A/N: Tim's love life hits a snag when he has to attend the cotillion, the dance where society's teens are now eligible to date. Not only that, when he is sent to Europe to meet with Wayne Enterprise business partners to gain support for his Wayne Foundation Neon Knights Project, Tim is presumed dead when the plane he was on suddenly explodes and nose dives into the Atlantic Ocean.

Red Robin Rising

by

AJ

Part 21: Climbing the Walls of Hell's Womb

Tim waited with anticipation. He could barely get the meager meal of stale bread and water down and keep it there, his stomach tied in knots. He waited the first hour. That hour passed and turned into three. Then six hours passed and still Ra's did not come. Another meal arrived and still Ra's did not show. Were they actually going to get away with this?

Then Tim heard the arrival of a truck somewhere above as the hours grew toward night. There were voices coming from above as well, then silence. He watched as several prisoners moved toward one end of the prison and looked up. A deep silence ensued. It was so deep that if a stone were to be dropped, it would sound like a thunderclap. Tim surmised that something was being lowered into the prison, or was that someone. He could act now and rush the crowd, grab the rope, and pull himself up and out of the prison when he suddenly heard gunfire. Others must have tried the same thing and failed. Others must have tried the same thing and died.

Earlier, Tim had searched the perimeter of the prison and found an old entrance long forgotten. Tim tried that entrance. It led into a corridor that must have led to a building far from the prison. The entrance, however, had proven to be fruitless. A cave-in from an earthquake or some other disaster had caused the tunnel to collapse. There had to be tons or rock and rubble in that tunnel and no one had even considered clearing it out. Someone had decided years ago that it was better to keep that underground tunnel buried. Less chance of prisoners escaping that way. In fact, no prisoners could escape, except for two. And Tim, hopefully, was going to make it three.

When Tim thought about that, his eyes carefully studied the walls of the prison. They weren't smooth. It was pitted and rough. The brick, stone, and mortar that made up the well-like walls actually created a pattern. Tim could clearly see how a person could climb out except for the gap between two of the wide stone shelves near the top. They were set about three-quarters of the way up. What puzzled Tim more was why there was a rope connected to a crossbar? Was that to break ones fall if the prisoner was to attempt to scale the wall?

The thought of using the rope at all caused Tim to think of the alternative. If a person used the rope, if they missed catching onto the shelf on the other side, there was a distinct possibility that the rope wouldn't even catch the person falling, and they would still fall to their death. And if the rope were to catch them, the rope might jerk in such a way as to cause serious injury. It might even cause a person's back to sever, and either way that person could die.

Tim sat there calculating the odds on what could happen. He must have ran the scenarios over and over in his mind, and came up with the same conclusion. Either way he sliced it, the odds were the same, if he chose to use the rope or not. He would either make it or he would not. He also weighed the options of staying in the prison and living the rest of his life down here, waiting for Ra's to remember he even existed, or take the risk and leave the prison, and return home.

His family didn't even know he was alive. With the plane crashing Ra's had planned every move to ensure that his family would believe that he had died. Tim, though, had not died on that plane. He was alive, and the only decision at this point was to stick to his original plan. He had to escape and make his way home or die trying. He really had nothing to lose. If he died, that would be it. His family just would not have a body to bury, or they might. Ra's might return his body, but he couldn't count on that. If he succeeded and lived, he would be half way home. All that would be left would be the journey, and he knew what that was going to take because he had done it before. He knew what was at stake. He just needed to prepare himself to make the biggest leap of his life.

Tim decided to wait another day to see if Ra's would come, but he didn't. What was Ra's game? Was the villain trying to psych him out? The Demon's Head was not above playing games.

"The Demon Head will not come," the Doctor stated. "He would send for you."

"What do you mean?"

"The Demon Head will not come down into the prison. If he wishes to see you, guards will come. They will lower a rope so you can climb out. The guards stand by to shoot anyone who tries to climb out who haven't been summoned."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Tim questioned.

"It was necessary to have you believe so you would go with me."

"Tell me the truth, Doctor. You mean he doesn't know I'm here?"

"He knows, but the Demon Head's memories can be faulty."

"You mean he'll forget."

"Yes, but that is not always so," the Doctor explained. "We must be prepared to move quickly."

"How long is Ra's . . . I mean the Demon Head going to let me sit here, if he even remembers I'm here."

"As long as it takes," the Doctor answered.

"Well, I can't just sit here," Tim argued. "I'm not going to do what he wants."

"If you want to escape then you must make the climb."

"You mean I really have to climb up to the top."

"It is the only way out. You must rise to be reborn in the world."

"Be reborn?" Tim questioned, confused. "I don't understand."

"The prison has another name," the Doctor explained.

"What name is that?"

"Hell's womb."

Tim's eyes narrowed. He could well believe it. The men were fed, clothed, and sheltered, but life down here was still harsh. You existed. You did not live. "I'll make the climb."

"Tomorrow will be a good day," the Doctor stated. "The guards will come tonight to bring food and whatever is needed for the week."

"But that truck . . . "

"Delivering a new prisoner."

"What about you?"

"Do not worry about me boy,' the Doctor stated. "My life began the moment I entered the prison. It does every time."

"You can't stay here," Tim argued. "The Demon Head will kill you."

"I am a doctor. I cannot abandon these people."

"Maybe you don't have to." Tim looked up toward the prison's rim. They had to lower the supplies. They just couldn't throw the stuff down to the people. The only reason these people had not escaped was because the guards pointed guns on them, threatening them with death. It would be no different than shooting fish in a barrel. There would be wholesale slaughter.

"If there is a rope to lower supplies, that same rope can be used to raise a man up."

"That particular rope is always removed. You need to rest to make the climb tomorrow." The doctor handed Tim another chunk of stale bread. "Eat. It will give you strength."

Tim took the bread and began to eat. A plan was forming in his mind, a plan in which he and the Doctor could escape. It would be a week anyway until the supply truck returned, unless they added another prisoner to this place. As night settled in and candle light flared to life, Tim's thoughts turned toward his brother and also to Bruce and he wondered what they could be thinking. He also thought about Samantha. This was probably killing her. He fell asleep with those thoughts in his mind and he vowed to return to them.

Continues with Part 22: Cravings and Confrontation