The last time we saw our Dynamic Duo, Batman had just found Dick at the abandoned steelworks. It, however, wasn't quite the happy reunion Batman had been hoping for. Dick had been left in a giant stamping device which could be triggered by any one of a number of electric eyes. Will Batman be able to find a way out for Dick before it's too late?
On Wings of Steel
Chapter 10 – The Storm's Eye
"It'll be all right," Batman said, trying his best to keep his voice from shaking. His eyes were focused on Dick, but then something else caught Batman's eye. On the wall across from him, about two feet to his right, was a small, clear, round plastic panel. There was a bright red light glowing steadily in the middle the plastic surface, presumably one of the electric eyes.
"I can take them out with the Batarang," Batman said, still searching the room for more.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dick desperately shake his head. "You don't know how many of them there are," Dick said worriedly.
"Did the Riddler say anything?" Batman asked, his eyes still searching the room. "Any riddles or clues to give away how many there might be? It doesn't sound like something he would be able to keep to himself."
Again, Dick shook his head. "At least, I don't think so. I can't specifically remember him saying anything that might be related to a number, but then again…I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind," he added apologetically.
"More than understandable," Batman said reassuringly. "Don't worry about it."
"But, Batman…"
"We'll figure it out," Batman cut Dick off gently but firmly. His eyes going up to the walls again, he said, "They're not exactly inconspicuous."
"There's one over there," Dick replied immediately. He lifted his head slightly and nodded it towards the wall across from him, which was on Batman's left. "I've been watching it this entire time."
"That's two," Batman said, still searching for more. Then he pointed to the wall behind Dick. "There's another one behind you." He spent another minute meticulously searching the room for more. "See anymore?"
"There!" Dick said, using his left index finger to point. "Behind you, just to your right." He swallowed hard and said, "I just noticed it. Don't move or you might trip it."
Batman obeyed, but he darted his eyes to his right, looking for the signature bright red glow. Dick was right. Another foot or two to his right, and he could have easily tripped this one or the one on the opposite wall.
"Four," Batman whispered, nodding his head slowly. "One on each wall."
"Are we sure there aren't anymore?" Dick asked hurriedly. "What if there are some that aren't as easily seen? What if they're behind grey painted plastic to match the walls?"
Batman thought they had caught all of the electric eyes. Besides, four seemed like a nice even number for such a thing. But did Batman really want to put Dick's life on the line for what was really nothing more than an educated guess? Wasn't that basically an assumption?
Bruce remembered a time when he was younger. Whenever he made an assumption of any sort, Alfred would correct him with the saying, 'To assume makes an ass out of you and me.' Alfred never swore, so hearing him say such a thing repeatedly always made it stick out in Bruce's mind perhaps more than anything else.
No. He really didn't have enough information to assume that there were only four electric eyes. He certainly wasn't going to risk taking them out right now, only to find out he was entirely wrong, and watch Dick's life squeezed out of him right before his eyes. There had to be another way to find out if there were more. Something more reliable.
Batman considered this for a while before the answer hit him. "Smoke pellets," he said. "If I set off one of the smoke pellets in my utility belt, it should create enough dust in the air for us to clearly see the paths of the lasers, but it shouldn't be enough to trip them."
Again, Batman could see Dick swallowing hard. The boy's brown eyes were large and round, seemingly glued to Batman and still painfully pleading. It hurt Batman to look at him. It was an expression akin to the one he had seen on Dick all those years ago just after his parents had been killed – terrified and uncertain. When Bruce took Dick in, he had promised himself that he would never see that look on Dick's face again. Yet here they were.
"Are we sure?" Dick asked. "Let's not forget what's on the line here." Dick's tone was slightly joking, but his voice cracked on the last few works, completely ruining the effect he had been going for.
However, it was then that Batman noticed something – Dick kept using the word 'we' in relation to the two of them. He was no longer simply speaking for himself; he had seemed to take Batman into the equation like they were a team. Like there couldn't be one without the other. Dick had never done that before, not in all the years they'd been living together.
"Dick," Batman repeated, meeting Dick's gaze steadily, "I told you, I am not going to let you die. Do you hear me? I'm going to get you out of this. I promise." Batman's gaze faltered slightly, and then he added, "And this isn't like all of my broken promises. Not that the others weren't important, but…your life is far more important than anything else I could ever promise to you in a million years. I'm not going to break this one." He paused a long time for effect before he asked, "Do you trust me?"
Dick's bottom lip quivered the tiniest bit, but his eyes didn't waver. He took one more deep breath before he nodded. "More than anyone," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Batman nodded back, once again feeling like his eyes could communicate more than his words ever could. "Okay," he replied, slowly reaching for his utility belt. Before Batman opened the pocket on his belt that held the smoke pellets, he told Dick, "You watch the wall to my left and the one behind me. I'll watch the other two. Count the lasers as quickly as you can."
Dick nodded again. He clenched his hands into fists, apparently preparing himself to be crushed to death should the situation arise.
Very slowly and deliberately, Batman retrieved a smoke pellet from his belt. Using his thumb and middle finger, he flung it across the room. It bounced across the floor before it detonated, and that was something that Batman hadn't been expecting. It never occurred to him that the pellet would do that on the firm concrete floor, possibly setting off one of the electric eyes not by the smoke itself, but by the pellet.
Batman grimaced, his stomach seeming to rise to his throat while he waited for it to settle. He was preparing himself for the loud crash of the metal stamping device dropping down on Dick, and he almost wanted to apologize to the boy. Beg for forgiveness in the last seconds of Dick's life for being so careless, for not taking Dick's concerns into consideration enough. He was really going to have to work on that.
The pellet continued to dribble across the floor before it finally came to rest against the large iron table on which Dick was lying. Bruce braced himself for the impact, to potentially be splattered with the blood and guts of the one he considered a son. But then no loud bang came. The smoke pellet exploded a moment later, sending plumes of grey smoke into the room.
Batman tried to snap himself back to reality, to concentrate on counting the lasers like he was supposed to be doing. He scanned his eyes carefully but quickly across the walls, making sure that there were indeed only two laser beams that he could see – one to Dick's right, and one directly behind Dick, just as he'd originally counted.
Then came Dick's voice through the smoke. "Batman! There! From the ceiling!"
Batman's eyes darted upwards, and that was when he saw it – the single lone laser that both he and Dick had previously missed. It was positioned in about the center of the room, just below where Dick's boots were hanging over the end of the table.
"Good god," Batman whispered. He couldn't believe both he had Dick had completely missed that one. Then again, they had been searching the walls, not the ceiling. It hadn't even struck Batman that one of the electric eyes might have been put in the ceiling. What a silly and stupid mistake to make, especially one that was so crucial to Dick's survival! It wouldn't have taken long to trip that one, not with the Batarang he was planning on tossing across the room in another minute.
Batman immediately looked at Dick, his eyes pleading for forgiveness for making such a careless oversight. He didn't even need to vocally apologize for Dick to completely understand.
"Batman," Dick said firmly, "it's okay. I didn't see that one either, and it's been nearly directly over me for almost…twelve hours? Your plan worked, just like you knew it would. It's okay," he repeated. "We found it."
Still not entirely convinced that he was able to do this after all, Batman asked shakily, "You didn't see any others, did you?"
Dick shook his head. "Just the three."
His resolve beginning to waver even more by the minute, Batman frowned deeply as the smoke slowly cleared from the room. Even if they had caught all of the lasers this time, did Batman really trust his aim with the Batarang to be as steady as he needed it to be? There were still so many things that could go wrong. Never mind his aim, but what if the Batarang deflected, bouncing back willy-nilly into the room? Even if his aim was perfect, there was absolutely nothing he could do to control the sometimes unfortunate laws of physics.
"Batman," Dick said, sounding weirdly parental and authoritative. "Look at me."
Batman hesitated a moment before facing his young ward, lying there, strapped to a table and completely helpless. Batman couldn't quite help it, but Dick's tone of voice made him smile despite the gruesome circumstances that were laid out before them.
"I'm supposed to take that tone with you," Batman said flatly, "not the other way around."
This caused Dick to smile the slightest bit as well, and perhaps this was exactly what they had needed – a well-placed joke to lighten the mood and break the tension. Batman had to admit that everything – especially his own misguided attempts at being a hero – had been quickly getting to him.
Dick said, "You taught me once that sometimes your biggest obstacle is yourself. That we don't attempt things for the simple reason that we don't think we can, and that's perhaps one of the biggest disservices we can do to ourselves. You told me that just before I decided to run for student council president – that I'd never know unless I tried."
Dick paused, still smiling. He seemed to be caught up in some long ago memory. "I'm going to tell you the same thing you told me then – 'You can do this. I know you can.'" Running his teeth over his bottom lip, Dick added, "I trust you."
Batman perhaps needed Dick to vocalize that more than either of them had realized. Sure, Dick had nodded his head before when Batman had asked Dick if he trusted him, but it was different to actually hear Dick speak those words. Bruce knew that Dick trusted him, at least in theory. Bruce was his guardian; Dick had to have at least a little bit of faith in him, but Bruce had done so much to damage that as of late. Bruce had broken so many promises to Dick, he sometimes wondered if or why the boy should trust him at all anymore.
Dick finding out that he was Batman probably helped matters quite a bit. Dick seemed to be cutting Bruce a lot more leeway since he had learned the truth, but Bruce really didn't want his secret identity to give him a free pass. He still wanted to be held accountable for his actions, and he wanted Dick to hold him to things when Bruce made a promise. The fact that Dick could firmly look him in the eye and tell him, without so much as flinching, that he had faith in him was really what Bruce had needed most in that moment. What he had needed to steady his hand and his heart.
Batman stared directly into Dick's eyes from under his cowl. Swallowing and taking a moment to gather his courage, Batman nodded once. Then Batman slowly and carefully reached for the Batarang compartment of his utility belt. He undid the latch, pulling the Batarang from its slot. Then he took a moment to look around at all of the electric eyes again, debating which one might be the best to take out first.
"I think the one on the wall behind me first, don't you?" Batman asked. "It is the closest."
"Batman, wait!"
This caused Batman's heart to begin thumping anew. He shot Dick a sideways stare and tilted his head. This really was not helping Batman's nerves!
"I still trust you," Dick clarified, picking up on Batman's expression. "I do, but I just thought of something else. How do we know that actually taking them out isn't going to set them off? I mean, destroying them is technically breaking the laser, is it not?"
There was that word again – we. Bruce didn't know why, but the more Dick used that term, the more he wanted to smile. There had been a time not so very long ago when Bruce didn't know if they'd become a team at all. When he'd first taken Dick in, Bruce had had high hopes for the two of them developing a solid father-son connection, but he never imagined that such a thing could happen. Especially as of late, with Bruce breaking so many promises to Dick, he was beginning to wonder if Dick would ever really look at him as a father figure. But now, Bruce knew that Dick not only looked up to him in such a fashion, but that he felt just as strongly for Bruce as Bruce did about him. When Dick kept referring to the two of them as 'we', it only served to cement that fact in Bruce's mind. They had connected in a way that probably neither one of them had seen coming, but that neither could possibly turn away from now. They were in this together.
Batman shook his head, forcing his mind back to Dick's question. "It wouldn't be the first time I've destroyed lasers like these in such a fashion," Batman explained, tightening his grip around his Batarang. "I've disabled many museum alarm systems and the like." He glanced around at the offending electric eyes one more time before he said, "As long as I take it out without interrupting the laser first…it'll be fine." He stared at Dick and said, "I promise. I wouldn't risk your life if I wasn't sure."
Dick took a shaky breath, then let it out steadily and slowly. Eventually, he nodded and said, "I'm ready then."
"I'm not going to throw it though," Batman explained. "It's too risky. We can't risk the Batarang ricocheting off at an inconvenient angle. I'll just cautiously make my way around the room."
Batman slowly backed up against the wall, Dick watching him like a hawk. When his back was against the cold and hard concrete stones, Batman inched right towards the first laser he intended to disable. He gripped the Batarang firmly in his right hand, then brought it upwards, still keeping it pressed against the wall.
At this point, Dick squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hands tightly into fists. He did trust Batman. He trusted his guardian more than he could ever describe, but a part of him was still terrified of something going wrong. His life was on the line after all. Dick knew that Batman was more than capable of doing what he was planning, but one tiny little mistake, one tiny little slip in the wrong direction, and it would all be over.
In one quick movement, he brought the sharp end of the Batarang down and directly into the protective plastic covering the laser. He did so at a forty-five degree angle to get to the inner workings of the laser without actually tripping it. A loud shattering sound echoed throughout the room, and then there was a momentary and strange buzzing sound. This caused Batman's heart to leap into his throat, thinking he had accidentally tripped something. But then all was quiet again, and the red light eventually faded and went out.
When Dick didn't feel about a million pounds of steel and iron pressing down on him and squishing him flat, he dared to open his eyes. All that was left where the laser had been was a shattered little pane of plastic with absolutely nothing but darkness behind it. Batman had done it.
Dick let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. It came as a solid rush, and then almost immediately, he drew another back in to replace it. It was bordering on relief and amusement, Dick not quite able to believe that it had worked. The laser had been disabled, and he hadn't been crushed to a pulp underneath the weight of the equipment hovering over him.
After lying here in the same spot for such a long time, Dick had to admit that he had slowly begun to lose hope. He started to doubt that he'd ever see Bruce again, that he'd ever see Wayne manor or Alfred ever again. In fact, a part of him had started to come to terms with his own demise. They were some dark and grim thoughts he'd been having over the last twelve hours or so, but at the time, Dick also thought they were necessary in some ways.
Dick didn't want to die, but he also wanted to be prepared for it when it did come. He didn't want to be lying here with delusions about being rescued only to have all of his hopes crushed in an instant. Dick thought there was quite a bit more dignity in meeting death with certainty and acceptance rather than denial.
Was that the way his parents had felt just before their worlds had gone dark forever? Dick didn't know, but he thought that was most likely how they would have wanted to be remembered – as confronting their fate with bravery rather than in fear of what would become of them.
It had absolutely nothing to do with Bruce, or how much Dick trusted him and hoped he would be rescued. Rather, it had absolutely everything to do with the Riddler. With the madman whose insane laughter still sent chills down Dick's spine when he thought about it. Dick was well aware of the things that the Riddler had done, with how many lives he'd managed to take despite Batman's best efforts to stop him. When a psychotic maniac like that was determined, there was little even a man like Batman could do to stop him.
"Oh god," Dick gasped out, "it worked." He continued to breathe in and out heavily, well aware of the large beads of sweat absolutely pouring down his face now.
Batman didn't reply at first. He decided that perhaps he didn't need to say anything, happy with the fact that he and Dick could communicate so much more deeply without words now. In the end, however, he said, "I promised you it would. And I know," Batman said, staring down at the Batarang in his hands, "I haven't kept very many promises to you in the past. You don't have a whole hell of a lot of reason to trust me anymore. I've let you down so many times-"
"Bruce," Dick cut him off softly, then he smiled. "We've been over this, haven't we? I know now why you lied, and I don't blame you. Not one bit. And I still do trust you. More than anyone else in this world. Even before I found all this out. You took me in when no one else would. That in and of itself earns far more trust than you can manage to destroy by breaking a few promises." He swallowed before he added, "That's a nature of a boy's relationship with his father. Their trust may be tested from time to time, but that boy knows that his father is someone he can always rely on. No matter what."
Batman's chest was currently too tight to speak, so he simply nodded. He stared at Dick, trying to convey everything that was going on inside of him at the moment. There was a profound sense of pride in Batman that Dick was now the one giving him encouragement and pep talks when it was usually the other way around. There was also a deep sense of love for this boy that was lying before him, just waiting for the freedom that Batman would eventually bring him.
But then something else occurred to Bruce. "Batman," he corrected. "When I'm wearing the suit, it's Batman. It wouldn't do to say such a thing in front of a criminal or…anyone else for that matter. It's a good habit to get into now."
"Right," Dick said quietly. "Sorry." He knew Bruce was right, and Dick couldn't believe he'd actually made that mistake, especially when they weren't even in the safety of Wayne manor. Dick had been proud of how well he'd been keeping the two personalities separate and distinct. At home, something like that might be excusable, but there was no telling who could be listening when they were in a public place. Luckily, they were alone here; if the Riddler was listening or watching them at all, surely he would have burst in by now to impede Dick's escape. But Dick really did need to be more careful.
"But enough about that," Batman said, waving it off. "Let's just get the rest of these lasers taken care of and get you out of there. I daresay you've been there long enough."
"You're not kidding," Dick commented, attempting to stretch as much as he was capable of in his current position. He grimaced and added, "My hands and feet keep going numb."
"Well, then," Batman said, assessing the rest of the electric eyes. The next closest one in proximity to him was the one directly behind Dick, so he decided to focus on that one next. It was then that Batman realized that it might be more prudent to sneak around the room, disabling each laser as he encountered it. The paths of the lasers would be pretty easy to avoid now that he knew where they were, and that way, he wouldn't have to worry about the Batarang ricocheting off at any inappropriate angles.
"I'm not going to throw it," Batman told Dick, picking up on the boy's growing expression of worry again. "You're right – it wouldn't do to have it trip a laser by bouncing off of something. The first one worked pretty well," he said, nodding to the now defunct laser, "so I'm going to take the others out the same way. I trust my stealth abilities far more than I do the laws of physics."
Tightening his grip around the Batarang, Batman dropped to the floor in order to keep out of the paths of the lasers. They were all at about shoulder height, so Batman knew it wouldn't be very hard to stay below them. He began crawling past the large metal table on which Dick was lying.
"You have plenty of room to clear it," Dick said, straining his head to the left to watch Batman's movements. "As long as you stay underneath the top of the table, you'll be fine," he added, echoing Batman's thoughts.
Neither one of them spoke again, each too caught up in the tension of the situation. The only sound in the room was that of Batman's boots squeaking against the floor occasionally and the slithering of his cape trailing along behind him.
When Batman reached the wall behind Dick, he continued to crawl until he was within arm's reach of the next laser. Then he carefully climbed to his feet, the Batarang clenched tightly in his right hand. He took this laser out the same way he'd destroyed the first one – by plunging the tip of his Batarang into it at a sharp angle. With another shattering of plastic and a buzz signifying the death of the laser mechanism, the light slowly burned out.
Batman worked his way around the room, taking out the last two lasers on the walls in a similar fashion. When he didn't have worry about any horizontal laser beams anymore, he straightened up the final time, directing his gaze to the last electric eye on the ceiling – the one that both he and Dick had failed to initially notice.
Batman eyed it for a long time, taking a deep breath and compulsively clenching his hand around the Batarang. Truth be told, the laser wouldn't cause them that much trouble as long as they were careful, but Batman still thought it best to take it out entirely. Then they could move freely in the room and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
"You can do it, Batman," Dick said, watching his mentor closely. "Just one more left."
Nodding once, Batman leaned back slightly, raising his arm over his head. He watched the red eye of the laser carefully, taking aim before he flung the Batarang as hard as he could at the plastic panel that was guarding it. Both he and Dick shut their eyes once the Batarang was thrown, too afraid to watch its path through the air.
Neither one of them looked again until the sound of shattering plastic signaled the end of this final laser. The small shards of plastic rained down on Batman, and he turned his head up into them, enjoying them like he would a spring rain. It was over and he had done it. All five of the lasers were now destroyed, and he and Dick could safely evacuate the room once and for all.
Not wasting any more time, Batman quickly hurried over to the table, replacing the Batarang in his utility belt as he went. Next, he withdrew the Bat-laser, using it to make fast work out of the ropes that held Dick.
As soon as Batman cut the last one, Dick tried to fly up into the sitting position. That, however, proved difficult when his back and limbs screamed in pain. Dick opened his mouth, but only a small whine of agony escaped him. He fell back onto the table again, grimacing at the discomfort in his body.
"Careful," Batman warned him. "You've been in the same position for a long time. You're going to be stiff and sore for a while."
Batman stepped closer to the table, curling his left arm around Dick. He slowly helped Dick into a sitting position, the boy grunting in pain as he went. When he was finally fully sitting up, Dick leaned forward, using his hands to try and massage some feeling back into his legs.
"All right?" Batman asked uncertainly.
Dick nodded. "Yeah," he replied, sounding a bit out of breath. He didn't say anything else right away, but he remained sitting there like that, staring down at his legs. He looked almost like a lost little boy who had been through hell and back.
"Dick?" Batman asked in concern.
"I am," Dick insisted. "I just…" He pressed his lips together, falling into silence. When he moved again, it was so quickly, Batman scarcely had time to process what was happening.
A moment later, Dick had thrown himself against Batman's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the Caped Crusader's neck. He buried his face in Batman's chest and hugged his guardian as if he was clinging on for dear life. And perhaps he was.
Batman's own strong arms came up, encompassing Dick's quivering back and cradling his young ward against him.
"It's okay," Batman whispered. He raised a hand to Dick's head next, smoothing his unkempt hair back. "I'm here. You're safe."
Dick pulled his head away from Batman's chest, looking up into those warm and comforting blue eyes of his guardian. "I really thought I was going to die here," Dick said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "I was preparing myself for it, for the fact that I'd never see you, or Alfred, or Aunt Harriet again." Dick then sucked in a breath, hanging his head slightly. "It wasn't that I didn't think you'd come. I just…"
"I know," Batman gently cut him off. He used one of his index fingers, placing it under Dick's chin and directing his ward's gaze up at him. Then Batman wiped away Dick's tears with his gloved thumbs. "It's rather hard to always keep a positive outlook when you're in the throes of a crazy criminal's deathtrap. I've been there many times myself."
"I don't know how you do this," Dick mused. "Dealing with mentally unhinged people like this all the time and putting your own life on the line in the process." Dick smiled, now not able to take his eyes from Bruce's own. "It must take an incredibly strong man. But I already knew that."
This earned a smile from Batman. "I love this city too much to not do it. And, well…it's the compulsion of not letting anyone else go through the horrific things that we have by losing their parents."
This forced Dick into silence. He frowned deeply, staring down at his lap. Once again, Batman knew exactly what he was thinking, but he chose not to point it out. Nor did Dick. They had already discussed that topic and the conversation hadn't gone well at all. Once was enough.
Batman cleared his throat and said, "Let's get you home." He wrapped an arm around Dick again and asked, "Can you walk?"
Dick nodded. "Yeah, I think."
Batman helped Dick to the edge of the table where the boy took a moment to bend and straighten his legs several times. When he was ready, Dick pushed himself to the very edge of the table, slowly planting his feet on the floor. Batman helped to keep him steady, never letting go of his young ward's shoulders.
The very first step he took, Dick faltered a bit. His left leg wanted to give out from under him, but Batman was there, keeping his arm around the young boy and catching him before he could fall.
Dick clenched his hands around Batman's arms until he stood up straighter. When was sure his legs were finally going to support his weight, he smiled up at his guardian. "Thanks."
"I'll never let you fall again," answered Batman.
They began making their way to the door, Dick's steps getting a bit steadier the closer they got. But there was something in the back of Dick's mind – some little nagging feeling that kept telling him that this had all been too easy. It was one of the few times in his life Dick wished he had been wrong.
Before Dick and Batman reached the door, it suddenly flew open the rest of the way, banging back loudly against the wall. This caused both Dick and Batman to gasp, and Dick tightened his fingers around the older man's arm.
The Riddler stood before them, his figure illuminated in the doorway by the now very bright sunlight streaming into the next room.
"Isn't that precious?" the Riddler asked around a cackle, throwing his head back in glee. He stopped suddenly, throwing a glare in Batman and Dick's direction. "You really didn't think I'd let you walk out of here that easily, did you?"
"I'll admit," Batman replied dryly, "I had hoped it would be that easy. But no, I really didn't think so. I know you much too well for that." He straightened up, trying to appear as intimidating to the Riddler as possible. He tilted his head back, narrowing his eyes and staring down the nose of his cowl at his opponent. "You didn't disappoint me."
Dick looked at Batman out of the corner of his eye. "You knew he'd be back?" Dick asked.
"Oh yes," Batman replied, not taking his eyes off the Riddler. "Like I said, I know him way too well for that. I wasn't able to figure out what his plan was, involving you in this sick, sinister plot, but I didn't think he'd let me take you out of here that easily, no."
"You didn't figure it out?" the Riddler asked patronizingly. He entered the room, keeping close to the wall, well out of Batman's reach at the moment. "You really are slacking, Batman. I remember a time when I didn't have to help you along by giving you so many hints. You used to be able to keep up with me right out of the starting gate." He sighed heavily, sounding like he was the most put-upon member of society rather than the other way around. "Well, then, perhaps one more little riddle to help you with that, hm?"
He turned to face Batman directly, tilting his head down, but still keeping his eyes pinned on his opponent. "Riddle me this, Batman: I can make you feel like you're dying, or make you feel very much alive. I can make you feel like you're flying above the highest clouds, or like you're at the lowest of the low. I can be the best thing that's ever happened to you, or the very worst. Once lost, I can be very hard to find again, but once you have me, I'm not always easy to get rid of. What am I?"
Without missing a beat, Dick replied tonelessly, "Love."
"Correct, birdbrain," the Riddler said, giggling maniacally. "Love."
The Riddler didn't offer anything more, and Batman was almost ready to ask what love had to do with anything. But then the Riddler began pacing in front of them, which forced Batman into silence. He wasn't sure what the Riddler might do or what he was planning, so Batman chose to watch him closely rather than trying to engage him in conversation.
"You see," the Riddler said thoughtfully, now appearing completely calm, "something occurred to me some time ago. For the longest time, it remained such a mystery to everyone who was behind that Batman mask. And you know me – I love puzzles – and this seemed like the biggest one them all. But I didn't know where to begin, and I hadn't the first clue about who you could possibly be under there." The Riddler stopped walking and turned to face Batman fully again. "But now, I believe I've cracked it."
Batman tried not to react; he simply kept staring at the Riddler with that same deadpan expression. It certainly wasn't the first time criminals had bragged to him that they knew his true identity when in reality, they didn't have a clue. Oftentimes, their plan was to lure Batman into saying something careless and out of fear that might give them the hint they so desperately needed to figure it out. Batman was sure it definitely wouldn't be the last time that this happened, and he had quickly discovered that the best thing to do was to remain calm.
"You said something rather interesting," the Riddler told them. "A couple of rather interesting things actually. You gave a newspaper interview some time ago – many years, in fact – speaking about some of your greatest wishes other than fighting crime. You happened to mention that you would have really loved to have a family, but unfortunately, that wasn't a possibility because of your commitment to crime fighting."
The Riddler paused for a very long time, giving this piece of information time to sink in. He looked back and forth between Batman and Dick several times, the very corner of his mouth curling up into a sneer.
Batman still tried not to show any emotion, but he felt a significant sting of fear settle into his stomach. It felt almost like a brick sitting there – a large concrete slab, pressing uncomfortably against his insides. It occurred to Batman that the Riddler just may have been listening this entire time. The Riddler could have all the ideas in the world about Batman's secret identity, but when he'd actually heard Dick say as much, then they had a problem.
Still, Batman reminded himself to keep his wits about him. The Riddler could very well be full of himself. That was what he liked to do after all – act like he knew everything about every subject possible. The Riddler was a wily creature, yes, but he still had a lot to learn. The very fact that he used his intelligence for crime of all things was testament to that.
"But then I was watching television at the Gotham Penitentiary not very long ago," the Riddler continued.
"Which is where you should still be," Dick commented, unable to control himself. He knew he shouldn't be antagonizing the psychotic maniac that had just kidnapped him, but he couldn't quite help himself. Back in jail was exactly where the Riddler needed to be, and he wasn't afraid to say so.
Batman, however, gave him a warning look out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head once, cautioning Dick not to say anything further.
In the end, the Riddler didn't even seem to notice. He continued on with his story like he hadn't been interrupted at all. "It's all part of Warden Crichton's plan to rehabilitate us by letting us have as normal a life as possible." The Riddler seemed oddly amused by this. He tilted his head, staring off across the room at one of the walls and smiling like a crazy person.
Dick wanted to tell him that the warden's plan seemed to be failing, but he took Batman's warning seriously. Dick knew that Batman had far more experience with criminals such as the Riddler than he did, and if Batman didn't want him to backtalk to the Riddler anymore, then he would obey. Dick snapped his mouth shut, willing himself to remain quiet.
"You gave a very brief interview that I happened to catch," the Riddler told Batman next. "The reporter asked you if you had given any further thought to having a family. You said no, that it was no longer a thought that you entertained." He stopped and stared at Batman for a long time, as if daring the Caped Crusader to prove him wrong. Finally, the Riddler went on, "I thought this was very strange indeed. One doesn't just stop yearning for a family. I figured the only way that your wants would have been assuaged was if you had gotten exactly what you wanted."
Dick didn't care if the Riddler was watching him; he turned his head and looked up at Batman in concern. He could see Batman swallowing, watching the Riddler in that calculating way of his. Dick could tell Batman was considering his options, his mind probably going faster than Dick could even comprehend.
The Riddler nodded and continued, "This was my hint. The one final big riddle that I had been waiting for. I always knew that the man behind Batman had to be wealthy. That much was a given from the very beginning. There's no other way a man could spend so very many countless hours fighting crime instead of working like the rest of society has to do. Besides, you have way too many flashy contraptions and devices to be anything but rich. Everyone knows that. It's common knowledge by now. But which one of Gotham's elite could you possibly be? There's way too many of you stiffs to count, let alone narrow the list down to any sort of definitive selection. So that's when it hit me – to look up all of the millionaire citizens of this cesspool of a city who have had children in the last year or so. Or perhaps even…adopted." The Riddler's head was tilted downwards, but he was staring at Dick through his eyelashes.
"But still," the Riddler said around a sigh, "there were quite a few of you to choose from. Having and adopting children isn't severely limited like you think it would be in such a piss poor city. Imagine that. But it had to be adoption, didn't it?" the Riddler asked, sounding genuinely curious. "If you don't even have the time to hold down a steady job, you certainly wouldn't have the time to dedicate to an actual romantic relationship. I imagine there are very few women in the world who would stand for being constantly stood up in favor of criminals. It had to be adoption," the Riddler repeated, getting back to the point at hand. "Then you could conveniently dump the child with the butler or the nanny while you took off gallivanting around the city."
Dick could feel his face burning, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. He knew the Riddler wasn't referring to him, but Dick still felt slightly shamed. Was that really what he had been this entire time – the one who had constantly been stood up in favor of criminals? The Riddler made it all sound so petty. Besides, how dare the Riddler try and mock Batman like this? Dick knew that the Riddler was pretty full of himself and that this was his game – playing with Batman like a cat would with a mouse – but it still made Dick angry. Dick hadn't fully understood it at first, of course; he had been as clueless as the Riddler once upon a time. But Batman gave so much of himself to his crusade and to the city. The Riddler acted like this was all a form of amusement for Batman, like he took pleasure in making certain sacrifices. The truth of the matter was that Batman deserved to be praised for everything he had done, not made fun of because he couldn't have everything he wanted. Dick hadn't always seen that, but he did now.
"But then. Then," the Riddler emphasized, "it hit me. The very last piece of the puzzle I needed to finally solve the problem that's been plaguing me forever. It also had to be an older child, didn't it? Perhaps a teenager, or someone well on his way to becoming one. A child that wouldn't need as much care and coddling as a baby might. Surprisingly, there really weren't very many millionaires that had taken teenagers into their care within the last year or so. In fact…there was just one," the Riddler spoke slowly, holding one of his index fingers up in the air.
The Riddler then tilted his finger downwards until it was pointing straight at Batman. The Riddler sneered and said, "Go on and take a wild guess as to who that was."
What next, Batfans?
Has the Riddler truly figured out the secret identity of Batman?
Will Batman be able to think of a plan to put everything right?
Will Batman and Dick be able to escape, or will the Riddler keep them guessing?
Tune in next time,
Same fan site…
Same fan channel.
Mum's the word until then!