During our last encounter with Batman, the Riddler had just announced that he had figured out Batman's secret identity. Is it true? Has he really? Will Batman be able to put things right if that is the case?
Stay tuned to find out!
On Wings of Steel
Chapter 11 – Batman's Lie
"You, my dear Batman," the Riddler drawled, seeming to relish every single word he was speaking, "are none other than Bruce Wayne – the millionaire philanthropist and guardian of the orphan, Dick Grayson."
The Riddler turned his gaze to Dick next, eyeing the boy like he might have been a piece of meat. He began to take a few steps towards Dick, but Batman wasn't having any of it.
"Stay away from him," Batman immediately snapped, stepping in between the two.
The Riddler grinned, baring all his teeth like he was getting ready to devour a delicious meal. "But you see," the Riddler mused, "there it is again. That very same crazed tone you used last night when you were demanding to know where the boy was. That was when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was on to something."
"Or it could just be common concern that I would show for any defenseless child kidnapped by a psychotic criminal," Batman replied, his voice teetering very precariously on the edge of anger.
"I considered that," the Riddler conceded. "I did. Hence my plan to prove it." He raised his hand in the air, then turned it palm up in the direction of the large iron stamping machine. "It didn't take you two very long in such a perilous situation before the truth spilled out."
Fixing his eyes intently on Dick, the Riddler asked, "What did you call him? Bruce, wasn't it? Talking about him being a father figure to you and what a wonderful relationship you two have based on trust." The Riddler began squealing on the last few words of his sentence, forming his hands into balls and then beginning to giggle. "It was just too perfect. And absolutely disgusting," he muttered, his voice turning back into a more serious tone.
The Riddler glared off across the room at the far wall, seemingly trying to process this concept that was so foreign to him. A moment later, he blinked his eyes and shook his head before setting his sights on Dick once more.
"He was right, you know," the Riddler told Dick. "You really do need to be more careful about what you call him when you two are out in public."
Since Batman wasn't doing anything to discredit the Riddler's conclusion, Dick felt like he needed to say something. Even though Batman had already warned him not to converse with the Riddler anymore, Dick couldn't quite help himself. "You must have misunderstood," Dick said, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible.
"I don't think so," the Riddler said, shaking his head. "I heard it as clear as day. Batman. Bruce. You used the two interchangeably. And as I said, there was only one millionaire in Gotham City who has taken a teenager into their care recently. The funny thing is, his name just also happens to be Bruce as well. That's either world's largest coincidence, or you are indeed Bruce Wayne," the Riddler said, turning his gaze back to Batman and giving him a questioning expression. "Do you wish to deny it, too, my unfair opponent?"
"No need," Batman said, as if the Riddler was so beneath him. "There's hardly any reason for me to defend myself against such ridiculous accusations. I've never met this boy in my life before now, although I would have been very fortunate if I had. You," he said to the Riddler, "are a sad, delusional little man."
The Riddler grinned again, laughing perhaps louder than he ever had. "If that's so," he said to Batman, "then show me. Prove me wrong. Remove your mask. Show me that you're really not Bruce Wayne under there, and then we can all go home. I will admit defeat, at least for now. In fact, it would absolutely shame me for having gotten the answer to the greatest and best riddle of my career wrong. I would retreat with my tail between my legs out of pure humiliation."
"First of all, like you would actually let us leave this place," Batman muttered. "Second of all, that would defeat the purpose of me wearing a mask at all, wouldn't it? I can't very well reveal my true identity to you. That would be foolish. Rest assured, however, that I am not Bruce Wayne."
"After you already said you wouldn't deny such foolish allegations," the Riddler said mockingly. "And yet, here you are."
Batman seemed to completely ignore the Riddler's comments. When Batman spoke again, it wasn't at all what Dick had been expecting him to say. "You know, Riddler," Batman said coolly, "since you are so keen on riddles, I have one for you. It seems to me that I don't give you nearly enough of them."
The Riddler frowned and he stared at Batman in a way that indicated that he seemed almost lost. He appeared to be so very perturbed that someone else dared to give him a riddle; that was his modus operandi, after all. Then, however, the Riddler smiled, but it seemed so very forced. It didn't reach all the way to his eyes, and he still seemed unsettled at his whole turn of events.
"You think I can't keep up with them?" the Riddler scoffed. "Fire away. I can out riddle you any day."
"Then riddle me this, Riddler," Batman said, sounding like he was savoring every single word that crossed his lips. "What would you call the pig that Noah ate for dinner?"
The Riddler considered this for a moment before he ran his tongue across his lips. It was almost like he had eaten something absolutely delicious and was savoring the flavor. It only took a second or two before he replied, "Child's play. Is that really the best you can come up with? The answer, my big black bat, is ark ham. Arkham. As in the asylum. Are you threatening me, Batman?"
"Oh no," Batman replied smoothly. "I'm merely making you a promise, Edward."
"Oh yes?" the Riddler asked, sounding genuinely curious. "There's only one little problem with your plan. You're going to have to catch me first."
Batman took a moment to glance around the room. "One to one. Those odds have never proven very good for you in the past, so I'd say you're vastly outnumbered."
"Ah," the Riddler exclaimed. He held up the index finger of his right hand, twitching it back and forth slowly. "Not so fast. You see, you didn't do so well the last time we met, did you? Did you really think I'd come without my minions?"
As if on cue, the Riddler's three sidekicks that Batman had met in the museum crammed into the narrow doorway, effectively blocking any escape for Batman and Dick. Batman had been hoping he could get Dick out of there – send him outside while he took on the Riddler – but that no longer looked like a viable option.
"Who are you calling minion, Riddler baby?" one of the cronies asked.
"Would you prefer subordinate?" the Riddler asked, quickly glancing back over his shoulder. "Crony? Accomplice? Cohort?!" the Riddler kept rattling of synonyms, his voice growing louder and louder with each one.
None of the trio of sidekicks replied to this, seeming to slink back a little bit from their place in the doorway.
"Riddle me this," the Riddler yelled, "my bumbling buffoons: What gets broken without ever being touched?"
The three men simply stood there, staring at the Riddler dumbfounded. It really wasn't very hard to see why these three resorted to following the Ridder around; they weren't very good at thinking for themselves. Dick, however, could see the answer right away. It was something he had a lot of experience with.
"A promise," Dick whispered, glancing at Batman out of the corner of his eye.
"Correct!" the Riddler exclaimed. He jumped up into the air and spun around, gently landing back on his feet to stare Dick down. "Oh, why didn't I meet you earlier?" he cried, his voice cracking as if he was in anguish. He put his hands on his head, tilting his head as he studied Dick. "Someone who can keep up with my mind. We could have done great things together."
Dick swallowed hard before he shouted, "My parents were killed by criminals. It would be a cold day in hell before I ever joined the likes of you."
Despite Dick's language, Batman tilted his head back and stared down proudly at his young ward. A very tiny smile curled itself around the corner of his lips.
"Oh, pity," the Riddler sighed overdramatically. He hung his head and shook it, gazing down at the floor in disappointment. "But no matter," he finally said, lifting his eyes to glare long and hard at Batman. "As your rather eager young ward has said, promises are so very easily broken. You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Batman. Don't you know that by now?"
Dick tried to swallow away the lump that had formed in his throat. He shifted back and forth on his feet, trying not to let on exactly how much the Riddler's words were affecting him.
"I try not to, Riddler," Batman said very slowly, carefully. "I mean every single one of the promises I make. Sometimes, however, life gets in the way and it cannot be helped. For those instances, I am truly sorry to whoever I've hurt. But in your case, Riddler…maybe it really is a threat, because I don't intend to let you get away. Not this time."
"And as I've said, Batman," the Riddler silkily, "you'll have to catch me first. Again, these odds didn't work too well for you the last time, so would you care to try it one more time?"
Everything seemed to happen all at once. The Riddler suddenly launched himself at Batman, throwing punches left and right. The Riddler's three cronies, meanwhile, stormed farther into the room and gathered around Batman. They all began pummeling Batman with their fists. Batman alternated between ducking some of their punches and hitting back, falling seamlessly into a pattern that Dick knew he had used countless times before. Batman moved so fluently and easily, it was almost like watching some sort of carefully choreographed dance.
But Dick knew he couldn't keep this up forever. Four against one were really not good odds, even against someone as practiced and polished as Batman. The Riddler and his henchmen kept trying to grab Batman from different angles. So far, Batman had been able to throw them off, but sooner or later, he was going to start showing the signs of fatigue.
Dick had slinked away until his lower back came into contact with the metal press he had been lying on earlier. He had never been in an actual fight before in his life and he wasn't sure what to do at first. He was frozen with fear and he almost had to remind himself that he had had martial arts training.
His training had been pretty extensive and he was out of practice, but he thought he might be able to be of some assistance to Batman. Hopefully, it would help to balance the odds out a little bit, even if he was much smaller than the others.
He could do this. He had to. Dick certainly wasn't going to stand there and watch while they throttled Batman at any rate. Who knew what would happen to the two of them if it came to that. Judging from the Riddler's words, Batman had already been through the wringer himself, and Dick had absolutely no desire to repeat what he had just gone through. Being trapped in a virtual death machine once was plenty enough for him.
Gathering all of his courage, Dick launched himself forward before he could come to his senses. He threw himself forward onto the back of one of the Riddler's cronies. Dick immediately wrapped his arm around the man's neck, effectively pulling him away from Batman in the process. He henchman faltered in his punches, limping backwards with the weight of a teenage boy hanging onto his back. Dick used his free hand to begin punching at the man's face. The henchman first tried to pry Dick's arm away from his throat, but the harder he pulled, the more tightly Dick held on.
Batman used this opportunity to slip out of the way of the rest of his assailants. This was when Batman spotted a large piece of sheeting metal in the far corner of the room. He dove for it while the two free henchmen flew after him.
The Riddler, however, broke away from them once he noticed that Dick was involved in his own scuffle with the remaining goon. The Riddler ran across the room towards them.
The sidekick had pushed Dick up against the wall in an attempt to try and get away. Dick was pressed into the hard concrete wall, his back screaming out in pain. Rather than loosen his grip, Dick wrapped his other arm around the man's neck. Dick bent his knees and planted the heels of his shoes on the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing off against the wall with his feet as firmly as he could.
This caused the man to stumble forward and it was at this exact moment that the Riddler came running towards them. The Riddler reached out to begin prying Dick's arms from around the henchman's neck, but he was thrashing around too much for this to be of any help. The man's head ended up colliding with the Riddler's in a sickening clunk. Dick flinched at the sound, finally letting go of man and allowing him and the Riddler to stumble across the floor. Dick ducked and whirled away from them.
Meanwhile, Batman had picked up the large piece of sheeting metal from the corner just as the two remaining henchmen ran towards him. Batman swung the metal up into the air and brought it down just as the men reached him. It connected with their heads, making a loud crashing sound.
But the Riddler wasn't to be stopped this easily. He had recovered from his lost footing and blow to his head, running towards Dick again. Dick managed to land a few punches in the Riddler's face and it was almost exhilarating to Dick; it felt good to be able to pay back the man who had left him for dead not so very long ago. A moment later, however, the goon that Dick had previously been tangling with recovered as well. He came up behind Dick to repay the favor. He wrapped his own arm around Dick's neck and pulled him backwards. This left Dick swinging fruitlessly in the Riddler's direction.
This gave the Riddler the chance to reach out and grab ahold of Dick's wrists, stilling the boy's hands in midair. The Riddler took a few steps towards him and closed the distance until his face was only a few inches from Dick's.
"You fight quite well for a mere boy," the Riddler said mockingly. "Are you going to tell me again that you've never met Batman a day before in your life?"
This caused Dick to smile. It filled him with excitement to think that his fighting style was being compared to the great Batman. He would have been proud and thrilled to say that he had been trained by Batman, but that sadly, couldn't be further from the truth.
"I haven't," Dick gasped out instead, safe in knowing that he wasn't lying. Not really. Even though this was just the Riddler he was talking to, he didn't like to lie; Bruce as well as Dick's own parents had frowned upon lying. Where criminals like the Riddler were concerned, Dick knew that there were exceptions to that rule, but it still made him feel bad for some odd reason.
"I was in the circus, Edward," Dick explained further, having picked up on the green-clad villain's real name from Batman earlier. "It was part of my trapeze training, because it helps with balance and coordination."
The Riddler glared at him through the holes in his mask. "Shut this boy up while you're at it, would you?" he asked the henchman over Dick's head.
The goon tightened his grip around Dick's neck, pressing his arm against Dick's windpipe. This caused Dick to gag, opening his mouth in a silence scream.
"Riddle me this, boy blunder," the Riddler said, but then he stopped to cackle. "Do you like that? I made it up myself. It sort of fits you, I think."
Dick tried his best to reply, but it was no use with the henchman's arm still wrapped too tightly around his neck.
"No matter," the Riddler said, shaking his head. "As I was saying: I am as light as a feather, but even the world's strongest man couldn't hold me for more than a few minutes. What am I?"
Dick tried his best to reply, his mouth opening and closing frantically, but no sound came out. He was aware that he probably looked akin to a fish on dry land, but the urge to answer was almost overwhelming, so he kept trying fruitlessly.
"If you're going to riddle the boy," Batman said, joining Dick's scuffle, "at least give him the opportunity to answer. But since he is currently incapacitated, allow me. The answer is breath."
Batman swung his fist in a large sweeping arc, quickly and finally taking out the henchman that had his arm around Dick's throat. This blow was enough for Dick to slip out of the man's grip, but the Riddler was still holding firmly onto Dick's wrists. Dick tried his best to pull away from him, but it was no use.
"Not so fast," the Riddler said. He pulled on Dick's arms and turned, swinging him around the room almost like they were involved in a dance.
The small of Dick's back once again slammed into the low table he had been lying on before, causing his mouth to open in a silent shout of pain. However, his throat still felt a bit raw for any sound to actually come out.
"I brought you here, planning on making a piece of sheet metal out of you," the Riddler said, "and unlike some people, I fully intend on keeping the promise."
The Riddler released Dick's wrists, but Dick was pressed up against the large metal table too tightly to be able to move. The Riddler pushed his hands against Dick's chest, forcing the boy to bend over backwards. A moment later, his head connected with the hard concrete of the stamping table. Dick glanced up above him and found himself staring at the large and flat stamping surface above him. He had already spent so much time staring up at that and he had hoped to never see it again once Batman had freed him from trap. The sight terrified him, causing his heart to begin pounding in his chest.
"Batman," Dick gasped out.
Batman, however, was still involved in a fight with same henchman, and Dick wasn't sure if Batman could, in any actuality, even get to him in time. Batman was a brilliant superhero, yes, but there were things that even he couldn't do. The Riddler was reaching for a large switch on the side of the table upon which Dick was lying. Dick knew that as soon as the villain hit that, he would be as good as dead. Even Batman wouldn't be able to reach him before he was stamped flat. He knew it.
Dick simply closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. He waited for some kind of mechanical sound signaling the start of the machine followed by some sort of crushing weight falling upon him, but nothing came.
When Dick dared to open his eyes again, it was to see that Batman had made quick work of the henchman he had been fighting. Batman was already there for him, grabbing at the Riddler's shoulders and pulling him away from Dick. Batman whirled the Riddler around, landing several more punches in the Riddler's face before the villain could recover.
Dick, meanwhile, was able to push himself into a standing position, still gasping for air from his recent loss of breath. He watched Batman, almost in awe, to see him punching the Riddler over and over again like some kind of unstoppable machine. The Riddler flew back into the wall, his head connecting with the hard concrete. Batman used this to his advantage, pummeling his fists even harder into the Riddler's face. The villain's head seemingly bounced back and forth between Batman's fists and the wall, each with a slightly more disgusting thump than the last.
Finally, the Riddler's eyes rolled back in his head behind the mask and he slumped to the floor. Batman took this chance to glance around the room, checking to make sure that the rest of the henchmen were all safely subdued. They were. While not unconscious like their ringleader, they were all in lumps on the floor, rubbing at their obviously painful headaches.
Batman reached out a hand for Dick, which Dick gladly accepted, allowing Batman to pull him up to stand even straighter.
"Nice work, chum," Batman said, sounding quite surprised. He kept looking around the room at the fallen villains, seemingly unconvinced that Dick had helped him do this.
"It was nothing," Dick gasped out proudly. "I learned it in the circus," he added, thinking it wouldn't hurt to continue to continue to carry on their charade. "And I wasn't nearly as caught off guard this time."
Batman's expression, however, turned concerned at the sound of Dick's grating voice. Placing his hands on his young ward's shoulders, Batman asked, "Are you okay?"
Dick nodded, swallowing audibly. It was his turn to glance around at the pile of fallen men littering the floor.
"I'm okay," Dick said reassuringly. "Just a bit of sore throat, that's all. Nothing that some of my Aunt Harriett's chicken soup won't fix."
Batman gave him a proud smile, but given that they were in the presence of the Riddler and his thugs, he didn't wish to dwell on anything that could give away anything further about themselves. "Good. Can you do me a favor?"
A sudden smile lit up Dick's features. "Yeah," he said in excitement. It had never occurred to him that he would be asked to do anything at all for Batman of all people. It was a little bit beyond his realm to grasp.
"Go outside to the Batmobile," Batman whispered. "It's parked near the street on this side of the building," he said, pointing his left index finger out to the side. "The Batphone has a direct line to my home. Use it to call my butler, Alfred. Tell him what's happened, then have him call Commissioner Gordon and have him send reinforcements."
Dick nodded slowly at each of Batman's point, making a mental list of everything he had to do.
"Also," Batman continued, but then he broke off. He glanced around at the Riddler and his henchmen once more before gently leading Dick farther away from them and closer to the door. When Batman spoke again, his voice was even quieter. "Tell Alfred to come down here and bring a spare Batsuit with him as well as a change of clothes for me. Tell him where the Batmobile is parked and have him wait there for further instructions. Can you do that?"
Dick nodded eagerly, the very thought of doing anything at all like this for Batman positively thrilling him. "But Batman…" Dick broke off, his eyes going to the unmoving pile of criminals lying on the floor. "About the-"
"Shh," Batman immediately hushed him. "Don't worry about it," he said around a smile, seeming to understand exactly what it was that Dick was concerned about. "I have a plan. Just tell Alfred exactly what I've told you, and we'll get this all sorted out. Okay?"
Dick nodded again, but this time he didn't seem so convinced. How on earth could Batman possibly have a plan to counteract everything that had happened here today? To convince the Riddler that he hadn't ultimately figured out the true identity of Batman? But then again, Dick reminded himself that this was Bruce. His Bruce. The person that he trusted the most in the world. Dick knew that if Bruce was telling him not to concern himself with something, then he had absolutely no reason to worry. Bruce had broken promises to him over the years, true, but never when it truly mattered. Dick also knew that Bruce wouldn't lie to him when the circumstances were seemingly so dire.
"Okay," Dick whispered back. He took a deep breath before he pulled gently out from Batman's grasp and headed for the door.
An hour later, the police had arrived. They had wrapped Dick up in a blanket and had taken him into the next room. They asked him tireless questions about what had happened and Dick was getting fed up with them. He knew that they were just doing their jobs, but Dick had been awake for well over twenty-four hours. He had been through more than enough, and he just wanted to go home, back to Wayne Manor, and curl up in his bed for the rest of the day where he knew he was safe.
Worst of all, in the ensuing chaos of the police arriving, Batman had disappeared. Dick was sure Batman was simply working out what to do about his current predicament of the Riddler having figured out his secret identity. Batman had already told him that he had a plan, but Dick still wasn't so sure. He couldn't possibly see how Batman could put this horrible turn of events right.
Dick wished harder and harder that this entire ordeal could be over with and that Bruce would just take him home. It had never quite occurred to Dick exactly how much he thought of Wayne Manor as his home, but that was all that kept running through his head at the moment. He'd never wanted something so badly as he wanted Wayne Manor right then. Except maybe for his parents to still be alive. But since that was impossible, Wayne Manor seemed like the next best thing.
The police still had the Riddler in the stamping room and Dick could still him shouting and cackling like a crazy person. He kept yelling about how Batman was really Bruce Wayne, and with each word from the Riddler's mouth, the more worried Dick became. How on earth was Bruce ever going to be able to fix this? How could he prevent this from getting out? How could he stop the entire world from finding out his secret?
The answer ended up walking through the door moments later and once Dick realized what Bruce intended to do, he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself. The answer was so easy, so simple. Having been in on a part of the plan himself, Dick was surprised it hadn't occurred to him sooner. Now Dick knew why the spare Batsuit and a change of clothes for Bruce had been required.
The first thing Dick really noticed was Bruce. Not Batman, but Bruce. His Bruce. Yes, they were one and the same, but sometimes, Dick still felt a distinct difference between the two. Batman was nothing like the Bruce that Dick had come to know. Bruce was always so gentle, so soft spoken, and that felt nothing like Batman.
Dick supposed that Bruce did it on purpose. Of course Bruce had to make Batman seem more intimidating. Not to mention, Bruce had to make Batman seem much more different than he really was, or it would be much too easy for people to figure out his secret. In a way, Batman seemed more and more like a persona that Bruce had created and Dick was coming to learn that that was exactly what it was. A persona. A character. A creation.
Dick had only known Bruce's secret for less than two days – had it really only been that long? – but Batman still managed to make him feel slightly intimidated in some days. Dick was sure that that would begin to fade once he became more accustomed to the idea, but in other ways, Dick thought that he would always be much more comfortable with just Bruce.
And there he was.
"Bruce," Dick said, blinking up at his guardian while relief flooded his voice.
Bruce had only been out of his sight for a little while, but Dick already missed him like crazy. Dick assumed that it was the ordeal that he had just been through that was making him so clingy and homesick, but he didn't think he had ever been so glad to see Bruce in his life. Not Batman. Bruce. Bruce in his grey slacks and soft white sweater that Dick longed to bury his face in. Not the polyester of the Batsuit.
Dick was on his feet in a matter of seconds, throwing himself into Bruce's arms so forcefully that Bruce took a few steps backwards. Then, Bruce's safe and strong arms were around him, hugging him tightly. Dick simply closed his eyes and hid his face in the welcome fabric of Bruce's sweater. Dick was very aware of the fact that he looked and sounded very much like a little child just then, but he didn't care.
"Mr. Wayne," came Commissioner Gordon's surprised voice a moment later from somewhere behind Dick. "I wasn't aware that anyone had called you. My men tried your home a little while ago, but there was no answer. We assumed you were still asleep, so I was going to send a patrolman over shortly."
"I took the liberties, sir. I have my ways."
Dick wasn't even really sure what was happening at first. That had sounded like Alfred's voice, but Alfred hadn't been there, had he? Then again, Dick had been so focused on the fact that Bruce had walked in, he hadn't quite been very aware of anything else. The president of the United States himself could have walked into the room, and Dick probably wouldn't have noticed. All that mattered to him in that moment – his entire world – was Bruce.
When Dick finally glanced up from Bruce's sweater, it took him a moment to work out what was going on, but then it all suddenly made sense to him.
Batman was standing just a few feet behind Bruce. At first, this didn't faze Dick. It took a moment to sink in that this was utterly impossible. How could both Bruce and Batman be standing in the same room? But then Dick realized that Batman didn't look quite right. He was a little taller than Bruce and a little less physically toned. And then most telling of all was the grey moustache peeking out from underneath that Batman mask.
It all hit Dick in an instant – Alfred was wearing the Batsuit! This was how Bruce intended to convince the Riddler that he wasn't really Batman – by having someone else impersonate Batman. The answer now seemed so very obvious. This was what Bruce had intended all along when he'd wanted Alfred to bring a spare Batsuit with him. Why on earth hadn't Dick thought of it himself?
In the end, Dick supposed that that was why Batman was so invaluable to begin with – he thought of things that no one else did.
"If you have nothing else for him," Bruce said, "I'd very much like to get Dick home. I daresay he's been through enough for one day."
"Of course," Commissioner Gordon said.
Just then, however, came another shriek from the Riddler. Everyone turned towards the source of the sound to see the green-clad villain being carted away by two of Chief O'Hara's men. The Riddler, however, didn't seem quite keen on leaving at the moment.
"It's impossible!" the Riddler cried, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head at the sight of Batman and Bruce in the same room. "I figured it out! I did!" he shouted, using his right thumb to jab towards his chest. "It is physically impossible for both Batman and Bruce Wayne to be in the same room, because they're the same person! This doesn't make any logical sense! What kind of sorcery is this?"
"As I've already told you," Alfred said from underneath the Batsuit, "you were sorely mistaken when you accused me of being Bruce Wayne. As you can see-" he said, gesturing towards Bruce, "-we are hardly the same person."
"Madness!" the Riddler shrieked at the top of his lungs. "I didn't get the greatest riddle of my career wrong! It's…it's some kind of trick!"
"I assure you," Bruce said, "it's not a trick. You were simply wrong."
The Riddler began to laugh, a loud cackling sound that seemed a little bit unhinged. Well, Dick had already known that the Riddler was crazy, but even this sounded a bit beyond what Dick had come to know in the last day or so.
"I. WASN'T. WRONG!" the Riddler roared, clearly punctuating each word. "The Riddler does not make mistakes. This is some kind of illusion. We're all being manipulated in some way! Batman's given us some sort of serum to confuse us. Haven't you?" he demanded, glaring in Alfred's direction. "Haven't you?!"
Bruce cleared his throat. "Perhaps a spell in Arkham would help this man. He seems to be suffering from some kind of breakdown."
Dick could feel his lips curling up into a smile. He had to hide his face in Bruce's sweater again to help hold a snort in, lest he give the entire ruse away. Bruce's tone was so very condescending, Dick couldn't quite help it. Bruce's hand gripped Dick's shoulder tightly, as if warning him to keep it together. Still, Dick struggled not to burst out in hysterical laughter. Dick suddenly couldn't wait to get outside to the Batmobile so that he could let his giggles escape in peace.
"He knows!" the Riddler screamed, aiming his index finger in Bruce's direction. "He threatened me with Arkham before you all showed up! He was planning on doing this!"
"I wasn't even here until a few short moments again," Bruce said quietly and calmly, "and I assure you, we have never exchanged words before now. I surely never had an opportunity to threaten you with anything."
"LIES!" the Riddler yelled, still waving a finger in the direction of both Batman and Bruce. Then he focused his eyes on Dick and asked, "Riddle me this, my dear boy: If you have me, you don't share me. If you share me, you don't have me. What am I?"
Dick lifted his head from Bruce's sweater to stare defiantly back at the Riddler. He refused to show any fear at all to this man. Dick really didn't want to continue to play along with the Riddler's silly games, especially now, but he felt almost compelled to. If the Riddler thought he was so very smart and intellectual, then Dick wanted him to know that he wasn't very far behind and could match wits with him any day.
"A secret," Dick replied without missing a beat.
"Correct!" the Riddler yelled around a cackle. "A secret! And I figured his out," he said, jabbing a finger in Batman's direction once more. "I did! And I'll tell anyone who will listen until my dying day!"
"That's enough," Chief O'Hara said, finally joining them in the room. "Get this riffraff out of here. Poor Dick has been threatened by him enough today."
Dick wanted to say that he wasn't feeling threatened any longer. Bruce was there; he always felt safer with Bruce. Not to mention, the Riddler was currently reduced to insane ramblings. Well, his claims weren't really insane, but no one would believe him now. As far as anyone was concerned, the Riddler had finally become completely unhinged and the proof of that was standing right before them.
Bruce's secret was safe, just as he had promised it would be.
And all is well.
Or is it, Batfans?!
What else could possibly be in store for our Dynamic Duo?
For the answer,
Tune in next time,
Same fan site…
Same fan channel.
And until then, don't count your chickens before they hatch!
Author's note: To clear up the confusion and answer some questions I've gotten, this story isn't quite over yet! I still have a few more chapters coming (I believe there will be fourteen chapters in total) to tie up some loose ends and to set up the sequel, so keep an eye out for them :)