"Flash," Bruce rumbled, low, into the secure line in the cave. He hadn't bothered to change into costume – he would go out later, at least for a while, just not yet – but that was no reason to call out of character.
"Uh…hey. Why do I get the feeling you aren't just calling to wish me a merry Christmas?"
Because you're not an idiot, he didn't answer. "Have you given permission for Kid Flash to share his identity with Robin?"
"Oh. Yeah, I did. He hasn't yet, though. Something about not wanting Robin to feel guilty about not being able to return the favor."
"Is that Batman?" an eager tone asked in the background. "Could you ask about Rob? Is he okay?"
"I'll ask. Hurry up, would you? How can we be back in time for Santa to come if you don't get ready?"
"…Really, Uncle Barry? Santa?" Bruce could practically hear the boy rolling his eyes. "I'm eleven, not five."
"Okay, okay, cut me a break, huh? I'm trying, here. Just get ready." He turned back to the phone. "Why do you ask? And how's Robin?"
"I'm just verifying information. And he's fine."
"Oh. Good. We still on for next weekend? With the boys?"
"For now, I see no reason to cancel it."
"Great," the other man sounded relieved. "Kid's been driving me up the wall asking about it." He paused. "I tried what you said. It, uh…it does help a little." Another break. "Thank you," the words came, laden with honest appreciation.
"…Yeah." He was about to disconnect, having heard what he needed to, when the speedster added something quickly.
"Hey, Batman?"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas."
Alone in the cave, his lips caught somewhere between a sneer and a smile. "…Same to you."
Leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, Dick's request was all he could think about. Every time he thought he had a good reason for replying with a no, he remembered the way he and Flash had found their boys two nights before, curled up like a couple of puppies and just as whiny when you tried to separate them. "Damn it," he whispered to the empty cave. Well, what did you expect? he chastised himself. You didn't want him spending all of his free time with a turkey when he had issues making friends at school – issues that were not his fault – so you introduced him to another JLA protégé. Did you really think they wouldn't want to know each other's real names and spend time together out of costume if they hit it off? What were you planning on doing if they got along, telling them to pretend like the civilian world didn't exist?
Still, though…it was bad enough that several adults already knew who they were. That had come about purely as a matter of circumstance and necessity, not because he had wanted to share the information with anyone. Batman was a loner by nature, and would have been perfectly happy if no one but Alfred and Leslie knew the various names he went by. But Dick's not me, he reminded. He was miserable those last couple of weeks before he met Kid Flash. Hell, he kidnapped a turkey and almost got himself killed because the bird was his only friend besides Alfred and I. He needs companionship with someone at his own level, in and out of costume. What it comes down to, he supposed, is whether or not I trust Kid Flash with this secret.
"'He was right there, the whole time,'" he muttered, recalling what his son had said a short while ago. And hadn't he himself ruminated on the fact that the young speedster was already proving to be a loyal comrade? The fact that Bruce trusted Barry almost as much as he did Clark – not quite entirely, but more so than he did anyone who wasn't in his house at the moment – probably should have counted for something, too, he pondered, but it didn't. I have to trust Kid Flash for who he is, not for who's training him. These are our lives in question, he thought sternly. …But then, he's already saved them. Flash and I were helpless, Robin was hurt…there was no one else to get us out of there. Robin's role in the rescue was huge – Kid Flash likely never would have found us had he been alone from the start – but those last few minutes were almost entirely him. I just wish I knew if he would have done the same thing had his uncle not been chained up beside me…
He was getting frustrated, torn between the desire to further his son's happiness and the fear that doing so might endanger him physically. Finally capitulating to the fact that he was just staring off into space, he stood and began to change, needing some sort of physical distraction to clear his head. I'll make it a quick night, he swore, not having forgotten that he'd promised to stay with Dick and wanting to make sure he was back upstairs before he woke again. Just a short circuit of the docks and warehouses, and maybe a partial sweep of downtown. That's all.
"Master Wayne?"
"…Yes, Alfred?"
"I have a message from the young master. He wanted to bring it down to you personally, but I insisted he remain in bed."
"He's awake already?" he asked, heart sinking. So much for keeping my promise. I do this to him a lot, don't I? I have got to work harder on that… "Did you tell him I was going out?"
The butler looked at him steadily. "It wasn't necessarily for me to do so, Master Wayne. He seemed a little confused when he first noticed your absence, but as soon as he asked the hour he surmised that you were preparing for a patrol. He requested that I tell you good luck, and expressed a rather ardent desire that you use extra caution this evening."
"…He didn't seem upset, did he? That I wasn't there?"
"I wouldn't say upset, sir. A bit sad, perhaps, but I believe he understands that while he can be safely left in my hands, or in those of several others whom you trust, the city can only be properly tended to by one particular figure. He knows he isn't your only obligation; he accepts that. It may pain him a little, but he bears up under it admirably." He waited a moment. "He went back to sleep after relaying his message for you."
"Will you stay with him until I get back?" Bruce requested, feeling guilty but anxious to check up on Gotham. He'd missed last night's patrol, stuck at Mount Justice dealing with the aftermath of Sawyer's serum, and he wasn't going to want to leave the boy tomorrow. There was no telling how well he'd manage the day and the reminders it was sure to bring of years past, and nothing short of a global crisis would keep the billionaire from being home in case he was needed.
"Naturally. I only left him to pass along his words."
Somewhat contented by that, Bruce dropped the cowl over his face. "Thanks, Alfred."
The Englishman nodded. "Master Batman," he addressed as the other man strode to the car.
It was a slow night, a little fresh snow giving the city an uncharacteristically clean look. As he'd hoped, there were relatively few criminals out and about, and once his dark shadow swooped over them they wasted no time in wishing they'd stayed home. Towards the end of his route he came across an electronics store break in; petty garbage, really, but one of the robbers was unfortunate enough to look a bit like Daniel Sawyer and stupid enough to mouth off when he heard the order to cease and desist. Two broken arms later, he swore tearfully to never steal or hit a child again; the fact that he'd never actually laid a hand on a kid wasn't worth arguing about when he took in the snarl being directed at him.
Before returning to the cave, the black-clad man went by the warehouse, wanting to have at least a mental map of the tunnels just in case another villain ever decided to utilize the complex. He'd been in such a hurry to get to Mount Justice after the chemist's takedown that he hadn't stopped to investigate them, but there was no use in putting the chore off. Approaching the building, his eyes narrowed. Feds, he huffed, displeased. The worst moments in the working relationship of Batman and Commissioner Gordon were cherished memories in comparison to the best moments between Batman and the federal authorities. The fact that Sawyer would likely get a much stiffer sentence if tried at a higher level than Gotham wasn't quite enough to erase his desire for the unknowns to get the hell out of his city.
The one time I might find Superman useful, he sighed. He's the best of us all at kissing ass. Probably the only reason the government still funnels us cases… There was no way in hell that the presence of national officials was going to deter him from his plan, even without the Boy Scout, so he swung to the roof and used the same entrance as before. Inside, he crouched in the rafters to get a sense of the situation, completely unbeknownst to the ten or so men below. Only when Jim Gordon emerged from the warehouse room, speaking eagerly with a tall, dark man that he didn't recognize, did Batman drop to ground level. Officers stumbled out of the way as he brushed past them, but he looked neither left nor right until he'd drawn to a stop before the pair that might actually be capable of telling him something of interest.
"Commissioner."
"Batman," Gordon nodded. "This is Ketel Woodward, with Homeland Security. Mr. Woodward…Batman."
"Always a pleasure to meet another cog in the machine of national defense," Woodward greeted drily. To the cowled man's satisfaction, no hand was offered.
"Where's Sawyer?"
"He's being transferred to the federals," Gordon informed him. "Although I really don't see why, Mr. Woodward, when the crimes occurred in Gotham. It's our jurisdiction!"
"Sawyer was a contracted DoD employee, Commissioner, and he took that modified heroin over state lines. It's a federal matter."
"Has his lab been found?" Batman queried.
"No. We've searched all of the tunnels and found nothing other than those dazed guards and a few rooms that seem to be where Sawyer was giving people his concoction. The men you left down there still won't move a muscle. It's very inconvenient for the prison staff, having to…clean up after them. Honestly, Mr. Woodward, take them and leave me Sawyer."
"Sorry, Commissioner," Woodward shrugged. "Not my decision." He turned to the vigilante. "You take out all those guys GCPD had to process the other night?"
"No." Actually, I took down virtually none of them, he thought regretfully.
Woodward's eyebrows reached for the ceiling. "So who did?"
"Sawyer didn't tell you?"
"Sawyer's a closed book. He's been silent as the grave."
"Mm." You'd better hope they don't have anyone who can crack the makeup of the serum you put into that heroin, Sawyer; if they do, you're worthless. If they don't, though…you're invaluable. That's a pretty big gamble to take, unless you're certain no one can break it. Very smart, or very narcissistic. Probably both.
"…Batman?" Gordon pushed.
Oh, what the hell. The boys took more down than Flash and I combined, they earned the credit. "Robin and a…his friend from out of town," he answered finally. He understood full well the need for caution in bringing a young partner into their business, and was hesitant to break the news about Kid Flash's existence if the speedsters weren't ready.
"Who's this Robin?" Woodward asked.
"My god, man, you aren't joking, are you?" Gordon gaped, ignoring the agent's question. "Robin had a hand in all of that? That…that skinny little grin-and-a-wisp boy you had with you the other night? That Robin?!"
Dick's going to love it when I describe your face right now to him, Commissioner, he almost smirked. "That Robin, yes."
"…Wait…you're saying a kid knocked out all those men?" the federal man queried.
"Two kids," he corrected.
"There's another child involved now?!" Gordon looked apoplectic.
"Relax," Woodward chuckled, looking mildly impressed. "From what I've heard about the Batman, it's no surprise that his kid's got moves, too. Besides, didn't you hear? The other one was an out of town visitor. If there is another vigilante out there using a minor as a partner, it's not in your jurisdiction. Kinda like Sawyer." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Batman," he gave him an approving glance. "Thanks for the runaway chemist. Or, you know, thank your kid. Whatever's easier for you." With that, he turned and made to exit the building, the men not clad in GCPD uniforms following him automatically.
Damn it. It's too obvious that he's my son... Still, what could he possibly do to counteract that knowledge? It wasn't as if he could make the boy grow up any faster – even if I could…he's already grown up so much, just in nine months, and I feel like I'm missing it somehow – and taking away his mask until he aged naturally wasn't an option either. He'd be miserable if I even suggested that, he knew. He's still insecure for some reason; in costume is the only time that seems to really go away. Putting Robin on hiatus would only hurt him. Beyond that, he wanted the child out here with him; he hadn't realized just how dark the rooftops of Gotham were until there had been a light by his side. The whole world is different with him.
"Ah…" Gordon's noise broke into his musings."…Where is Robin this evening?"
"…It's Christmas Eve, Commissioner," Batman answered sharply. "He's where all children should be tonight."
"Awaiting Santa," he nodded. "Although…I suppose he's a little too old for that, isn't he?"
"Mm."
"But as you said, it's Christmas Eve…shouldn't you be home?"
"Shouldn't you?" he growled back, well aware that the other man had a child of his own.
"Yes, well…business gets in the way sometimes," he looked away, conscience-stricken.
Business… Yes, business got in the way, sometimes. Too often, really. He could only hope that Alfred's words earlier were true ones, and that Dick understood why he wasn't with him right then. "I came to look at the tunnels," he said abruptly, marching away towards the stairs without another word. And then I'm going home, he told himself rigidly. I've already missed too much.
