Monday, September 7, 2009
Gotham, Massachusetts
Under the rosy dawn sky, two men set out to recognize Labor Day by breaking in to a downtown tire store ten minutes away from its 6:30 a.m. opening. When a young man walked out the street-facing door to surmise the front of Todd Tires, he found himself staring at the business ends of two Glock 19's. Swiftly and soundlessly, the two burglars herded store owner into the shop and prepared to rob him.
Black hooded sweatshirts, scarves, sunglasses, and gloves effectively disguised the burglars from the abysmal quality videos that the nearby security cameras would produce. Added with the commendable execution of the break-in, the burglary had all the makings of one that would allow its perpetrators to escape consequence free.
Except for the footage captured by one of the world's greatest video recorders: the Batman's lenses. Unbeknownst to the armed robbers, Gotham's Dark Knight knelt perched on a rooftop opposite the crime, gathering evidence that would ensure the perpetrators did their time.
And once the owner of Todd Tires visibly handed over green dollar bills at gunpoint, Batman decided he had seen enough.
"Clear," his mechanized baritone voice rang out.
In response, a blur of motion leapt down and forward from the roof of the four story red-brick apartment complex that Todd Tires served as the base of. The sunshine yellow, scarlet red, and verdant green streak flew through the glass window of Todd Tires' front door. A single shout of surprise was immediately followed and eclipsed by shrieks of pain. Yet barely more than a second later, silence once more reigned the dawn air.
"Your subduals have become more fluid," Batman complimented his fifteen year old apprentice once they enclosed themselves within the Batmobile.
"Is that a compliment?" Robin dramatically drawled as he took off the premier tech variant of a carbon filter sports face mask, revealing his lower face.
"A statement of fact," Batman responded with faintly upturned lips. Not that Robin could see it, as the Dark Knight had yet to retract his pointy-eared helmet's mouthpiece.
In the minutes preceding sunrise, the Batmobile rode toward Gotham's central police precinct. For a garage accessible only to Gotham Police Department leadership and the Batman served as his most common threshold to the underground network he had built as an extension to the Bristol Township cave system. From it, the Batmobile emerged at every sunset precisely. And at every sunrise precisely, the Batmobile disappeared to whence it came.
Yet despite the commonality of this procedure, Robin's unmasked hazel-green eyes fixated a forlorn gaze at the Batmobile's surroundings as it drove under Gotham just as the sun broke into the sky.
"It will be a mere three weeks till you ride with me again," Batman offered in his natural yet still baritone voice. "Not to mention that your next two weekends at Brentwood Academy are your only back to back closed weekends."
"Yah, but even then, I'll only be able to join you for Friday and Saturday nights," Robin bemoaned.
"If Alfred had his way, you wouldn't don the Robin suit at all during the school year," Batman reminded.
"I don't get it," Robin started as he suddenly jerked his head to his left fast enough that his high volume tousled hair waved slightly. "When you were my age, you studied collegiate — no graduate — level neuroscience, computer science, and mechanical engineering while studying Dragon Kung Fu and Israeli Krav Maga from the best instructors your money and Alfred's CIA connections could hire."
"Your point?" Batman dryly inquired.
"If I'm your student, if I'm fighting alongside you, if I'm fighting for your mission...then why am I living an ordinary high school life?" Robin asked.
"I would hardly call the life of a fifteen year old fifth form student who takes most of his classes with sixth forms and happens to be the fastest boy in Massachusetts ordinary," Batman replied.
"Why do boarding schools go by third, fourth, fifth, and sixth form rather than freshman, sophomore, junior, and senior year," Robin muttered to himself.
"Yet another reason your high school life is far from 'ordinary'," Batman answered.
"But in comparison to you..." Robin started.
"I don't recall commencing patrol on my fifteenth birthday as you did this past spring equinox," Batman interjected.
"It's not like I could do it alone," Robin said with a dreary shrug.
"But you don't have to," Batman riposted. "Though the reasons for which we fight may be the same, our pathways are thoroughly different. Different in ways that are to your benefit. Hence why the promise that took me seventeen years to begin fulfilling took you less than three."
Robin fell silent, but the expressions of his tan face demonstrated his emotions were anything but still.
"Robin?" Batman asked. No response came.
For ten minutes, nothing but the muted hum of the Batmobile filled the air of the dark underground network.
"Dick?" Batman finally tried again. "Is there...something you would like to get off your chest?"
"I, um-nah no, it's silly," Dick dismissed.
"It can't be if it has predominated your mind since the end of patrol," Batman insisted.
"I mean, I know you've done this — Batman — since New Year's Day of 2000," Dick started. "But...sometimes, I can't help but fear-wonder! I can't help but wonder if, one day, because you're human..."
"The mission will take me?" Batman finished.
"It might not even be a gunman!" Dick exclaimed.
"It could always be a gunwoman," Batman dryly replied before he could stop himself.
"Bruce!" Dick shouted with a massive outburst of pent emotion.
"Bad taste," Batman acknowledged his poorly timed joke.
"There's so much that could happen!" Dick started. "Maybe, one day, fog will cloud your vision and you won't see the edge of a ledge."
"My lenses automatically heat up when in contact with a non-reactive liquid," Batman reminded.
"Maybe a condemned or should-be-condemned structure will suddenly collapse on you!" Dick hypothesized.
"That's why I wear body armor that protects me from blunt force trauma as well as piercing damage and gunshots," Batman offered.
"Maybe...maybe your line will fail you in the middle of a swing," Dick murmured.
"You're worried what happened to your parents will happen to me," Batman stated in understanding.
"You took me in when I had no one, and became just as much of a dad as my birth father," Dick said with an exceedingly rare vulnerability. "I can't bear to lose you too. And sometimes I fear that if I'm not there by your side..."
"You witnessed your parents murder just as I witnessed mine, and there was nothing either of us could do," Batman said in the gentlest tone he could muster.
"But that's why we trained, right?" Dick countered. "To make sure we would never be so helpless again?"
"We trained to try and prevent as many such situations from happening as humanely possible," Batman answered. "But as you said, we are only human. There is much we cannot control. And you are right to say that one day, I could simply have a wrist spasm as I swing and fall to an instant death."
"But take your friend Christopher for example," Gotham's Dark Knight continued before Dick could respond. "He'll be driving your friend group to Craigville Beach this morning in what will most likely amount to a one hour and thirty minute trip given the day. And then under the night sky, he'll drive you all back to Brentwood. With all of today's beach goers, driving holds much more risk than usual — especially with a sixteen year old at the wheel. Are you mentally preparing for a dance with death?"
"Well, I'll be riding shotgun," Dick offered.
"And what will you do if you see a car careening toward you?" Batman asked. "Will you grab the steering wheel and battle Christopher for control of his Mercedes?"
"No," Dick muttered.
"And if you see Christopher driving too quickly or too unsteadily, will you grab the steering wheel?" Batman pressed.
"No," Dick answered again.
"In fact, what is the probability that you will sleep for the duration of the car ride?" Batman questioned.
"High," Dick admitted. "Very high."
"So you trust him to get you there in one piece?" Batman posed as his final question.
"Well...I guess," Dick answered hesitantly. Although he fully trusted Christopher — or Topher as Dick called him — to drive competently, Dick knew the point Batman was truly making.
"Just like you trust my training every time you suit up," Batman followed Dick's answer.
Dick found no response to that statement. Although he had expected a decisive point to be made about trusting Batman not to randomly die, Dick was not prepared for the specific angle his mentor took.
"And any skill you did not learn from me, you learned from your birth parents," Batman completed his point.
"I-um-well..." Dick stammered — thoroughly at a loss as how to respond.
"I understand your concern," Batman said. "In fact, I appreciate it. But just as I had to trust you when I deemed you ready to join me in the field, you'll have to trust me to keep surviving as I have for nearly ten years — nevermind the adventures I had in years preceding my time as Gotham's avenger."
As the Batmobile neared the Batcave, and Dick's final chance for open conversation with his dad before a three week stay at Brentwood Academy drew to a close, Dick voiced one final question.
"Will you...will you always be the Batman?" Dick asked.
"What do you mean?" Batman evaded.
"You know exactly what I mean," Dick pressed. "Do you plan to retire? Or...do you...do you plan..."
To die as the Batman were the word's Dick's mouth refused to form. But Batman knew exactly what Dick meant, and he knew that Dick knew he knew the intended question.
Although Batman had a prepared answer to this question, he took several seconds to respond. Both to run over the words in his head for final fine tuning, and to give the impression that he hadn't prepared an answer.
"The reason why Alfred and I have given you a much more traditional teenage life than I had is to give you options," Batman started. "For me, once my seven year old self made this 1983 New Year's resolution just after my parents breathed their last, I structured my development and training in such a way that I would have no choice but to follow through. I never envisioned a life for myself other than Batman, much less a retirement plan."
"But," Batman quickly continued - not even having to look at Dick to feel his intense gaze. "I never envisioned meeting you. Finding such a kindred spirit so ready to leap into the mission. If there comes a time that the mission no longer is for you, I need to ensure you have a proper basis to conduct a life..."
Seeing Dick vigorously shake his head, Batman abandoned that trail of words and continued to the crux of his statement.
"However, if after years of being Robin you decide you do want to take up my mantle, I promise it will be yours by the time you are about as old as when I began," Batman concluded.
"You promise?" Dick asked with barely repressed enthusiasm.
"I promise," Batman answered will giving his son a faint smile.
As Batman expected, Dick was overjoyed to hear this. He had logically determined Batman's daily chances of death would increase as he accrued age and injury. Neverminding the certain advancements in criminal weaponry. But what Dick did not realize was that Batman's promise depended on this set of factors.
With the presumption that by the time Dick completed college, Bruce Wayne would be dead.