Chapter 6:

Batman couldn't believe that he had spent the entire day at the State Pen and hadn't seen his partner at all. He had promised, promised, Robin that he would check on him every day. But he hadn't even been able to do it on the first day of the boy's incarceration!

The hero remembered the look of terror in the Boy Wonder's eyes when he had asked the commissioner to try to speed up the hearing. There were so many reasons for Robin to be terrified, the most worrisome was the list of villains currently inside with him.

But, as Alfred had said, Warden Crichton wouldn't put him in the same cell block with villains who hated him.

"Warden Crichton's not there. She never sent Robin to the visitor area. Does she even know where he is?"

The Batmobile coasted to a stop in the Batcave as Batman spoke his thoughts. Robin had been taken to the State Pen late last night. Did Lucinda Martins know to check the processing log? Did the guard who processed him think about avoiding the villains' cell block when finding a space for Robin?

"Sir, there's an interim warden at the State Pen."

"I know that, Alfred!"

"Please allow me to finish, Master Batman," the butler stated patiently.

Batman mumbled something under his breath and folded his arms across his chest. Alfred internally sighed when he heard, "…already know…".

"Commissioner Gordon," the faithful butler continued, "received a call from this person…"

"Lucinda Martins," Batman interrupted irritably.

"Yes, sir, and gave him a message to give to Batman."

"Let me guess, she's sorry she wasn't around the rest of the day," the Caped Crusader commented sarcastically.

"For heaven's sake, sir, let me finish!" Alfred exclaimed sharply.

There was no reply so the older man resumed his statement.

"She told him that the only Robin at the State Pen is a woman whose name is spelled with a 'y'. There is no record of any other Robin."

"WHAT?" Batman exploded, dropping his arms in astonishment. "How can there be no record of him?!" he roared.

Alfred almost covered his ears as the thunderous words echoed around the Batcave but was able to restrain himself.

"I assume, Master Batman, that you were not able to see him today."

This time it was the man's cowl that was thrown across the Batcave. Batman had ripped it off his head and used it to manifest his frustration.

"I promised him, Alfred!" the younger man shouted, both distress and fury surrounding the words.

"Sir…"

"Anything could have happened to him today and he didn't even get to see me! I. PROMISED. HIM!"

Bruce Wayne dropped onto the nearest chair, put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands.

Alfred was, for one of the few times in his long life, unsure of what to do or say. Batman was right: he had promised to check on Robin every day and that promise had already been broken. It was the teenager's first day in one of the scariest places he would ever be, and Batman hadn't come to check on him.

"Perhaps, sir, you could go over there and Bat-climb your way…"

"I don't even know where he is," Batman interrupted quietly. "Apparently nobody does. All the people I talked to were clueless, they didn't even know he was incarcerated!"

"That's one small piece of good news, Master Bruce," Alfred replied. "He's keeping a low profile. I'm sure Batman would have been contacted if his young counterpart was in the infirmary, sir."

"But…he's Dick now!" Bruce exclaimed as he lifted his head.

"I'm also sure, sir, that Officer O'Toole – the transferring officer you told me about – wouldn't allow him to be stripped of his identity."

"O'Toole's a good man," Bruce agreed. "Hopefully Robin's not in uniform, though. He'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"The young master's identity can still be preserved with only his mask, Master Bruce."

"I don't know what else to do, Alfred," Bruce whispered. "The day is over, he's probably asleep by now. I promised him."

The faithful butler stood still, silently waiting for his oldest charge to regain control of his emotions. The two tiny tears that slid down the cheeks of Bruce Wayne didn't escape Alfred's notice, but he chose not to say anything.

Silence reigned for several minutes. Finally, Bruce stood up and ran a hand down his face to erase any evidence. With a quick nod to his butler, the man slowly walked to his Batpole and shot himself up to the Manor.

Now it was Alfred who dropped onto the nearest chair. His thoughts immediately turned to Robin, who was probably terrified. The boy, after accepting the fact that Batman hadn't come to check on him, was going to feel completely alone. Alfred didn't even try to stop the tears that began sliding down his cheeks.

The State Pen – Warden Crichton's office:

Ned Pucker was standing in front of Lucinda Martins, wondering why she was the interim warden. She had been alternately staring at him and then perusing some paperwork for several minutes and Ned was becoming impatient.

"Why am I here?" he finally asked.

"Ned, I read your file," Lucinda replied. "This is a mistake, you shouldn't be here."

The man silently nodded his agreement and waited for her to continue.

Several seconds later, she stated, "I'm getting you out of here. Officer Grady is waiting outside the door. He'll take you down to Officer Listern, who will then take you back to Gotham City. Do you have a way to get home from Police Headquarters?"

Ned nodded again, astonishment racing through his eyes. She believed him?! Then it was concern that flew across the sea-green circles. Robin would be on his own. The boy couldn't take another beating without someone by his side. But…he, Ned, was free to go!

"Thank you, ma'am, I really appreciate this. If I could ask for a favor…"

Ned paused, waiting for some sign of affirmation. Lucinda nodded and he was relieved.

"If it's possible, will you please move Robin to a different cell block?"

"Robyn?" she asked, surprise surrounding the word.

"Yes, you see, it will be much harder if I'm gone because…"

He was about to continue but she interrupted with a quick nod. Waving her hand in dismissal, she said, "Done."

And, with that, Ned Pucker left the office of Interim Warden Martins, grateful that Robin would be in less danger. There were still a lot of criminals but at least he wouldn't be by himself against evil villains. Guards were abundant in the cafeteria and outside. The boy might get banged up again, but the commotion would be broken up quickly. Much quicker than it had been in the darkness of the rec room.

Ten minutes later, in Cell Block H in the women's section of the prison, Robyn Sunders wondered why she was being moved out of her row and into the next one. What was the difference between blocks H and G?

The next morning – 6:25:

The ever-annoying shriek of the bell startled Robin out of a restless sleep. He abruptly sat up and immediately winced when his bruised torso protested the movement. Robin carefully stretched his arms over his head and then rubbed his tired eyes. That was a mistake, he realized, when his equally bruised face began lightly throbbing.

Robin's stomach growled at him and dizziness suddenly assaulted him. He needed food and water, there was no other choice. Unless he wanted to die of dehydration, which he didn't. The Boy Wonder slowly climbed down the ladder and was surprised to see the lower bunk empty. Ned hadn't come back from his visit to the warden. Interim warden, he remembered. Getting to the cafeteria might be a little rougher than Robin had anticipated when he fell asleep last night.

The package that the guard had thrown in last night was still on the floor. It was from Lt. Copple – that's what the guard had said, anyway – so there was no reason to be suspicious. He slowly bent down and picked it up then sat down on the bottom bunk. Upon opening it, he was surprised to see a teenager-sized pair of pants and short-sleeved t-shirt. There were no socks or shoes but the Boy Wonder hadn't worn either of those at all yesterday so it didn't matter to him.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Robin changed clothes. He tossed the bigger ones on top of the large socks and shoes, which were in a pile in the front corner of the cell. Stretching carefully, he was grateful to find that the fit was nearly perfect.

Thank you, Lt. Copple.

The doors suddenly clanged open and Robin made a quick decision. He raced out of his cell, intending to get to the cafeteria and safety of the guards before anyone had a chance to get in a lucky hit. Then he realized, as he abruptly stopped at a three-way intersection, that he had no idea where the cafeteria was.

A large body barreled into him from behind and Robin stumbled forward. A fist connected with his lower back and the Boy Wonder turned sideways. Whoever had hit him tumbled to the ground. The angle of Robin's turn, though, caused him to hit the corner of the wall to his left. He bounced off the sharp edge, tripped over the body behind him and fell to the ground hard.

Immediately there was a crowd around him. He was trapped again but he was Robin. The man who had fallen was on his hands and knees now, shaking his head to clear his vision. Robin used the position to his advantage, rolling under the man as punches rained down toward his body.

Grabbing the nearest pair of ankles, the Boy Wonder pulled as hard as he could, sweeping the person's feet out from under him. That body fell to the ground and everyone started moving in that direction, assuming the teenager was already fighting on that side. Smirking slightly, Robin rolled out the way he had come in then leapt to his feet.

"Not good enough, Boy Blunder!" a familiar voice whined in his ear.

He felt the air moving so Robin ducked, turned to his right, and drove his shoulder into the chest of Joker. The man stumbled back and hit a wall. But there were too many people bent on revenge for a young crime-fighter to handle alone.

Robin got hit from behind again, on the head this time, and fell forward. But he was the Boy Wonder, so he tucked his head and rolled right over the body of the fallen Joker. Popping up to his feet again, the teenager turned around just in time for his nose to meet a large fist. Blood spurted out and the crowd of prisoners began surrounding him again.

But Robin got lucky just in time, like he had yesterday in the rec room. Guards finally began pulling people away and shoving them back toward their respective cells. Robin's hands flew to his nose in an attempt to stop the blood. He had never had a probable broken nose and now knew that he never wanted to have one again.

The fallen bodies of Joker and the two guys Robin had taken out were dragged away, all of them conscious but too groggy to get to their cells by themselves.

"Let's go, kid," someone snarled.

Robin was leaning against a wall, his hands still covering his face. He groaned as he realized that the guard now pulling on his arm was the same unsympathetic one from yesterday. The teenager assumed that he wasn't going to go to the infirmary, even though his entire face was bloody.

And the Boy Wonder was right. The guard shoved Robin into his cell but then stepped in with him.

"Lemme see it," the man grumbled.

Robin took his hands off his face and the guard stared at him in disgust. The boy had been able to stop the blood so the nose probably wasn't a big deal. Pulling a latex glove out of his back pocket, the man shoved his hand into it and touched Robin's nose.

The teenager had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from screaming in pain. He was pretty sure now that it was broken but the man in front of him didn't look too concerned about it.

"I'll get ya' a wet tow so you can clean off your face. Man up, kid, yur fine."

The guard backed out the door, slammed it shut and locked it. He walked away, pulling off the glove and mumbling about idiots who let themselves get hit hard enough to bleed.

"NO BREAKFAST!" the remaining guard yelled down the hall. "If you guys can't handle being out of your cells, then you can stay in them until lunch! Maybe by then you'll be calm enough to walk to the dang cafeteria."

That guard, too, walked away mumbling about two riots in two days and wondering if the boy in the last cell had started both of them. Maybe he should talk to the warden.

"Of course," Robin mumbled through the pain. "No breakfast."

He carefully walked to the bunk bed and sat on the lower one. His entire body was now trembling from pain, fear and hunger. The Boy Wonder was dizzy and his heart was beating quickly, as if he was still in a fight. Those two things, he knew, were signs of dehydration. Wishing Ned was back, the teenager slowly laid down, hoping to ease the pain that was spreading from his nose to his entire head.

A shadow passed his cell door and Robin heard a 'plop'. He carefully turned his head and saw a sopping wet cloth sitting in the middle of the floor. Did he really care enough to get out of bed and clean himself up? Internally shaking his head, the teenager ignored the towel and closed his eyes. Batman wasn't going to see him anyway so there was really no point in cleaning up.

Batman, however, was already back at the State Pen. He was in the processing room, glaring at Lt. Steven Muschamp as the man searched through the processing book. Lt. Jameson, who worked the day shift, had taken some time off for a family vacation.

"There's no Robin listed here, Batman," Lt. Muschamp declared.

Spinning the book around so it faced the hero, the man showed the Caped Crusader the log from two nights ago. Batman stared at the page in disbelief: it was blank. But Robin had been in the transfer truck two nights ago. How was there no record of him arriving?

"I need your phone," the hero demanded and Lt. Muschamp readily complied.

Commissioner Gordon answered on the first ring.

"Commissioner, get me Officer O'Toole," Batman commanded.

"I don't know if he's in yet, Batman, but I'll check," the commissioner replied.

There were several minutes of silence and then Commissioner Gordon was speaking again.

"Today is his day off. He'll be in tomorrow morning at seven."

Batman, for the first time in his life as the Caped Crusader, dropped his guard.

"Commissioner," he whispered, "there's no record of Robin in the processing log. I need to know if he even made it here."

The commissioner almost dropped the phone at both the news and the tone of the hero's voice. Batman sounded nothing like the strong, confident Caped Crusader that he was used to hearing. He sounded almost…defeated?

Without hesitation, Commissioner Gordon stated, "Give me a few minutes, Batman. I'll get ahold of O'Toole and figure this out. You're in the processing room at the State Pen, I assume?"

There was a quiet "yes" and the commissioner continued, "I'll call you back."

Both men slowly hung up their respective phones. And both men stood stock still, concern filling their bodies and dread in their eyes.

Commissioner Gordon hadn't seen Officer O'Toole yesterday. Could something have happened on the way to the State Pen? Maybe the officer and the Boy Wonder hadn't even made it there!

"Bonnie, please bring me the personnel file for Officer O'Toole, as quickly as possible," the commissioner said as he pushed the button on his intercom.

"Right away, sir," Bonnie Linseed replied professionally.

She was entering his office twenty seconds later, file in hand. Commissioner Gordon was grateful that she was so organized and efficient. The sooner he talked to O'Toole the better.

Quickly flipping through the folder, the man found the phone number he was looking for and picked up the phone. He dialed the number and waited impatiently.

"Hello, this is Mary."

Mary, the commissioner knew, was Officer O'Toole's wife.

Wasting no time with small talk, the man said, "This is Jim Gordon. Is your husband home?"

"Oh, Commissioner, hi," the woman replied, surprise in her voice. "He's out back, if you hold just a minute I'll go get him. Is something wrong?"

Now there was worry in her voice but the commissioner was in a hurry.

"Just go, please!" he almost yelled.

The line went silent but was picked up only thirty-six seconds later.

"This is O'Toole."

"Mitch, did you get Robin over to the State Pen two nights ago?"

"Yes, Commissioner, of course. Did something happen to him?"

"Well, that's what I'm trying to figure out. Nobody seems to know where he is in the prison and there's no record in the processing log. You're sure he was checked in?"

"I put him in the capable hands of Lt. Copple, sir. Although…"

There was a long pause and the commissioner tightened his hand on the phone.

"Although what, Officer?"

"I don't think Copple wrote his name down, sir. When Robin said his name, the lieutenant was so surprised that I think he dropped his pen. I'm pretty sure he didn't write anything in the logbook. He looked a little dumbfounded because the Boy Wonder was waiting to be processed at the State Pen. I would be too, sir, if I didn't know the circumstances."

Nodding his agreement, although he knew the officer couldn't see the movement, the commissioner said, almost to himself, "Copple? They'll have his number there."

Officer O'Toole wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer but he did anyway.

"Yes, Commissioner, I'm sure they will."

Startled out of his musings, the commissioner stated, "Thanks, O'Toole. You've been most helpful."

"Hope nothing bad has happened," the officer replied but the only thing he heard was a dial tone.

Commissioner Gordon hung up the phone then picked it right back up. The number for the processing room at the State Pen was on the sticky note in the middle of his desk. He quickly dialed and, again, waited impatiently.

"Lt. Muschamp, State Pen processing department."

"Muschamp, is Batman there?"

"Yes, sir, here he is."

"Well?" the gruff voice of the Caped Crusader rumbled through the phone.

"I talked to O'Toole, who said he and Robin made it there. But he thinks the processing officer didn't write Robin's name down in the logbook."

"I'll take it from here," Batman immediately replied. Then, much softer, he said, "Thanks, Jim."

Before the commissioner could reply, the hero hung up and glared at Lt. Muschamp.

"Who does the processing at night? Specifically, two nights ago around midnight?"

"Lt. Copple has the night shift, Batman. I assume you want to talk to him?"

The man asked the question as he began typing into his computer. He heard the affirmative growl just as he pulled up the information for Lt. Copple. Picking up the phone, Lt. Muschamp quickly dialed the number then passed the phone to Batman.

Copple picked up on the first ring. His mind, although sleepy, was still alert. He had just walked into his house when the phone began ringing. It was his bedtime, and he was a little irritated that someone would call him at seven in the morning.

"What?" he growled unceremoniously.

"Why didn't you write down his name?" Batman demanded.

Lt. Copple was now wide awake. He immediately recognized the voice but was unsure of the answer to the question.

"Who are you talking about, Batman?"

"Robin, you idi…Robin!"

The lieutenant's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't logged Robin into the system.

"I…he was…it was so…"

Lt. Copple's stuttered phrases were immediately interrupted.

"Was Robin there two nights ago?" Batman demanded again.

"Um, yes, sir, I checked him in. He changed and I took him to the overnight cell. Lt. Jameson was supposed to pick him up in the morning and take him to a regular cell."

"Jameson?" Batman growled, glancing at the name tag on the chest of the man in front of him.

"Yes, sir, he's the processing…"

Copple's sentence was interrupted by the buzzing of the dial tone.

"Who is Lt. Jameson?" Batman snapped.

"Oh, he's the usual man," Muschamp replied. "But he's on vacation for the next three or four days."

"NOBODY in this forsaken hole has any idea where Robin is?!" Batman roared.

Lt. Muschamp flinched but didn't back down.

"I'm sure there must be…I mean, there are other prisoners in here. Somebody…"

"How many blocks are in here?"

"Fourteen, Batman. Four blocks, G-J, comprise the women's section. The rest are men."

"Explain the system for deciding who goes where," the Caped Crusader commanded.

"Maximum security, blocks A and B, are reserved for murderers and any prisoners who create some trouble. Blocks C-F are average criminals – like small time muggers, first-timers, ordinary law breakers. They don't need max because they aren't flight risks. Women are in G-J, as I said before. Blocks K-M are for villains – Joker, Riddler, Penguin, Mr. Freeze, etc. – and many of their henchmen. And, last but not least, N is isolation."

"What if the prisoner is a teenager who is accused of murder but is innocent?" Batman snarled.

Lt. Muschamp laughed as he said, "Aren't they all innocent?"

A full-force Bat-glare hit the man square in the eyes and he immediately stopped laughing.

"Well, we're at capacity so I'm guessing wherever there's space. We need Lt. Jameson if we don't want to go traipsing through all the blocks, looking for a small needle in a giant haystack."

"You're telling me he could be anywhere?!"

"Well, yes. Except, of course, blocks G-J."

Muschamp almost laughed again but restrained himself. Glancing at his watch, the man stated, "The men in K-M, the villains, have outside time right now for another five or six minutes. We can look out there, if you want."

"Go," Batman commanded.

Lt. Muschamp practically raced around his desk and led the way toward the hall that would lead to the yard just outside the cafeteria. Batman, cape sweeping behind him, almost kept running the man over. It felt, to the Caped Crusader, like the officer was traveling at the pace of a turtle.

The piercing ring of the bell sounded just as the two men exited the cafeteria. Guards had begun rounding up the prisoners and were herding them toward the entrance like cows to their pens.

"STOP!" Batman commanded and everyone froze.

"Let me through," the hero demanded as he strode toward the group. "Let me look at everyone. Move!"

The guards began spreading the prisoners out and Batman searched every face and behind every back. No Robin.

"Go," he growled, dismissing everyone.

At least he knew Robin wasn't with the villains.