Author's note:

The first comic book I ever read was "Robin" Issue 19. I was thirteen, and we were at Lake Tahoe. My family decided to go biking on a trail there and, as I had no interest in joining them, I stayed in the car to read. I'd finished the book I brought, so I went to the market across the street from where we were parked and looked around for something to read. I saw the "Robin" comic (actually, there were two of them, #19 and 20) and looked through it, it looked interesting, so I went and asked my mom (they hadn't left yet) for my allowance, and also asked if I could buy the comic.

Okay, now you're probably asking why a teenager was asking for permission to buy a comic book, but you have to understand that my parents were a bit overprotective, and a few years previously when I asked my mom if I could buy a comic book she said that they were too violent. (If she only knew the kind of things that I was thinking at that age!)

Anyway, she said that I was old enough to make my own choices, and compared to some of the stuff I'd already read that was probably tame. So I got the comic and went back to the car and read it. As soon as I was done, I went back to the store and bought Issue 20. After that I became a regular customer at my local comicbook store, and the rest is history.

Now, about the story.

I wrote this a while back after toying with the question: "What if Jason Todd hadn't been killed by the Joker?" After years of careful consideration, I've come up with a somewhat complex and (I think) reasonable answer.




Out of the Shadows


The masked man stood alone in the Cemetery. A wintry breeze, bringing with it the promise of snow, made his long, black cape flutter about him like impatient wings, yearning to fly, to take him from this horrible place; from this vigil that part of him hated and part of him needed.

Had it really been only two years? It felt more like two decades. He had been here twice before. Once when they'd buried Alfred and Jason, and once a little more than a year later; and now he was here again, to pay his respects to the dead; to his family. The Batman knew that he would be here again.

Six tombstones, all lined up, hardly a fitting memorial to the people buried beneath them. The parents whose deaths had caused the birth of the Batman, so long ago. Alfred Pennyworth, who had been both friend and confidant, and had died of the Ebola Gulf two years ago. Jason Todd, who had battled against his rage and near insanity and won, he'd died a few days before Alfred. The contagion had come out of nowhere, and managed to wipe out most of the population of Gotham City, and surrounding areas, before a cure had been found.

Batman looked at the last two Tombstones with some hesitation, as always; he hadn't been there when these were put here. It had never seemed real to him; in a way it wasn't. Richard Grayson. Bruce Wayne.
Dick would have been buried next to his parents, if things had turned out differently, but the bodies of those who had died from the Ebola Gulf had filled the Cemetery that they had been buried in.

Batman had decided, after the Earthquake that destroyed Wayne Manor and buried the two main entrances to the Batcave, to let people think that his alter ego had died in the quake, so that he could be Batman without any inconvenient social entanglements. Perhaps one day he'd change his mind; but everyone he'd really cared about was gone, so it hadn't really mattered to him at the time.

"I thought I'd find you here." Batman didn't look up at the voice; he knew who it was. "You may kid yourself that you're paying your respects; but you're just punishing yourself again." The dark haired sixteen-year-old, dressed in black and dark crimson, came and stood beside him.

"I'd like to be alone right now, Robin." Batman said.

"Yeah, I know; I was just checking on you." Robin looked at his mentor from behind his black mask. "I'll leave you alone with your ghosts, when you feel like joining the land of the living again, Helena and I will be waiting for you back at the Cave." He turned to leave.

"Tim." Robin turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Batman turned to face the young man. "For coming when you did." Robin nodded, knowing that his mentor wasn't referring to tonight.

A year ago, he'd been walking through what was left of Wayne Manor, when he met Batman, doing pretty much the same thing. Tim Drake had been hoping that he'd run into the Dark Knight at some point, but he hadn't really been expecting to right then. Tim had told him that he knew his identity, and after a bit of talking; and a lot of convincing, Batman had agreed to train him and let him become Robin. It wasn't like Tim had anywhere else to go anyway, his father had died during the plague; while Tim was at boarding school, and his mother had died a few years before.

At the time, Batman had almost forgotten what it was like to be alive, he'd become reclusive, and maybe even a bit suicidal after loosing his family, and being able to talk to someone had helped him realize that there were things worth living for.

Eventually another Vigilante, the Huntress, joined them. She and Batman became lovers. Sometimes she teased him about her becoming the Batwoman; but he knew the question behind the joke. That was another reason that he was here tonight.

Tim was wrong; this time he wasn't punishing himself, he was trying to make a decision. He took the little velvet box out of his utility belt. He'd always known that eventually he'd have to "rejoin the land of the living" as Tim so often put it, what better way then as a husband?

He took off his mask, and turned to look at the shadowy remains of Gotham. In time they would build over the wreckage, and people would come and build lives there as well; that's just the way humans are; then the Batman would be needed again, and he'd be ready. Until then, he was just a boy struggling to live up a legend; he always had been. He needed to become his own man first.

Dick Grayson turned and left the shadows of the dead, to return to the arms of the woman that he loved, and the future shining brightly before him.



I've considered writing more stories in this timeline; however, that would take time and research, so you might have to wait a very long while as it's nowhere near the top of my priority list.


If anyone wants to know the rational behind this, write me and I'll be glad to tell you.