Chapter 4:

The Batcave:

Batman picked up the Bat-phone and called Commissioner Gordon's office. He knew he should apologize – Alfred had, in fact, made him promise to do so – but he didn't feel like doing it now.

"Batman," the commissioner answered stiffly.

Commissioner Gordon also knew he needed to apologize. He should not have hung up on the Caped Crusader, no matter how frustrated they both were. But he, too, didn't feel like doing it now.

"Please connect me with Warden Crichton's office," the hero said gruffly.

Both men silently sighed; they had just had this conversation thirty-two minutes ago and neither man wanted to repeat the ending of that discussion. Commissioner Gordon decided to acquiesce the request, even though he knew Batman could call the warden himself.

"Just a moment," the older man replied, his tone laced with both frustration and sympathy.

There was a long pause and then a woman answered the phone.

"Warden Crichton's office, how may I help you?"

"Mrs. Martins, am I correct?" Batman asked, although he already knew he was.

"Yes, may I ask who's calling?"

"This is Batman. I need to speak to Warden Crichton."

"I'm sorry, Batman, but he is unavailable. I'll be happy to take a message for you."

"No, this is something I can only discuss with him."

"Well, then I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you."

Lucinda waited for an answer but all she heard was a dial tone.

"Sir, maybe you should have left a message."

"Alfred, the less people who know about Robin's current residence, the better."

"I know, Master Batman, and I agree. However, now you have to wait and call again later. If you had left a message – even just a 'call me back as soon as possible' – Mrs. Martins could have given it to him as soon as she sees him."

"I assume she is smart enough to tell the warden that I called. Of course he'll call me back as soon as possible."

"Of course, sir. I'm just worried about young Master Robin, sitting a cell with who-knows-what criminal and waiting for you to come check on him."

Batman suddenly grabbed the Bat-phone and threw it across the room, where it hit a wall and shattered.

"My word, sir, there was no cause for that!" Alfred exclaimed quietly. "It's a good thing we have Bat-replacements for almost everything."

"I'm going. The warden can deal with a surprise visit," the Caped Crusader almost yelled. "What is he doing right now, what's the schedule?" he demanded angrily.

"I don't know, Master Batman," Alfred replied somewhat icily. "Perhaps, sir, you should look it up on the Bat-computer."

Growling, Batman marched over to the Bat-computer and started pushing buttons. Thirty-three seconds later a card popped out of the exit slot.

"Breakfast – 6:30 for half an hour. How do they feed that many people in half an hour? Yard time – half an hour. Showers – half an hour. How do they…. Forget it. Cells until lunch. That's four hours of cell time! He's going to need something to do."

The last sentence was murmured thoughtfully before Batman continued.

"Lunch – noon for half an hour. Yard time – half an hour. Cells until dinner – another four hours. Dinner – 5:00 for half an hour. Rec time for inmates with good behavior – one hour. Cells until the next morning at breakfast. He's going to go stir crazy with all that inactive time."

"I'm sure Warden Crichton will allow you to bring something for Master Robin, sir. Books, perhaps?"

"I'll make up a work-out schedule for him," Batman stated as if he hadn't even heard his butler. "Specific exercises that can be done in a small prison cell. I'll have the warden put him on library duty. That's safe; I don't know of any villains that like to read."

Batman strode toward the Batmobile as he spoke. Alfred could hear ideas still coming out of the hero's mouth as the vehicle roared down the tunnel toward the exit.

State Pen – 30 minutes later:

Mrs. Martins wasn't at her desk. Unusual, Batman mused as he tapped on the door to Warden Crichton's office. There was no answer so he walked in and was surprised to see the secretary looking thoughtfully at some paperwork on the warden's desk.

"Where is Warden Crichton?" Batman asked by way of greeting.

"Still unavailable, Batman, I'm sorry," Lucinda replied as she looked up.

"I need to talk to him. NOW!"

"I can't do anything about that, Batman. If you'll just tell me…"

"Like I said on the phone, it can only be between Warden Crichton and myself."

"If you'll let me…"

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know. Can I just explain…"

"How do you not know?! You're his secretary!"

"Yes, if you'll just let me…"

"I'll wait."

Batman sat down on the chair closest to him and folded his arms across his chest.

"Um, I don't know, there's something…"

"I. Will. Wait."

"Okay, but you should know…"

"Do I need to repeat myself again?"

"Batman, I'm trying to explain! Will you just listen? Please," Lucinda added when a Bat-glare was sent in her direction.

"There is nothing to explain, Mrs. Martins. I need to speak to Warden Crichton, who apparently is a very hard man to get a hold of right now, so I'll wait for him to return. He has to come back to his office sometime. Just go about your business and I'll wait here."

Lucinda scowled as Batman looked away. If he would just let her explain the situation, he would probably tell her what was so important. But, if he was just going to be rude about it then she would just let him wait. All day. Maybe he would actually listen to her when the lights out bell rang and she packed up to go home.

Grabbing the papers she had been perusing off the warden's desk, Lucinda marched out the door and sat down at her desk. Important papers could be read anywhere.

While Batman was up in Warden Crichton's office, waiting in vain for the man to return, Robin was doing pushups in his cell. He had already done sit ups and was thinking about doing pull ups next, using the bars on the small window on the south wall. But his thoughts were interrupted by another screeching bell.

He didn't know what time it was, but Robin estimated that he had been in this tiny cell for almost two hours. So, he was not surprised when footsteps began pounding down the halls, echoing in all directions and giving him a headache. Other loud noises joined in – talking, laughing, some angry yells – and the Boy Wonder was pretty sure he was going to have a continuous headache while he was in here.

The footsteps were coming closer so Robin quickly slid under the bunk bed and tried to calm his breathing. There were no shadows in his cell right now so it was the only place that might help him stay out of sight of the other prisoners.

All the cell doors opened with a 'clang' and Robin watched distinctive, familiar shoes pass by his cell. Then two pairs of shoes stopped, right in front of his door. One was obviously a guard but the other was unfamiliar.

"I guess you're alone for now," a gruff voice said. "Enjoy your stay."

A large pair of brown shoes stumbled into the cell just before all the doors closed. It was obvious to Robin that the guard had given the new inmate a "gentle" shove, just as Lt. Jameson had done to him this morning.

"Hey newbie," Joker shouted from his cell, "what's your name?"

"Mind your own business."

The voice was deep and sounded dangerous. The criminal took three steps then sat down on the bottom bunk. Robin shrunk back against the wall as the bed sank down slightly.

"We can't help you if we don't know who you are!" Penguin cackled. "When we escape, we won't take you with us!"

"Mind. Your. Business."

The voice was completely unfamiliar. Robin really hoped that Batman was going to come check on him soon. He scowled at himself in his head. He was the Boy Wonder, he wasn't going to be scared of a voice he didn't recognize and he wasn't going to let Batman know that he was actually terrified. Batman was worried enough; Robin wasn't going to make it worse by telling him who was in his cell block.

He will want to know.

It will stress him out.

He needs to know the level of danger.

He needs to know I'm safe, that's all. Relatively safe, anyway.

You're not safe. Joker, Penguin, Riddler, Deep Voice.

Nobody knows I'm here. I'm safe.

For now.

Four hours later:

The bell screeched again and Robin was both relieved and terrified. He had been underneath the bunk bed the entire time and his body was one large cramp. It felt like he had been there for a week and his muscles had been begging for action for a long time.

Assuming it was time for lunch, the Boy Wonder began stretching his limbs. Well, as best he could while lying on his side and pinned down by a sagging mattress with a large body resting on it. The teen's cellmate got up, stomped to the door and waited for it to open. The person was impatient; Robin could tell by the way the feet were shifting around.

The doors opened with their now-familiar 'clang' and Robin stopped moving. He waited for all the shoes to pass by his cell and then waited some more for the loud footsteps to fade. Rolling out from under the bed, he slowly stood up and winced as imaginary needles started poking his limbs. Everything had fallen asleep and every movement was slightly painful. But, the Boy Wonder was hungry – he hadn't had anything to eat or drink since lunch yesterday.

So, ignoring the slicing needles, Robin stumbled toward his cell door. Just as he was about to step over the threshold, it slammed in his face. He grabbed the bars and shook them but the door was locked and he was still inside.

"No lunch, either," he whispered sadly.

His stomach growled, taunting him, and Robin closed his eyes. He had gone without food for over a day before, he could do it again. It wasn't going to be fun, but he could do it. This was something else Batman was not going to know about.

Robin's throat was dry, and he realized that he had never gone this long without water. But, again, he could do it. He was a little dizzy but not enough to worry him. Everything was going to be fine. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder. He could do it. No problem.

Warden Crichton's office:

Batman had been pacing for the last hour. Where was the warden?! Shouldn't the man be back from wherever he had gone by now? What kind of warden leaves his prison for already half the day?

"Are you hungry, Batman? I can bring you a sandwich when I come back from lunch."

Lucinda's voice interrupted his thoughts and the Caped Crusader realized that he was, indeed, hungry. Maybe he should go down to the prison cafeteria and eat there. Then he was bound to see either Warden Crichton or Robin.

"Okay," Lucinda stated after several moments of silence. She assumed that the hero was going to continue being rude, even though she had just been nice enough to offer to bring him something.

"I'll go to the cafeteria," Batman stated firmly.

"Oh, then you'll have to wait until the inmates have eaten. Nobody except the guards and cafeteria workers are allowed inside while the prisoners are having meals."

"Warden Crichton can make an exception," the Caped Crusader growled.

"Actually, he can't," Lucinda replied. "As I was trying to tell you earlier…"

"Yes, he can," Batman barked angrily.

Throwing her hands in the air, the usually calm Lucinda Martins yelled, "If you're not going to listen to me you might as well just leave!"

"Fine," Batman snarled as he stalked out the door.

There was a prison map on the wall right over the secretary's desk. Batman glanced at it, memorized the layout and strode away.

"You're going to regret this," Lucinda murmured as she watched him leave. Nobody got in or out of the cafeteria during mealtimes. Not even Batman.

Robin was sitting on the hard ground, his back against the bars of his cell and his forehead on his bent knees. Going without water for over twenty-four hours was difficult, more difficult than he could have imagined. He felt like the energy was draining out of him, as if the liquid he required was oozing out of his pores and sliding down his whole body.

The bell rang again, and Robin waited for the pounding footsteps. But there were none, so he closed his eyes and tried to take a nap.

The end-of-lunch bell rang just as Batman reached the barred door leading to the cafeteria. Yard time was next; Robin would be outside. His stomach growled but that feeling was, at the moment, unimportant. He needed to see his partner, and he really hoped the boy was uninjured.

A guard noticed the hero standing at the door and sauntered over.

"Whaddya' need?"

"I need to see Warden Crichton. Immediately."

"The warden ain't here, hasn't been all day."

"You haven't seen him at all?!"

"Thas what I jus' said, ain't it?"

"Open this door and let me in."

The guard stared at Batman skeptically and then laughed boisterously.

"I ain't got the key to this door. Only the warden has that one."

"Then how…"

"Lemme jus' tell you, Batman. We all stay inside, prisoners and guards, until yard time or unless Warden Crichton specifically tells us ta come out. But prisoners ain't leaving through this door, they go straight to the yard."

Pointing to the opposite side of the now-empty cafeteria, the guard continued, "They leave through there. After outside time, they go through another door and back to their cells. Ain't nobody comin' or goin' through this door without Warden Crichton's permission and key."

"They why is there even a door here?!" Batman roared.

"It leads to the warden's office, straight shot so he can get back ta work after meals."

Without another word, Batman turned around and strode back toward the warden's office. Lucinda had tried to tell him, but he had ignored her. In fact, he recalled as he climbed the stairs, she had been trying to tell him something all morning. But whatever it was didn't matter. All he needed to do was talk to Warden Crichton who, to Batman's knowledge, had never been out of his office for more than two hours at a time. So where was he now?

The bell screeched again but Robin was so deep in sleep that he didn't even stir. Noises began echoing down the halls, footsteps and voices and even the sound of a fist hitting flesh. But the teenager slept through it all.

"Hey newbie, you got a roommate!" Joker cackled as he walked past the door.

He kicked the bars, startling Robin into awareness. The teenager, without thinking, lifted his head.

"Boy Blunder?!" Joker screeched. "What are you doing here?!"

Robin jumped to his feet as the doors to all the cells swung open.

So much for keeping a low profile.

"The bird is here without the bat," Penguin remarked as he strolled past. "How delightful it will be at dinner. Where have you been all morning?"

"Under the bed," a deep voice growled the reply.

Robin backed up and dropped into a defensive stance. He was about to meet his cellmate. How the man had known he was under the bed was something to figure out later, when his life was in less danger. If that ever happened in here.

"Move along, Joker. Come on, Riddler. Let's go, everyone to your nice rooms."

Several guards pushed their way through the crowd now gathering around Robin's cell. Nightsticks at the ready, they began shoving the inmates toward their respective cells.

A large shadow filled the doorway and Robin stared up at the most muscular man he had ever seen. The guy's muscles had muscles and the Boy Wonder was suddenly terrified. He had no way of escaping this situation, other than fighting and beating the guy. If he won the fight, the hulk of a man would leave him alone.

Win?! Try 'survive'.

Robin knew he couldn't win and knew he was going to leave his cell today in either a body bag or on a stretcher on his way to the infirmary. There was no room to dodge the man's attacks and his speed could only hold off the guy for so long. The first good hit would take him down, but Robin was the Boy Wonder. He was going to do his best until he couldn't anymore.

The cell door shut with the 'clang' and the teenager's breathing increased. His heart was beating rapidly, he was still dizzy, and the pounding in his head intensified.

"Relax, kid, I'm not going to fight you."

His eyes widened in shock, but his fists stayed up. There was no way Robin was going to trust this guy.

"If I wanted to fight you, you'd already be on the ground. Seriously, relax."

The man strode around Robin, who circled with him so his back wouldn't be turned on his opponent. Sitting on the bottom bunk, the big man sighed heavily.

"You see this?" the man asked, holding up a giant fist. "This could take you out, easily. But I'm not a fighter and I'm not going to do anything to you."

Dropping his fist, he continued, "I know it's hard to trust someone you don't know, especially a criminal," he spat the word in disgust, "but I'm not going to hurt you. Name's Ned. What are you in for?"

"A mistake," Robin stated confidently, although the way he was feeling belied the bravado in his voice.

"Me, too," Ned replied.

They stared into each other's eyes, light-blue searching sea-green for any sign of a lie. There was none, and Robin relaxed marginally. His fists stayed up, but the tension drained out of his shoulders.

"They think I killed a man," Ned whispered sorrowfully. "He was already dead, I was just trying to help him. How can you know a person's dead if you haven't checked the body? His blood was all over my hands and the knife was on the floor a few feet away from me. There's no justice in Gotham City; I'm dead meat."

"Who was it?" Robin asked as he relaxed a little more.

"I don't even know. I went into the convenience store, picked up some snacks and went to pay for them. Nobody was at the register, so I rang the bell and waited for at least two minutes. Then I heard what sounded like a gasp, so I looked over the counter and there he was. Lying on the ground, blood all around him, not moving. All I did was go around the counter to check on him. Police came right as I pushed on the stab wound to stop the bleeding. Like I said, dead meat."

By now the teenager had dropped his fists and was standing tall. There was truth ringing throughout the man's story and Robin was no longer concerned about taking a beating.

"Were…"

"No cameras, kid, so I have no way to back up my story. What would you think if you came in and saw that scene?"

Robin stayed quiet and the man sighed again.

"Dead. Meat."

"What did you do, Boy Blunder, steal some candy from a baby?"

Joker's whiny voice sounded extra creepy in the prison hallway and Robin shuddered. He was going to take a beating later tonight, of that he was certain.

"Leave him alone, he's a kid. What's he going to do, talk you to death?" Ned yelled back.

"He is very good at that," Riddler giggled. "Chatterbox, chatterbox, Robin is a chatterbox!"

"Robin?" Ned asked, one eyebrow raised quizzically. "Your name is Robin?"

The teenager was a little nervous at the man's tone. How much did Ned know about the Dynamic Duo and was he going to change his mind about fighting?

"Yep," Joker called, popping the 'p' at the end of the word. "Robin, Robbie, Boy Blunder, Kid Idiot…"

"Shut up," Robin growled, throwing a glare over his shoulder even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see the Clown Prince of Crime.

"As in, Batman's sidekick Robin?" Ned asked, his tone now incredulous.

This time it was Penguin who answered for Robin.

"That's right, Batman's baby bird," the villain sang, ending the phrase with a very duck-sounding cackle.

Ned stood up, his large frame making the teenager feel like a first grader.

"You know I could just take off your mask," Ned stated. "One punch, lights out for you and I find out your identity."

Dropping into a defensive stance again, Robin snarled, "Don't even try it."

"I'm not going to," the man replied, stretching his arms over his head. "You're my son's hero. You saved him once – he fell on the subway tracks and you grabbed him before he could get run over."

Robin dropped his fists again, surprised at the revelation. He remembered it well; the train had almost taken off his leg. Alfred had to make him a new pair of tights because they were scorched from the heat of the wheel grinding on the tracks and throwing sparks on him.

Sitting down again, Ned said, "I got your back."

The words were so quiet that even Robin could barely hear them, so he knew nobody else knew that he now had an ally in the State Pen.