Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any related characters. Sorry I've been away for so long. There are three main reasons for this: 1) scholarship/college work, 2) I'm in love with my NaNoWriMo and am dying to finish it, and 3) I kind of… lost… the outline… to this fic. I'm going to search high and low and hopefully I'll find it. Anything that was on it and not included in this chapter may be included in the next. However, I had thirteen total chapters planned and while I remember the last couple, I don't want to wing all the details. All of the plot holes I could see relied on me knowing what those notes said. Anyway. I hope you read, enjoy, and review!

Chapter 7

John was the first to come up to her. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking with fright. Selina was staring at them, too, but her eyes were narrowed and contemplative. Robin felt that no girl her age should look so old at such a time.

"What's going to happen now," John asked, sitting down beside her. Sometime over the course of things, he had taken to talking to her, to trying to figure out what she knew and why she knew it. She was disappointed that she didn't know enough for him.

"I don't know," Robin looked down at Bruce's pale face cradled in her lap. "We need to get him out of here, though. Batman's not immortal."

John studied her and him quietly for a few moments, "You know him, don't you?"

"First rate ass. But if he's willing to risk his life to save ours, who am I to talk?" She couldn't exactly say that she had the bravery or foolhardiness that went with being the city's hero.

She looked around. People's faces were crestfallen and shocked. Seeing Bruce Wayne prancing around like Batman did wonders to their sense of justice in the world. Robin thought that maybe they considered Bruce Wayne a point of balance in their lives. They considered him something that kept the rich, rich and the poor, poor.

"How do you propose we get out of here?"

Robin shrugged. There was no way that they could escape. She would be stupid if she thought there was. "I've got nothing," she sighed, absentmindedly running her fingers through Bruce's hair. While she didn't notice that she was doing this comforting action on her own, Selina's pointed look drew her gaze down towards her wayward hand. Turning red, she pulled away and rested the offending limb safely on the ground. "Trust me, though, he can't stay here."
"We need to get him out of here," a man towards the back of the cage agreed. Everyone whipped around to look at him. He was lanky and unnoticeable, probably around twenty-five or twenty-six. His hair was a greasy blond and unkempt, he looked her square in the eyes, "If not for us, then for Gotham."

A mother holding her child shook with anger, "What do you mean, if not for us. We want to escape, too."

"There is a way to get out of here," he continued as if the woman had never spoken. "And that is to revolt."

The word revolt hung in the air like the foul stench of their unbathed skin. It was what people feared, what people were dancing around whenever escape came into conversation. This man, though, had no problem with the concept of revolting. In fact, he looked proud at his suggestion, if the glint in his eye were any suggestion.

"What does a revolt do but kill us," the woman hissed harshly. Her eyes were on the door, watching for guards. "I won't have that happen to my child!"
John looked between them, almost in a way that said he was considering what the man was saying. However, he didn't say anything, instead waited for him to continue.

"Batman is the one hope this city had," the man said once the woman had calmed down and just resumed glaring at him. "We are but a few of the people he's tried to help, tried to save. He's saved more people than we can even count. We wouldn't even make up a percentile of that." He paused, closed his eyes, then opened them quickly, taking in everyone in the room. "If Gotham loses Batman, Gotham loses hope. Without hope, Gotham will be lost. We'll probably die, I'll admit that. But what's a few deaths when there are millions of people to save?"

Everyone was silent, mulling over his deep words. There was reason to his plead of madness. Who cared if they died? Ten, twenty people, it wasn't unusual in Gotham. However, if they helped Batman, if Batman survived, then the casualties probably wouldn't be quite so great. He had saved many lives. But, Robin reflected, he couldn't save them all.

"I'm in," she said, deciding that it was better to die fighting than to live on her knees. Her hand had returned to Bruce's hair and she decided that she wasn't going to move it. She needed some form of comfort if they were practically going to undergo suicide, and if that comfort was Bruce Wayne's hair, then who was she to deny the comfort?

Selina raised a shaky hand in the air, "I guess I'm in."

A few more people grumbled, but finally raised their hands and agreed to the plan. Slowly, everyone nodded or said the affirmative vote. The only person left was the mother and her child. "I'm not risking the life of my child!"

Everyone was silent. It was something they hadn't thought about. If they risked their lives, they were also risking the life of someone who had never really had a chance to live. The girl's frightened gaze was on Robin and she flinched. No, risking the life of this child wasn't something she could live with.

Bruce stirred in her lap and her head whipped down. His eyes were barely open and a hand was reaching out slowly, finally resting on the skin of her cheek. His fingers slid down her smooth skin and finally he whispered, "Robin."

Her mouth dropped open in shock and she resisted the urge to jump up and run to the other side of the cage. This… what… What was Bruce doing? But she didn't move, only continued to watch as his fingers splayed over her skin.

"I will protect you," he said, strength returning to his voice. "I promised."

His hand dropped down and he turned to the mother and her child. Robin could feel his body shaking and grimaced. She only wondered where he was able to find the strength to do all that he was doing.

He said nothing, though, when he looked at them. The little girl calmed down and slipped out of her mother's arms and walked hesitantly to Bruce, "Are you going to save us, Mister?"

Tears welled in Robin's eyes at the sweetness of it and she looked away.

"I can try," he said, a painful laugh making its way to her ears. He looked back up and her and said, "When they come back in here, create a distraction. Wait for them to open the gate."

She nodded, still staring at the strong man in her lap. He smiled at her with the famous Bruce Wayne, Playboy Extraordinaire smile before his eyes closed and his breathing gained a normal pace. She looked up at everyone and they stared back at her, "Well, are you ready," she asked. They looked away and a few nodded and muttered, "As ready as I'll ever be."

-----

They didn't come for hours. Maybe Doctor Crane was busier than he let on. Robin shivered at the thought and stared down at Bruce. He hadn't woken up yet and she was afraid that he wouldn't ever wake up, at least not in time to help save them. They had put on his mask some hours before, John claiming that if all else failed, they needed to keep his identity a secret.

Her hands clasped the metal bars behind her back, gripping them tightly as if letting go would mean death. For the past three hours, it had seemed like her eyes were either trained on the door or on Batman… Bruce Wayne. Robin shook her head and glanced quickly around the cage before turning back.

The door opened.

Light streamed into the room and Robin squinted, blinded by the light. Two men stepped into the room: two familiar guards… and Doctor Crane. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned to Bruce. He was still fast asleep.

Guns were pointed at them and one of the guards jingled the keys to the gates, grinning maliciously into the dark. A key slid into a keyhole and soon they were putting in the proper codes and doing the procedures familiar to getting into the cage. One of the men was already pointing his gun at a woman, motioning with it for her to get up. Shakily, she did as she was bidded, sparing a quick, scared glance with Robin. Slowly she made her way to the doors as they opened them. Distract them.

Robin wasted no time and started pounding on the bars with her fists as hard as she could. The cage began to rattle as the sound echoed through the room. People in the back followed her example, rattling and pounding on the bars to the cage.

"Quit it and shut up," shouted one of the guards, shooting two warning shots into the ceiling.

No one did as he ordered. Instead, even more people joined in the noise making, trying to make as much of a distraction as they could. Robin wondered if some of them weren't also worried about Batman, hoping that he would wake up in time to save them. She closed her eyes and went back to the task at hand.

"I'm warning you," the man roared. Or, tried to roar. Half way through saying 'warning', there was a choked sound and Robin opened her eyes and whipped around to look at him. There was no sign as to what took him out, but the man was lying across the floor, leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Her eyes swept down to where Bruce had just been and saw nothing but a pile of dirt and puddle of dried blood where he had been.

The other guard started firing his gun anywhere he could and the people in the cage hit the dirt. Intelligent. Robin sneered at the man, wondering what he thought he was doing. It didn't take long for him to quit the firing, though. To her amazement, she watched as Bruce literally swooped through the air, landing on the guard. He ripped the gun from his hands and flung it across the room before pummeling him once, hard, into the ground. The man was out cold.

Glancing around revealed that Crane had taken his time to leave, sneaking out the back way instead of staying to fight like a man… or like one of his goons. Robin planned to make him the center of her next article. Imagine what people would say, hearing about a man like this and what he was doing.

Bruce was out the door, checking around the halls, "It's clear," he gruffly called back into the room.

Robin motioned for everyone to go before her, deciding that taking up the lead was the best of the plans. She watched as he handed the gun to John and told him, "Lead."

It wasn't a request, but an order. Robin grinned, happy to have the too-sure Bruce that she knew back. The one before, injured and bleary made her nervous. Her hand went to her cheek, remembering the way that he had caressed it earlier. Clearly just the lack of blood taking hold of his mind.

She filed out behind everyone, Bruce beside her. "Good job, Bat Boy."

"Whatever," he grunted.

Robin turned to look at him, fully prepared to give him the talking-down he deserved. Something made her stop. He looked mostly normal, except for the slight tilt in his step. "Bruce?"

He grunted again, this time falling forward.

"Bruce!"

She reached out to catch him, but was too slow. Luckily, the lanky man from earlier was trailing behind, too, and turned just inside to catch the falling hero. With some difficulty and help from another man, they lifted him between their shoulders, lugging him along. Robin bit her bottom lip with worry, but kept tabs on what was happening around. The last thing they needed was to end up being trapped by more of Crane's minions.

----

Air was a blessing. It was calm, cool, and tranquil. It also allowed a breath of fresh air that was thwarted quickly by the stench of unwashed bodies. They walked for what seemed like a long time. Still in the narrows, Robin noted, but not like before. Nothing like before. Gun shots could be heard, along with the infernal sound of screeching car tires. Eventually they came to a small park, no doubt filled with the homeless and murderers, and stopped. John made them gather around in a circle before spilling. "No one knows Batman's identity."

A few people started to protest, but others in the crowd shushed them quickly. Robin smiled. At least Bruce wouldn't have to worry too much about his identity getting out. Not that she cared. Stupid millionaire… billionaire… whatever he was.

"Think about this. Knowing Batman's identity will cause more harm than good. His enemies will come after you, along with everyone else who hates him. Nobody knows."

Now everyone was nodding, seeing John's wisdom. Robin was amazed about how trusting these people were of this man. He had been there leader in confinement, and now he was their leader in freedom.

"Who's Batman again, I forgot," a few people joked.

John continued talking, mostly about how it would be best if none of them had any contact again, and Robin took the opportunity to poke the two men in the back, "I can take him from here, boys."

"You sure," one of the men asked. The lanky man said nothing, instead looking like he was in pain and breaking down into a deep sweat.

"I'm sure. I'll hail a cab."

She had seen a few of them drive by, shuttling people to places. There was no doubt in her mind that she couldn't get one to stop somehow. And if not, she'd show a little leg. She snorted. Had that ever worked for anyone?

The one man offered to help her haul him to a street bench and she quickly agreed. There was no need for her to attempt to lug around the heavy man.

A cab did stop, eventually. She shoved Bruce inside and quickly followed telling the man, "657 Handbrook Street. The Narrows."

The cabdriver squinted his eyes at her, "Show me the money."

She groaned, knowing that she had forgotten about something, "Put it on Batman's tab," she said, jabbing her thumb at the masked crusader.

The cabbie snorted and said, "We get there, I get the money. And that's only because it's the first time I've heard that one. Where have you been, dressing up like that? Nice costume, he has."

Robin followed his speech with some difficulty and said, "Costume party. He likes to dress up like Batman on the weekends. Weirdo."

The cabbie grinned at her, but continued to drive in silence.

----

No one was home. The apartment was empty, it almost looked like it had been torn through at a fast pace. Maybe Hailey had been late for work, as she usually was, and needed to gather some things around. And Marissa was nearly always out, so there was no surprise there. Robin motioned for the cabbie to put Bruce on the couch and jumbled around the drawers in the kitchen for some cash. A dollar here, a dollar there, they really should invest in a money jar for situations like these. Despite how much she wanted to trust the nice cabbie, she didn't. Or rather, she couldn't. There was just something strange about the entire situation, one that was too good to be true. She kept an eye on him and made sure that knives were in reach.

Once she handed him the money, though, he muttered a quick goodbye and flew out the door, slamming it behind her. The sound vibrated off the walls and some dust fell from the ceiling. A light blinked hazardously.

There was no telling what she was going to do with Bruce. What was he doing, anyway, running around the city dressed like a flying rodent? Was he mad or just plain stupid? He had all the money in the world, yet he was risking his life for those of the citizens. Something about it brought a wayward smile to her lips as she looked at his form.

Boiling some water and grabbing some supplies from the bathroom, she set to work on what should have been done hours ago: cleaning his wounds. Getting the uniform off the second time was even worse than the firs. The thing was like a second skin against her body, she though red-faced. And the man did have a beautiful body, all planes and muscle and not a bit of fat. Just like what Marissa had been telling her all along.

She cringed as she wiped down the dried blood and slathered them in anti-bacterial cleaner. He groaned under her working hands and a small shiver ran down her spine. Not that. Stupid body. It was not supposed to react like that to Bruce Wayne. Give her Luke any day.

----

"Where the hell am I?"

Robin woke with a start, eyes wide and wild. What was going on? Was there someone else in her apartment? Did Marissa or Hailey bring home a crazy man?

Then it all came back to her. The torture. The escape. Everything. Robin groaned and shouted, "Shut up for a second, would you?"

The sound of feet rushing towards her and her door ripping open, ripping off of its hinges. Bruce Wayne stood before her, half naked and eyes blazing, "Where am I?"

She had never seen him like this, angry and unsure of what was happening. It was like everything had been broken down and all that was left was the bare skeleton of what he usually was. Some people in another apartment yelled at them to shut up and find another place to have their fight. Bruce ignored them, eyes on her. Robin wasn't sure if he recognized her or not.

"Just be quiet, you overgrown, over privileged, piece of ass," she shouted right back, trying to fight down her smile and bit down the bit of fear that was rising in her stomach. "And maybe I'll explain what's going on. If you're lucky. And, by the way, you really shouldn't be walking."

He glared at her, but calmed down and sat on the edge of her bed, "Tell me what happened."

"We escaped. Crane doesn't know that you're Batman. Everyone made a pact not to tell, either. That about sums it up."

"How do you know you can trust the people?"

"Don't know. That's why it's called trust. And I think they're kind of afraid of you, what with being a bat and all."

"I am not a bat," he said with exasperation.

"You're right," Robin agreed. "You just dress like one."

He gave her a solid stare before walking out the door and into the cramped kitchen. Robin followed him, grin still implanted on her face.

"You know what I don't get," she asked.

"What?"

"You could have been anything. Sharkman, Tigerman. Out of all of these wonderful, ferocious choices you chose to name yourself after a pesky flying rodent. Batman! Part bat, part man!"

She continued giggling, but slowed to a smile when she saw the serious expression on Bruce Wayne's face. For three seconds something hit her fast, so fast it almost knocked her out. One of the richest men in the world was standing in her dingy, trashy apartment that was hardly big enough to share with her three roommates. He didn't blink at the thought, but an embarrassed flush made its way onto her face.

"Sometimes, the rodent that flies is the thing we're most afraid of."

With that, he took off towards her front door, angry stride and all.

"Bruce, Mr. Wayne, Batman, whatever." He stopped, but didn't turn around. "There's something I want in exchange for keeping your serious."

"And what is that," he asked with a hollow voice.

She couldn't see his face, but could easily imagine the expression. Disappointment, anger, pity. It would be much like when she told her parents she would rather not be a circus performer.

"I want to be taught self-defense."

The silence between them was thick, so much so she could almost see it.

"Fine."

And then he was gone, striding out of her apartment like he owned it. Majestic. No, not Bruce Wayne, she berated. He was awe-inspiring.

A/N: This chapter was completely unedited, but I thought you all might like a little Christmas gift. So here I am, spreading the cheer. Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, to all (and any other holidays/non-holidays I may have missed). Sorry I'm a little late for you Hanukkah/Kwanzaa people.