,po-la ?

" There was another like you, not two days ago. He too came from afar seeking the Old Legend. His face was heavily covered by a cloth but it was easy enough to tell even without his strange, halting accent that he wasn't from around here."

A man unwilling to reveal his identity. Already ahead of me by two days. Somebody knew.

" How come nobody at the village told me this?"

" They didn't know. Only I ,living out here at the edge of the Darkness saw him pass. He spoke little and answered even less. And like you, he would not be dissuaded from taking the path to his doom."

I pondered over this. The path through the village was the only road known in these wild and untamed moors. Out in the wild the cold was fatal and the terrain uncertain. A misstep in the dark would cost a life. There were strange beasts and stranger men who wandered through these highlands. Anyone willing to take such a risk , willing to risk all in search of a legend, a myth was either foolish or desperate. A dangerous opponent in other words. The game was afoot.

"It is inauspicious, I say. For seventy years, the legend lay dead and now within days of each other, two men from strange lands come seeking death and destruction."

I awoke from my reverie with a start. The old man was still speaking.

" I remember the first stranger who came through these lands, many ,many years ago. I was a young boy then, younger than my son's son now. He took spoke of the Ancient Legend, of the Great Evil beyond the Valley. "

Helmut Kahn. German explorer. Missing for 73 years. Presumed dead. Cause of death: unknown. Only recently had Bruce tracked him down to Tibet.

" Of course the village folk warned him, and of course he laughed them off. Like you and the man before you, The Men of the West do not believe in the legends of Tibet. They seek them yes, seeking them as an adventure , an experiment to be marvelled at ,and then proved wrong by science."

I had been wrong. The old man had seen many things already. Somehow he exhibited knowledge beyond his means.

"I would have liked him to live, you know. So many years and I still remember the bearded man with the yellow hair. He was very nice to the children of the village. In the afternoons, he used to give us sweets for free near the Old Road. Sweets like I had never tasted before."

How old was the old man? It was the hard to tell. His sunburned skin was wrinkled beyond recognition but his eyes still lit up and the corners of his mouth crinkled when he smiled, as he did now.

" It was the time of the Great War and though only rumour of it came to these remote corners, I recall how friendly the man was to everybody, as if deliberately trying to make up for all the carnage the White Man brought to the East."

Again the old man surprised me with his perceptibility. Kahn was indeed a vocal critic of the Nazi regime , so much so that his death nearly seventy five years ago was still thought to be a silent assassination by the SS. It was not. Kahn had fled the country two years previously and taken asylum in British India.

" What happened to him?" I asked , though I already knew.

" He never came back." The old man said simply.

"I'm sorry ."I said looking at his sad eyes as he recalled the kind man with the sweets who had passed into the Darkness and never come back.

It was getting late. The shadows of the trees were already stretching over the glade.

"Will you not listen to reason?" The old man beseeched one last time, his face darkened by shadows now.

" I have made up my mind Po-la, I must seek what lies beyond the Darkness of the Valley."

" The Valley is an evil place. The Forest is ancient and its Darkness impenetrable, the streams run dark with water corrupted by the blackened earth. The trees have roots that run deep. They are old and twisted, they do not tolerate trespassers. And there are rumours, rumours yes of something far worse, a dark guardian, a phantom of the forest...Many men have found their way into the forest, few have ever come out..."

The pale light of the sunless skies was gone now. Mists swirled around us as we talked. The howling had stopped now. The silence was suddenly deafening, I almost longed for the roaring again.

"The Valley of Shadows is a Darkness that breathes. It has a mind of its own, it will crush your mind and grind your spirit. The Valley is evil ,yes but what lies beyond...we dare not speak of it.."

"I must go now, Po-la . The hour grows dark."

The old man looked at me with despair. Perhaps he had hoped persuade me to quit. Suddenly he forced himself to speak. As if with great pain, he mumbled in a broken voice:

"...The Devil in Man's Flesh...please you must listen..."

I heard him only faintly over the returning wind. I was already walking into the darkness.

NOW: GOTHAM CITY

"Damian!"

I was shaking all over as I screamed. Two minutes ago, I had found the body of my brother, Tim Drake, Red Robin. Barely two seconds ago I had heard my other brother Damian scream for his life.

I was stunned ,unable to react, incoherent. I couldn't leave Tim but...but I had to save Dami...I couldn't lose him too...

"Please look after the body. Please I'm begging you...please this is my brother ...", I was mumbling incoherently now desperately begging the old couple for help.

"We...we'll stay right here..." The old lady said softly.

I barely heard her, I was already running towards the sound of Damian's scream, zeroing in on the possible location.

Evert Road had once been a prosperous locality expanding rapidly under the Waynes' social equity schemes. The death of the Waynes had struck the death blow to this once booming neighbourhood. Evert Road itself had splintered off into a number of branch roads and alleys. Damian's scream had come from towards the left of the Main Road . A number of broken alleys splintered off to the left. Most with dead ends. I could climb the roofs to scan out the region. It was dark enough to pull it off without the suit. But the enemy already knew that. They would expect me to come swinging in from the roofs. They already knew me. 'You're next'.

I had to do the unexpected. I had to come in from the ground. Damian couldn't have taken the alleys with the dead ends. He thought they were trying to escape. He would have checked the alleys going out first. That only left two choices. Berkley Road was the shorter route out. Dami would have checked that first. It had taken him approximately two minutes to scream. He had surely finished checking the first route by then. That left only one choice.

I burst through three shop windows and hit a solid brick wall as I tumbled out on Frank Miller St. The first man had already fired two shots before he realised I wasn't even there. The crack of his jaw would have made me stop and wisecrack another day but today I was already swinging at the second man. The third caught me in the shoulder with a bullet before I cracked his shin with a leg sweep. The fourth and fifth lost ribs .How many I didn't care.

"STOP!"

That voice...no...

"Stop or the kid dies!"

A man came moving out of the shadow holding a gun to Damian's head. A man in a trenchcoat.

"No..."

3 YEARS AGO:EAST TIBETAN HIGHLANDS

It didn't take me too long to realise why the local villagers called it The Valley of Shadows. The old man hadn't been lying when he had said the Darkness had a life of its own. The first night, I couldn't see my hands in front of me as I walked. The pale beam of the flashlight flickered weakly as it tried to compete with the raging Darkness suffocating it. All around me the mists seemed to well up with supernatural power, swirling to cover me, consume me as I invaded their ancient home. I could see nothing behind me, nothing in front . Only the few feet of trampled earth ,cleared by the flickering light were made visible to my squinting eyes. Every time I walked the Darkness parted reluctantly, grudgingly, wielding to my presence before attacking again with renewed vigour. All around me the air seemed to crackle with energies I could not understand, powers I could not comprehend. I felt choked in the claustrophobic dark, yearning for light. I had felt fear before but this was something different. Something more ancient. Almost like Gotham.

The day brought no comfort with it. A sickly malevolent light filtered through nearly impenetrable canopies .If possible, this was even more nauseating than the dark.

The trees themselves were surprising in their density. The growth in places was impenetrable. An overpowering, putrid smell of rotting branches and fruits emanated from blackened spawn of seeds planted in some ancient age. Every step that I took was hindered by gnarled undergrowth and broken boughs. The damp ,swampy ground was hardly a comfort either. Each step I took dragged me under, testing my already crumbling resolve, probing for a weakness. Mosquitoes attacked any patch of skin that was uncovered, the repellent I' d brought seemed only to incite them to strike more viciously. Making a fire was out of question, the wood was damp even in the highest branches and the few fires I'd managed to make seemed only to attract more flies.

But it wasn't the dark, or the flies or the smell that disturbed me most. It was the feeling of being watched by something or someone in the dark. I was aware of a subconscious feeling of eyes on my back every time I walked, every time I moved. Something observing my every move, watching and waiting for a mistake. Even by the first night I knew I could not afford any.

On the sixth day, I met the Beast. I felt, rather than saw anything. Something moving behind me with inhuman pace. I turned almost instinctively, which probably saved my life . My flashlight must have blinded it, It leaped aside snarling. A panther with skin the colour of the night. Unusual. Panthers were not found in Tibet. My flashlight had blinded it for a moment. Only for a moment. It leaped again moving far too fast for a human to keep up. I somersaulted blindly. Something grazed me. The beast had missed its mark. I landed behind its back. The beast was blindsided momentarily. I had an advantage here, just for a second.

I remembered a fight, so long ago now... A woman with claws... A cat...An alley of feline carnivores leaping to assault me...Catwoman and her legions...Bruce studying extensively the anatomy of a cat...studying its weakest points...

I struck with blinding speed at the seven nearest nerve clusters. The beast roared in agony. One more blow...

I had underestimated its strength...a blur of black and then the smell...the hot sickening smell of what must surely be death...claws ripping through my jacket now...a yawning maw moving in for the kill now...this would be a good death...

Not good enough.

I summoned every last ounce of my strength and kicked off 200 pounds of panther from my body. We both rolled over ,it leaped again but this time I was ready. I swiped my leg violently into its gut. The force of my blow, coupled with its own momentum cowed the beast as it fell over mewling in agony. I had an advantage now . Got to make it count...

The first thing I learnt from Bruce was to use everything in the environment in a fight. It rampaged through several broken branches with murderous intent . I smashed a rock the size of a bladder into its skull. I moved into the thickest part of the foliage . Every thorn and jagged branch was my weapon now. Two legs moved better in the thicket than four. My boots were knitted with thorns already. The panther couldn't have been better off. Two legs were more useful than four here. And me, I was magic on two.

I climbed the rotting tree faster than any human, using every hold available . My limbs were bruised ...my hands bleeding, but I could not stop. Not now when I was so close ...

A white hot pain in my calf...blinding me..

I broke off another branch and slashed it through the eye of the beast...it refused to let go...fangs sunk in my calf...cannot breathe...

I pulled us both up to another branch and hit the beast again...this time it let go..

The branch crumbled now under our weight...

The panther crashed headfirst into a heap of broken branches. I landed on my feet.

Taekwondo is a martial art heavily reliant on powerful kicking. The trick is to get a low centre of gravity to start with.

My leg...bleeding...ignore it...

The beast flailed in the branches...struggling to rise...

My leg was already sweeping a devastating arc through the air as it rose. I already knew I'd cleave the tree in half even before I struck the blow.

The beast rose...and was pulled down by the mud again...

Taekwondo is an art heavily reliant on powerful kicking. Komodo is an extension of this art. Taught to Bruce by an ancient hermit in the volcanic islands of Indonesia, it mimicked the movements of a Komodo Dragon moving in for the kill. Here the emphasis was less on the power of the kick and more on the buildup before it...

CRASH!

The tree fell down with a creaking groan ,sending hundreds of night fowl scampering...

A strange bird with jagged claws flew out in the moonlight.

Not a bird. A bat.

The panther moved once under the tree. Then silence.

The battle was over.

I moved over towards the beast crushed under the great weight. It was alive and its eyes burned with an unnatural hate.

Suddenly shots rang out through the silence of the night.

The beast moved once in pain then no more.

A man in a trenchcoat. His face heavily covered with a cloth.

"Hello kid. Surprised to see me?"

NOW: GOTHAM CITY

"Hello kid. Surprised to see me?"

No...no ..not him...

"Why?"

" What do you mean why, Mr Grayson ...or should I say Batman?"

No...how could he know...impossible..

" Red in the water. Blood in the water. Water and blood. The sunset hour. Dusk. Neither day nor night. Two Robins . And one that is neither. Two alleys. A body in the river and another in the street. The lake and the darkness. Beauty and the Beast. I'm almost disappointed that you couldn't figure this out. Duality. Everywhere. All around you. Look at Evert Street. Once poor, then rich ,then poor again. The unforgiving city. Beauty always comes with the Beast. Two minutes ago, sheer joy for you. Two moments ago sheer terror. Do you really think I would have turned down something so perfect in its duality when he offered it to me?"

He wasn't making any sense . But I didn't care about that now. Surely Damian had managed to contact Babs before his capture. I had to play for time...

" Who's he?"

" Crimson." He said .As if that explained everything.

This was beyond madness now ...even for him...had to play for time...keep him talking...

"Please...please don't do this...don't kill him...he's only a child..."

" Who said anything about killing him ?"

And then it hit me.

You're next.

Around me, more henchmen were gathering. Guns aimed at my face.

Help was on its way...play for time..

" Damnit Harvey...don't do this...flip a coin ...FLIP THE COIN ,DAMN YOU!"

Harvey Dent looked at me coldly with both eyes: one a beautiful shade of warm brown, the other burning black with the flames of hell.

He took out the coin.

"FLIP THE COIN!"

I think we were all still looking at it spinning up when the bullet ripped past my throat.

FROM THE JOURNAL OF BRUCE WAYNE

September 17,1988: Commissioner Loeb was finally incarcerated today after a year long trial. Jim says he won't last too long in the joint, he had let down far too many people in there to survive too long. Maybe he's right. I think every one of us knows it now that it is done . This is not imprisonment. This is a death sentence. Me, Jim and especially Harvey. I think in our heart of hearts we all know exactly what fate awaits him in there, and yet we choose to ignore it. Jim deliberately refuses to acknowledge it publically and I...I console myself by telling myself that this is only the law at work. Nothing I can do about it. Nothing I should do about it. An evil fate for an evil man.

Harvey has none of our qualms. He agrees whole heartedly with the law. He feels he has taken revenge for the many years he was stuck as an Assistant Attorney because of Loeb. No, that's not it...that's just me trying to paint the world in grey...when sometimes it is so clearly black and white. Harvey Dent is taking the revenge of the citizens of Gotham on a dictator who ruled with so cruel an authority. Harvey Dent is not afraid to take responsibility for the citizens, even for the death of another man. Dent is all I dare not be. He's Gotham's White Knight.

And yet I cannot completely abhor the cruel streak in a man otherwise so complete. I've seen it too many times now for me to put it down to my imagination. Almost as if there is a beast within him...struggling to break free. I would not want Harvey Dent as my enemy. He would be the most dangerous of them all.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde...why did I write that..?

I don't know...perhaps the Joker's poisons are muddling my mind again...

Must get my mind off things.

Oh good. Alfred bought tickets for the circus.

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