Disclaimer: I don't own Batman the Animated Series.
Robin
I feel like I've been hit with a truck.
Every inch of my skin is red and peeling, and I can barely move due to the ache. Even feeding myself is horrible. Only the lotion Alfred brings once every four hours offers any relief.
I hate not being able to do anything. Monitor duty sitting at the batcomputer would be better than this, but no; I'm unable to contribute anything. A dead weight.
Sighing, I turn my head slightly, wincing at the increased ache, and look at my night stand. There sits my earpiece, where it will lie unused for a whole week. I strain my head a bit further to peer through my closet and to my mystery board, a habit I picked up from Dick. The numerous pins, pictures, arrows, and articles will not be updated for an entire week.
I allow my head to return back to it's original position. I know I should just be happy that I won and lived to tell the tale, but I want to keep helping, keep fighting.
When I get back on my feet, Gotham's supervillains will need to be careful. Robin will have have returned to clean the streets of worms.
Batman
"We leave in five." I bark. "You both remember your jobs?"
"Yeah, we remember." Dick scowls, putting on his suit and turning into Nightwing. "We've only gone over this two hundred times."
"We scan the lower levels while you take the upper ones." Barbara recalls, similarly turning into Batgirl. "That's the extremely short version anyways."
I ignore Nighwing's complaints and pull on my cowl. I switch to my Batman voice, saying "keep an eye out for Cobblepot."
"That goes without saying." Nightwing says, hopping on the Night-Cycle. Batgirl does similar, leaping gracefully to land on her Batbike, named such so it would differ from Nighwing's.
I climb into the Batmobile and press a button. The back raises up and expands slightly before opening up. "Drive in." I order.
Nightwing and Batgirl look surprised. "Didn't know the Batmobile could do that." Nightwing says as they drive in the back. It closes up with my two protégés still inside.
"When did you add this?" Batgirl asks in wonder. I can see her inspecting the controls and displays.
"A few months ago." I reply curtly. "Makes a nasty surprise for villain's who aren't expecting bikes to come bursting out of the back, or the roof for that matter."
Nightwing glances down at the ramp that comprises the floor below his bike and grins. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun. I should get Cy to put this in the T-Car."
Batgirl snorts and I hit the gas. The Batmobile goes rocketing out of the dark Batcave and into the afternoon sun.
Alfred
As the Batmobile exits the cave I let out a deep sigh. Time for me to watch some television. I walk over to the Batcomputer and redirect the news channel to show on the screen. I also start tuning into radio stations in case there is a clue to be found.
"Just your average night of fearing for the lives of your loved ones." I mutter to myself. "I'm getting too old for this." Glancing at the clock I sigh. "Time to make dinner, but I better give Master Timothy more lotion first. Poor lad must be having a horrible time."
Stopping by one of the manor's many closets I pull out a small beige bottle and proceed to Timothy's quarters. I knock on the door.
"Master Timothy, it is time for your lotion. May I enter?" I ask quietly.
"Come in Alfred." Says the young master in a tired voice. I enter to see him exactly where he has been all day; lying in bed, probably bored out of his mind.
"Shirt off." I instruct. He complies, wincing as the fabric brushes the burnt skin. I gently begin to apply the lotion and he gives a sigh of relief.
There is no conversation throughout my entire visit until I've finished and am about to leave when Master Timothy speaks.
"Alfred?"
"Yes Master Timothy?"
"What can I do?"
"About what?"
"About this. I can't stand doing nothing."
I ponder this for a moment. "I'm afraid there isn't much to be done about your current condition."
He sighs, head drooping.
"However, I could use some aid monitoring the radio waves. I'm searching for news updates pertaining to the current situation as well as making sure Joker doesn't decide to expand his audience." A smile lights up his face.
"Anything is better than just lying here." He says. He reaches over to his night stand and grabs his radio, pulling it into bed with him so he doesn't need to move much to change the channel. He also snatches his earpiece. "If you want me to monitor a certain station, just say the word."
"I shall keep it in mind Master Timothy. I shall be back in half an hour with your dinner." I leave the, now heavily focused, boy in his room and make my way to the kitchen.
Glancing at the small television situated in the room I notice a news station informing its viewers that it will have a news story on Cobblepot's party later.
Hopefully it will be a story of daring rescue, and not a tragedy.
Batman
It doesn't take long to reach the Iceberg Lounge. I park the Batmobile in an alley a few blocks away.
"Remember the-" I start.
"We know!" My two protégés say in exasperation.
I give them a stern expression. "This is serious."
"We know Batman, but after being reminded a certain amount of times it starts to become rage inducing." Batgirl is exaggerating, though I suppose I have been over it a few too many times.
"Let's get moving." I mutter. We take out our grapplers and get up onto the roof of the building next to us. We rush across rooftops towards our target and leap onto it. "Go." I order curtly. The two nod and hop down the rear of the building.
I watch as they dodge a few guards and slip inside the building. Taking a breath I begin my own mission. Jumping over the edge of the roof, I land silently on a window still. Just behind the window is a guard with his back turned to me.
Quickly, but quietly forcing open the window I slip in the room and stay out of the guard's sight. Looking quickly at my scanner I slip out of the room. No chemicals to indicate explosives.
I repeat this process for each room designated to myself. This is primarily a bomb search, the most obvious way to force us into action is a hostage situation after all, so a bomb threat is completely viable.
The problem is that bombs aren't anywhere near the only option, it could be the guards that will hold someone or everyone hostage, or the guests could all be hired thugs just to draw us out and make us think that they are in trouble when they actually aren't.
I grimace as I consider these possibilities. There are too many for us to account for, we're bound to overlook something.
As much as I hate to even consider it, we might just have to wait for the problem to pop up. That's not to say we won't be trying to stop it by keeping a sharp eye out, but everyone and everything is suspect at this point. We are completely in the dark.
Click.
Damnit.
"Utility belt on da floor Bats." Says the deep voice of a guard. I know he has a gun pointed to the back of my head.
'That's what I get for not paying attention.' I berate myself. Instead of listening to the guard I drop a smoke pellet and dive for cover behind a couch as he starts spraying his shots blindly.
"I've been found out. Double your guard." I hiss into my earpiece.
"You got it Bats." Nightwing replies. "Try and stay alive would ya?"
I don't bother to respond as I hear more guards climbing up stairs or running down the halls to investigate the commotion. I need to relocate.
Noticing the window behind me I quickly break it open and grapple up to the roof. The guards muster the courage to wade through the smoke a moment too late, I'm gone.
"What's going on here?" Cobblepot's voice squaks from inside.
"It was Batman Mr. Cobblepot." A guard says.
"I know that!" Cobblepot barks. "What was he doing?"
"He was jus standin there Mr. Cobblepot. Kinda looked like he zoned out if ya ask me."
"Well I didn't ask you now did I? Now back to your posts, all of you!"
There is a multitude of footsteps as everyone complies. The noise dies down swiftly and there is silence.
It doesn't last very long as a car pulls into the parking lot. The guests are arriving.
"The guests are starting to arrive, get to your positions." I whisper to my two protégés.
"Roger that." Batgirl's voice crackles over the earpiece.
'Now I need to get back inside.' I think to myself, looking at my surroundings with a critical eye. Peering over the edge of the building I see many more windows, but most of them are guarded. I decide to emulate Batgirl and Nighwing's earlier success and slip in through the back.
Waiting until the guards have turned away, I glide down to the ground and slip through the back door.
I enter into what seems to be the storage area. There are several people in the rooms next to me, blocked from view by the beer barrels and fridges of frozen food.
Taking the path through the back of the bar I avoid detection by staying low as I hop over the edge of the bar and into the main room. Luckily, no one has entered yet. Cobblepot is still greeting them.
Taking a glance around the spot Nightwing and Batgirl are expertly hidden, I don't even see them. They are doing a good job. I locate my own hiding spot, a perch closer to the entrance, and slink over to the spot closest to it. I wait for a moment as all the guards mill around upstairs before silently grappling up to my spot when I see an opening.
As I'm settling in, Nightwing comments over the earpieces. "Not your stealthiest effort ever."
I growl and don't dignify the comment with an actual answer.
The guests start filing in to the main room and I scrutinize each one, scanning for hidden weapons or seeing if their actually identity is a reason for suspicion. About twenty minutes pass this way, with nothing of importance making itself know. But at exactly eight twenty-two the situation takes a nasty turn.
As I scrutinize the newest arrival, a feeling of surprise comes over me. The man has a mask over half his face, and the other half belongs unmistakably to Harvey Dent.
Chapter 9 complete.
