"...They're not really going to try and take us out, are they?" Flash inquired once the boys had had a minute to clear off. "I mean...I know it's exactly what you would do, and frankly I'm starting to regret telling Robin that, but...they wouldn't, right?"
There was a worried tone underlining the speedster's words that matched the vague uncertainty bubbling in Batman's stomach. "I...don't know," he admitted, staring at the patch of greenery his son had vanished into. He's not the sort to run and hide when there are foes loose for the taking, he mused. I may not have thought this through far enough...
You didn't, Bruce piped up. Didn't you hear him towards the end? He was using his clever voice.
I know, he replied, irritated. Don't point out things I already know. It's a waste of time.
Would you consider it a waste of time for me to remind you that we almost neverwin when he uses that voice?
...No. I would consider it a statement of fact. That was the problem; Dick truly did have an impressive record of success in moments when he was as confident as his departing attitude had implied he was. At the same time, though, he wasn't a half-bad actor, and might well have been putting on a show to make them think that he felt clever when he didn't. Dissimulation would be a smart tactic; if they proceeded with extra caution under the assumption that they were being targeted, it would give the boys a leg up on lasting until noon. Still, though... He paused, his mouth twisting into a frown, and decided that that felt like too great of a leap in reasoning for even an extremely intelligent child.
I don't know, Bruce said cautiously. If any ten-year-old is introspective enough to realize that he puts on a tell-tale air when he gets confident, it's kiddo.
I'm not arguing that. I'm not even arguing that he's bright enough to weaponize his emotions. My hesitation stems from the fact that most adultsnever figure out what you're suggesting. And considering the distinct lack of self-confidence he's evinced this weekend... A low hum passed through his pursed lips. I think it was a legitimate 'clever voice.'
So he's going to hunt us?
...Yes. Yes, I think they will. "...Flash."
"What's the plan?" came back immediately. "I assume that's what you were thinking about, at least."
"It was," he lied smoothly. It almost seemed wrong to tell the other man an untruth given all that they had shared over the last six-odd months, but he pushed the feeling down. Even if he dared to try and explain the conversation he'd just been having, the odds were high that it would only lead to confusion. "I think there's a good chance that the boys will attempt to come after us in the way that Robin suggested."
"Shhhhit. Don't get me wrong," Flash raised his hands as the cowl swiveled to face him, "it's a great training opportunity either way, but...I'm a little worried about what they're going to come up with."
Me, too, he kept to himself. "They have two paths to success now; we still have only one, and that is to find them and catch them. Obviously I would have a difficult time snaring Kid Flash without putting him at high risk of injury, which I would prefer not to do, so I think it's best if we stick to our own partners for this exercise."
"You take Robin, I'll take Kid."
"Correct."
"Are we splitting up for this?"
"Yes. They probably will, so our best chance of getting them both is to work separately."
"If I see Robin before I see Kid, do you want me to grab him?"
"...Yes," he answered after a moment's thought. "But try to do it without super speed, if you can. The chances of a real assailant in a situation like this one having that power is slim, and I think he'd protest."
"Not much super speed to be had in these woods anyway. I think the fastest I've been able to go with all of these trees has been, like, forty." Flash sighed. "Wide-open spaces, Batman. That's my request for our next camping trip. Some wide-open spaces."
"Mm." The suggestion meshed with what had already half-gelled in his mind for their next foray into the wild, so he said nothing more.
"...Hey, Batman?"
"Mm?"
"Is it bad that I'm not entirely sure we're going to win this?"
"...I think," he smirked, "the fact that you're worried when our opponents are ten and twelve years of age should just make us proud."
"Heh. Yeah...you have a point there. Alright, so were are you starting? I'll take the other end and work my way towards you."
"I'll head for the beaver pond. They've probably gone somewhere known in order to organize themselves, so you should check the field."
"And if they're not there, I'm stuck dodging branches," Flash sighed.
"...Change your radio to four. I doubt they'll scan for us."
"Right. Well...here goes nothing. Catch you on the flip side."
For all that he had complained of only being able to run at his version of a very slow jog, the other man was a blur as he left the clearing. Once he was alone, Batman turned in a slow circle, observing the surrounding trees and listening to the early-morning calls of the local animals. Would Robin have stayed close to camp, he mused, in order to get an easy drop on them? It wasn't outside the realm of possibility, but he dismissed it quickly. In a real ambush that was exactly what the people looking for them would expect, and his partner had been trained since birth to think of the element of surprise as a good thing. Besides, Kid Flash had looked uncertain when they'd left; if he needed to be convinced of their plan's potential for success, it would be best to move far away from the start point to talk. No, the children weren't nearby, he was certain.
That was no excuse to be incautious, however, so he took his time as he stepped through the same wall of brush that the boys had. There were no obvious signs of passage, but he walked straight forward for a short distance nevertheless. Sure enough, a freshly flipped piece of moss appeared, evidence, he deduced, of Kid Flash's nervous foot shuffling. So he didhave to convince him, he thought, growing more confident that his judgment about being hunted was correct. Interesting.
There was little question as to whether or not the younger child had been successful in swaying his friend, but Batman found himself once again wondering just how complex of a plan Robin had already formulated when they'd parted. This is the wrong side of camp for the beaver pond, he frowned. It may have been a purposeful deception, or a simple coincidence. It might also indicate that they hadn't gone in the direction of the small lake at all. ...Hmm...
Despite his luck in finding sign of KF's recent presence in this area, trying to track them through the forest didn't seem like the best way to start out. Turning on his heel, he strode back to camp and then on towards the creek. Staying to just inside the trees, where he felt less open to attack, he followed the course downstream. If need be he could go back and try to pick up evidence of their passage later, but for now he would stick to what he had told Flash he would do.
It was a peaceful walk, and if either of their proteges were hiding out nearby they missed their chance to get him – however they were planning to do that – as he passed. They hadn't had time yet to create any elaborate traps, but as the stream widened out Batman reminded himself that before long he would need to be on the lookout for tripwires and other basic triggering mechanisms. How many times had he told Robin that taking down your enemy from a distance was the safest method, after all? If he stuck to that, traps were sure to come into play.
The pond was quiet, its surface undisturbed. He didn't know what Kid Flash's opinion was of water, but if the boys had decided to hide he felt safe in assuming that Robin wouldn't be lingering in the depths with a breathing straw running from his mouth to fresh air. While his son could stand diving, he disliked having his face submerged even in just the tub, so it seemed unlikely that he would choose to wait out the morning with the remaining trout population.
He circled the body of water, scanning the edges for bootprints and other indications that the children had come this way. Passing the shelf where they had fished less than a day earlier – there were no gently swishing bodies gathered there yet, as the sun hadn't had time to warm the water – he caught himself on the edge of becoming sentimental. That's not what I'm here for, he growled reluctantly. Later, maybe.
A muddled half-print caught his attention on the opposite side of the pond. They hadn't ventured to this end of things yesterday, he recalled. His eyes narrowed as they traveled out into the water, searching. They hadn't ventured this far, and even if they had the mud certainly wouldn't still be settling...
The tracks had nearly vanished already, but enough divots remained in the wet lake floor for Batman to determine that he was looking at a clue rather than the aftermath of trout mating. They were here,but...why?
A robin passed almost under his nose just then, zipping above the water before coming to rest on a low tree branch. Its black top-feathers blended in with the trunk behind it, but its red breast stood out gloriously. If he had believed in such things, the man standing shin-deep in the water might have thought it was a sign. Being who he was, he chose to take only the obvious facts from the occurrence. Red would stand out in the shadowy forest, as would green and yellow. Both of his targets were wearing bright colors, and their time in the mud suddenly made perfect sense. Camouflage, he nodded. Well played, Robin.
He had just regained the shoreline when the edge of the sun rose above the treetops, and in the new light he could see that he had missed something during his initial survey of the forest's edge. A hand print? He frowned. That's sloppy. Verysloppy. Unless... Unless it was purposeful, he tried out. A false trail, maybe...
That's not Robin's hand, though, Bruce pitched in.
Batman started. ...What?
That's not his hand. It's too big.
...It's just extra splatter.
It's too big, I'm telling you. Just because younever hold his hand doesn't mean that I don't, and that's not his hand.
I just held his hand last night, while we were walking back from the clearing! Aggravated by his alter ego's meddling, he crossed his arms.
And it didn't feel as big as that print looks, now did it? Bruce cajoled right back.
He hesitated, remembering something. A few weeks back Robin, having come home from a long patrol in a state of utter exhaustion, had left his gloves on a bench in the changing area instead of putting them away. When Batman had come in behind him and found them, he had been struck by their size. Laid diagonally, the entire hand portion had almost fit inside his own palm. He had shuddered, he recalled now, to think that such delicate fingers performed the same sort of work as his much larger, rougher digits. ...No, he allowed after a moment. I guess it didn't. So Kid Flash, then.
That's my guess.
And if they split up... About-facing, he trekked back to the thick greenery near the signs he'd found in the mud. Ducking into the shadows, his eyes fell to the ground again. Kid Flash, indeed, he sighed a second later as he spied another skittish scuff mark in the soil. It was a good thing the older boy was fast, because sneaky he was not. They must have regrouped here, he amended his earlier belief that they had worked on the redhead's apprehensions closer to camp, and then gone for the mud. "...Flash," he muttered into his radio.
"Hey. Field's clear, and so's the surrounding forest. How's the pond?"
"Hot. Check the trees opposite the fishing grounds for a hand print. Your quarry has definitely been here and left a trail."
"How about yours?"
"...He can't have gotten far."
"Roger. I'm on my way. Thanks for the heads up."
"Out." As the conversation ended, Batman wished he had a more concrete idea as to where Robin had gone from here. You can't have gotten far, he repeated to himself as he began to move deeper into the woods. I willfind you, Robin. And when I do...well... A faint smile ghosted across his lips. You'll still have done a very good job.