A/N: Thanks for the comments TabbyKat405 and Blas!
Chapter 10:
Twenty minutes earlier:
"Wakey-wakey, little boy," Joker snarled. There was no response so the villain grabbed Robin's chin and roughly shook his head from side to side. A soft moan escaped the young crime-fighter's mouth and his eyes fluttered.
"Good enough," the man growled then changed his mind. Raising his right hand, Joker slapped the left side of Robin's face as hard as he could. The boy's head snapped over his right shoulder and his eyes flew open, revealing normally light-blue circles that were darkened by pain.
Joker had Robin sitting on a metal chair, his arms restrained behind him with handcuffs giving his small wrists a rigid hug. The boy's ankles were stuck against the front legs of the chair, heavily wrapped with silver duct tape, and there was a rope tightly encircling both the chair and his torso.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, kid!" Joker crowed with delight. "Now that I finally have you, we have some things to discuss. Are you ready to have a chat with someone much smarter than you?"
"Already done that," Robin mumbled out of the right side of his mouth. He tried to wriggle his hands out of the cold metal surrounding them but stopped when he realized he was scraping skin off his wrists.
"My henchmen?!" the villain laughed hysterically. "They're stupid. Even you, kid, are smarter than them."
"No," the boy replied, "Batman."
Joker's maniacal grin turned into a frown. "You talked to Batman?!" he shrieked. "I thought you were a loner!"
"Right on both counts," Robin replied wearily. "Can we get this conversation over with please? I'm sleepy."
"Is it past your bedtime, little one?" the villain sneered.
"Not sure…" Robin's breathing hitched slightly before he continued, "…don't know what, uh, what time it is."
"Somewhere between I caught you and you're dead," Joker declared loudly with a wicked grin. "Unless you agree to my terms."
Robin was irritated with the villain and he hadn't slept for more than twenty minutes at a time in over two days. So, he closed his eyes and allowed his chin to drop to his chest.
"Oh no you don't, kid!" Joker exclaimed and punched Robin square in the jaw on the left side of his face. The boy's eyes popped open again and he managed to growl.
"You're not going to sleep or pass out until we are done talking! And the conversation is over when I say it's over. Got it?!"
Rolling his eyes, Robin spit some blood out of his mouth and glared at the villain. This time he tried freeing his legs but the duct tape wrapped securely around his ankles prevented him from moving them more than a centimeter.
"Then finish talking so I can go to sleep!" he yelled. "I had a rough night, taking out three men that were each twice my size, and I need my rest!"
"Yeah, they did a pretty good number on you, didn't they?" Joker stated with a fiendish laugh. Abruptly changing his tone from darkly malicious to sugary sweet, the man continued, "Tell me the specifics, please. They don't seem to remember much."
"That's what happens when you get kicked in the head," Robin snapped irritably.
"Sooooooo," the villain drew the word out in anticipation, completely ignoring the kid's snarky comment. "What did they do to you?"
"Because that would be the smart thing to do," Robin retorted sarcastically. "Telling the villain who wants to kill you where you got hurt so he can exploit your weaknesses."
The hit connected with his stomach this time and Robin gasped in pain and, now, a little bit of fear. He was no match for this man; he should have just stayed in the tree. But the guy had blown up his last connection to the circus! The eleven-year-old scowled at that thought and anger replaced the fear.
Joker glared at the boy who should be trembling in fear but was struggling against his bonds instead.
"You've foiled three of my schemes, kid, and I'm being nice by giving you a choice."
"Those were plans?!" Robin exclaimed, both eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Putting Batman in a big box, dancing around a pair of men in the street and hiring four guys who couldn't take care of a small boy? You need to work on your planning skills," he finished with a smirk. If he was going to die anyway, he might as well insult his murderer until he couldn't speak anymore.
"What…why you little…" Joker stumbled over the words in fury. The kid was practically calling him an idiot!
"Yeah, one of your guys, the coward who ran away, called you one of Gotham City's most brilliant villains. Boy, was he ever wrong!"
That earned Robin a vicious kick to the ribs and he cried out in agony. Stars flamed up in his mind and fireworks exploded over the villain's head. The young crime-fighter decided that now was a good time to stop talking, he could barely breathe anyway, so he dropped his head and gasped for air.
"I don't even know if I want to give you a choice now," Joker snarled. "However, you could be trained to become a valuable asset. So, here are your options. First, I kill you. Second, I beat you up some more and then I kill you. Third, you join my team and become my sidekick. You have thirty seconds to make your decision."
Without hesitation, Robin slowly lifted his head and glared at the villain.
"You forgot the fourth choice," he stated breathlessly. "You release me, we fight, I take you down and you go back to prison. I choose number four."
Robin somehow managed to add a chuckle to the end of the sentence and Joker's face darkened with rage. That, for the man, was the last straw.
"And I choose number two, idiotic kid. You're going to wish you had chosen number one in about an hour. But before the real fun starts, I'm just going to rough you up a little. There aren't enough colors on your body. You need some more red," Joker slammed his fist into the deep cut on the small forehead, "and some more blue," he finished as his fists flew around the small torso.
His ears were ringing, blood was streaming down his entire face and he was sure that every single rib was shattered. But Robin refused to give in – he was going to hold on as long as he could, do his best to be as strong as his dad. With that thought in mind, he spit at the blurry face of the villain. A mixture of blood, sweat and saliva flew into Joker's eyes and he took a step back, throwing his hands up and wiping the stuff off his face.
"You're going to pay for that, imbecile," the man growled at the boy. There was a beat of silence as they glared at each other, one in fury and the other in defiance.
"In fact, you're going to regret being born," Joker snarled, pulling a wicked-looking knife from his jacket pocket.
"And you're going to regret doing all of this!" a booming voice thundered from the direction of the door.
Batman pulled up short when he arrived at the entrance to the warehouse. He needed to evaluate the situation and determine the best course of action. Quietly sliding into the shadow behind the open door, the Caped Crusader peered through the crack between the wall and the door. Robin was in a chair, completely immobilized, extremely bloody and gasping in pain.
He could also see Joker and was about to attack when he heard the villain explain the boy's choices. Batman's eyes narrowed – die or become the sidekick to a man like Joker?! The independent Robin wasn't meant to be a sidekick but he was in a difficult position. Would the young crime-fighter give in when his own life was threatened?
"You release me, we fight, I take you down and you go back to prison. I choose number four."
The boy's breathless, pain-filled words were accompanied by a low chuckle and the Caped Crusader's eyes widened in astonishment.
Robin was the strongest, bravest kid Batman had ever met – braver than many adults. Very few people would be bold enough to even talk to Joker, much less try to goad the man into a fight!
"…and some more blue."
Batman quickly shook himself out of his stupor. Joker was pummeling the boy's torso and the Caped Crusader strode angrily around the door. Robin spit in the man's face, the villain growled something about paying for an imbecile and the imposing figure of the furious hero marched into the room.
"In fact, you're going to regret being born."
"And you're going to regret doing all of this!" Batman roared as he stalked toward the nearly-unconscious boy and startled, wide-eyed villain.
Joker turned toward the back of the warehouse and started to race away but the Caped Crusader was already upon him. He showed no mercy, slamming his fists into every part of the man's body that he could see.
"St…stop," a quiet voice came from behind him. Batman's fury-filled eyes stared down at the pulp of human flesh that was Joker to make sure he was completely knocked out. Satisfied, he whipped out his Bat-cuffs and secured them around the villain's wrists. Standing up, he turned toward the chair and the young crime-fighter – hero, Batman suddenly decided – who was slumped in pain.
"Don't…kill," Robin whispered. There was a pleading quality in his tone and Batman was surprised. After everything that the villain had done, the boy was asking Batman to spare the man's life.
Striding to the boy's side and crouching down in front of him, the Caped Crusader began working on the knotted rope around the small chest.
"I don't kill," Batman declared softly as his fingers deftly untangled the knot. The rope was too tight for him to use his Bat-knife; the slice that would set the boy free would also cut him open. Robin was wheezing and Batman had to remind him to breathe – twice – before finally untying the knot and pulling the rope away.
There was a quiet sigh of relief as Batman pulled his Bat-knife out of his utility belt and made quick work of the duct tape around the boy's ankles. The Bat-knife returned to the belt and a Bat-pick was pulled out. The handcuffs were released in less than ten seconds and Robin's arms dropped limply to his sides.
"I need to know the extent of your injuries, kiddo. I need you to stay awake and tell me what hurts. Can you do that for me?"
"Ye…yeah, I think…so," came the whispered reply.
"Okay, start at the top of your body and work your way down. Don't move, just tell me where you're hurting and how bad it hurts. No, Robin, stay awake!" Batman suddenly demanded loudly when the boy's eyes fluttered and leaned toward closing.
"Sssssorry," he slurred. "Sssstart at top, got it. Uh, I think my head turned into a…a volcano. So much laaaaava. But how can I still talk? Thasssss weird."
"It's blood, Robin, not lava and it's all over your face. You also have some trickling over your left ear and there's a puddle on the floor behind you. I'm going to wrap your head with Bat-wrap."
Batman removed the Bat-wrap from another pocket in his utility belt and swathed the small head in the light-brown material. Then he took out a small Bat-towel and carefully began soaking up and wiping away the majority of the blood on the young face.
"Issss not a vol…cano?" Robin asked, confusion surrounding the words. "Whasss Bat-wrap? Isssssss like, um, Bat-ice?"
"It's definitely a head on your shoulders, not a volcano," the Caped Crusader assured the boy while stuffing the now-soaked-with-blood Bat-towel into his utility belt. He ignored the second and third questions in favor of continuing to evaluate the injuries.
"Keep going, kiddo," Batman stated but then thought of something. "Can you see me, Robin? How do I look?"
A quiet, youthful laugh tumbled out of Robin's mouth. "You look like a bat, sssssilly. Issssn that why your name isssss Batman?"
The older hero snatched his mini Bat-flashlight out of his utility belt and shined it in the younger hero's eyes. The pupils were dilated and the eyes were darting around, unable to focus on anything.
"Gonna be sssssss…" Robin mumbled right before throwing up. He had swiftly turned his head away from Batman, who was surprised that the boy was aware enough to even think about doing that.
"Okay, you definitely can't go to sleep on me. You have a severe concussion and I don't want you going into a coma. Stay awake, Robin!"
The last sentence was shouted when Robin's head lolled around his shoulders and his eyelashes traveled toward his cheeks.
"I'm gonna turn into a comma?" the boy asked, startled into awareness by the loud command. "I din't know that wasss psssssble. My ribsies hurts," he giggled then grimaced.
Batman gently probed the small torso and his grimace matched the one on the boy's face. Alfred was going to have a lot of fixing to do in that area.
"What else hurts, Robin?"
"Can I jussss say e…rything?"
"No," Batman declared firmly. But only because I need you to stay awake.
"That thing…by foot…you know…bendsssss…?"
"Your ankle?" Batman clarified and Robin nodded.
Looking down, the Caped Crusader immediately knew which ankle Robin was attempting to describe. The right one was purple and so swollen that the boy's tennis shoe was threatening to pop off. Batman knew the difference between a sprain and strain. This one was definitely a strain – he could feel the torn tendon even through the fabric of his glove.
"What else?!" Batman shouted. He hadn't been paying attention to Robin's face and the blue eyes had disappeared. They immediately reappeared at the loud noise.
"Did I ssssssay ribsiessss?"
"Yes, kiddo, and I understand why you're telling me again. Four are broken and three more are probably fractured. Your torso has taken quite the beating this week."
"My torso isssss a beet? I don' like beets. Gross."
"No," Batman sighed, "your torso is not a beet. The good news is that I can move you with only a six percent chance of killing you."
"I…but…kill?!" Robin gasped.
Batman opened his mouth, intending to reassure the boy that nobody was going to kill or be killed tonight. But Robin asked the next question before the Caped Crusader could get any words out.
"You hate me?"
The three words were whispered sadly and the eleven-year-old crime-fighter sounded completely defeated. A single, tiny drop of liquid slid out of the corner of his left eye and slowly made its way through the small, pink streaks of drying blood on the young face.
"What?!" the man exclaimed quietly, shocked at the question.
He wasn't quite sure why, but Batman suddenly wanted to wrap the boy in a giant hug and shield him from the world. Instead, he hesitantly lifted his right hand and caught the tear with his blue-gloved thumb. Gently, the hero wiped the drop away, leaving a faint trail of brown that resembled a dusty rainbow.
"No, Robin," Batman continued, "of course I don't hate you!"
The seemingly random inquiry puzzled the Caped Crusader. Why, out of all the words that were probably playing tag in his brain, would Robin choose those three to form a question?
"Din't return batty weapon thingy," Robin suddenly continued forlornly. "'Sssssat home. Old home. No, new old home. Old old home jusss 'boooooooooom'."
The young crime-fighter slowly drew out the last sound and spread his arms as wide as they could go. The explanation solved the puzzle in Batman's brain and he was impressed again. Robin was intelligent, brave, strong and honest. He was also stubborn and somewhat reckless but the Caped Crusader pushed that thought out of his mind for now.
"Let's go, Robin," Batman commanded as he stood up and helped the boy to his feet. "Do you think you can walk?"
"Course, ssssssilly. Gots two legs, right?"
Robin took a step with his right foot and almost crumpled to the ground. Batman had already wrapped his left arm across the boy's back and around the small chest so he was able to stop the collapse.
"You're walking, kiddo, because it will keep you awake. Don't put too much weight on your right ankle, that's why I'm supporting you on this side. Ready?"
"I wassss born ready, kiddo," Robin grinned as his head flopped forward. "Are you sure my head issssn volcano? Ssssso heavy and burning…"
Robin somehow kept up a steady stream of nonsensical chatter from the warehouse all the way to the Batmobile. Batman settled him in the passenger seat and walked around to the driver's side. Just as he opened the door, he heard a quiet 'click' and watched a small body begin stumbling toward the trees.
"Are you kidding me?!" the Caped Crusader grumbled, slightly annoyed. He had just rescued the boy and, instead of thanking him by returning to the Batcave, Robin was trying to escape again. The young hero was already at the tree line and Batman sprinted toward the forest.
"ROBIN!" he roared. The last time Richard Grayson had entered that particular group of trees, he had been left behind by the only family he had ever known. Batman wasn't going to allow the boy to get lost again.
So, the Caped Crusader was surprised when he entered the forest as the first light of the morning sun peeked over the eastern horizon. Robin's stomach was leaning against a very familiar tree – the one Bruce Wayne had apologized to over a year ago. He was staring pitifully up into the branches, nearly invisible tears weaving tiny tracks on his cheeks.
"What's going on, Robin?" Batman asked quietly, not at all certain that the boy was in his right mind.
"My…my stuff," Robin whimpered. "I can't…I can't get there. I need it. Please help me?" He sounded so much younger than his eleven years and Batman was reminded that, although strong and independent, Robin was first and foremost a still-grieving child.
"It's in the tree?" Batman asked, his tone outlined with skepticism.
"Y…yes. At the very tippy top, where nobody can find it," Robin replied with a soft touch of pride in his tone. "'Cept me," he amended.
"And you want me to climb up there and get it for you?" This question was outlined with disbelief. Robin wanted him, a well-built man, to climb to the top of a tree?
"Yes, please. Jusss…jusss don't open it. Please," Robin whispered sadly and that tone made Batman's decision for him.
"Okay, but you need to do something for me. I want you to sit here…" the Caped Crusader gently pushed Robin down "…until I come back. If something bad happens, yell at me. Don't try to fight any criminals right now, okay?"
Light-blue eyes widened and filled with fear. "Bad?!" Robin nearly screamed. "What could be worsers than watching them die?!"
Ignoring the question, and hoping that Robin wouldn't remember later that he had asked it, Batman began climbing the tree. There were several spots where he got stuck and had to tear off some small branches in order to move higher. The young hero had been telling the truth: it was at the tippy top, inside a sort-of nest that was just the right size for a ten- or eleven-year-old body.
So this is where you hid last year. You were right above me, them, the whole time. It's a smart place to hide but it was a stupid idea to stay hidden, kiddo.
Grabbing the tightly knotted bundle, Batman slowly made his way down the tree. It took him longer with the pack and he wondered how Robin had been able to get it up there in the first place.
Batman finally made it to the ground and internally growled at what he saw. Of course one of the small branches would land on Robin's head, as if enough hadn't happened to the boy this week. The younger hero was staring at his feet and gently swaying side to side, the large stick well-centered on the top of his head.
Soft sounds were floating in the air and the Caped Crusader realized that the boy was counting. The number one hundred was whispered triumphantly and Robin lifted his right hand. He carefully lifted the branch off his head and tossed it away before looking up.
"Thaaaaanks!" Robin's wide, blue eyes were shining with tears and the soft word was filled with such sincerity that Batman actually allowed a real smile to cross his entire face.
"You're welcome," the Caped Crusader replied quietly as he put the bundle down and crouched in front of Robin.
"How's your head, kiddo?"
"Um, the same, I guess?" Robin replied in confusion. "Unless it turned into a volcano, of course…"
"No," Batman quickly interrupted. "That branch hit you on the head, right? Does it hurt…"
This time it was Robin who interrupted. "No, it didn't fall on me!" he stated, sounding a bit petulant. "I was practicing so I can go on the tightrope! Was I really that bad?!"
Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time, Batman shook his head. First Robin had mentioned watching his parents fall and now he was talking about the tightrope. It was fortunate that nobody was around to hear this conversation.
"Are we going to your houssss?" the boy abruptly changed the subject, his voice nearly inaudible. "You don' have to… I'm feeling better…don't wasssse your time…fine on my own."
The words were flying out of Robin's mouth so quickly that he couldn't form a complete sentence but Batman got the gist of it.
"Remember when I told you that you're not a burden?" Batman said gently. "It's not a waste of our time to fix you up, Robin. And you don't have to be on your own anymore. Whenever you need or want something, you can find me. I'm always willing to combine forces with a fellow crime-fighter."
That remark received a small grin and Batman lifted the boy to his feet. Robin was facing the tree again so Batman carefully turned him around and picked up the boy's bundle.
"Immmmaaaa crime-fighter," Robin snickered as they slowly started walking toward the Batmobile.
"You said you're feeling better. Is that the truth or were you trying to convince both of us that you were okay?"
Robin dropped his head. "Was a lie," he admitted softly. "Not sup…supposed to lie. I'm sssssssorry!" he yelled and unexpectedly burst into tears.
"Hey, okay, no need to…it's okay."
Batman was thinking about panicking. He had no idea how to handle a crying child, especially when he didn't even know why the kid was crying in the first place.
"I'm a horrible persssssson," Robin wailed as they arrived at the Batmobile. "I'm not good at anything anymoooooore!"
"What?! No, Robin, that's not true. You took down Joker, remember? He's a big-time villain…"
"No, you took him down!" the boy sobbed. "I sat in a chair like a…like a baby! Leona was wrong, she was wrong! I'll never be as strong as daaaaaaaaddy!"
By this time Batman had helped Robin into the passenger seat and was buckling the safety Bat-belt. Quickly shutting the door, the Caped Crusader raced to his side, climbed in, gunned the engine to life and roared down the road. He needed Alfred. Alfred would know what to do.
A/N: While researching concussions, I discovered that there is a difference of opinion regarding whether or not the person should be allowed to go to sleep. For the purposes of this story, it's not okay to fall asleep. Thanks! :)