Robin walked aimlessly down the long dark halls. There was a strange empty felling in the pit of his stomach. He walked until he reached a room with a big fireplace and a lounge chair.
He sat in the overly cushioned chair. His green eyes slowly moved upward to the big gleaming portrait above the fireplace. His parents smiled tautly back at him. They seemed to shine.
'How could they have hade such a perfect life?' He began to wonder 'What if they hadn't died? What would have become of him? Would he have been as happy as them?'
He closed his eyes, but dint fall asleep. Slowly he lifted himself of the chair and just as slowly he shuffled over to the grand clock in the corner. He felt like it was 8 years ago, when he was just a 10 years old, in this very spot, felling the very same way, about to do the very same thing. He pulled down the pengalin and a door in back of the clock slide open. He stepped inside and the box slide downward. When the doors slide open a familiar, yet completely different sight came into view. The Batcave.