Robin watched with a frown mixed with mild admiration Batman fight about thirty men alone.
The Caped Crusader ordered him to step aside and that he alone would take care of them. He was on the verge of protesting but when the other half of the Dynamic Duo stared at him intently, with those menacing white eyes, Robin reluctantly dropped his protest.
Now he understood why his partner wanted to fight alone.
Batman was pouring out his anger on those idiots.
His usual grace and flexibility was accompanied by frightening minimal lethal blows that were meant to really hurt the criminals.
Robin was slightly startled that that was only the minimum lethal force. He would never have wanted to see his mentor operate at his full capacity.
Seeing him fight, however, he had to admit to himself, was something awesome.
Batman would punch and kick hard a couple of criminals at a time before disappearing into the shadows only to suddenly reappear with a few acrobatic moves and begin this sort of routine again.
Often he could hear the breaking of a few bones.
In not even four minutes about thirty men were scattered on the floor, all groaning in pain.
Robin watched from above a beam as the policemen entered the warehouse and noticed the "carnage."
Gordon looked at Batman as the latter spoke in a monotone voice. "All of them belonging to a gang of criminals with many crimes on their hands."
"You did it all by yourself?" the commissioner asked in amazement, and the vigilante nodded. "You could have gone a little slower." he gasped at the look he received from the hero.
Apparently that look was not taken well by the other cops who pointed their guns at Gotham's protector. "Keep your hands in the air where we can see them!" shouted one of them.
Gordon stood to reprimand them when Batman beat him to it. "Or what? Are you going to arrest me?" there was a subtle note of veiled sarcasm in his words that only Gordon and Robin could notice.
The policeman swallowed, no longer as confident as before, and nodded.
Batman took a menacing step toward them as he squinted dangerously white eyes at them, sending shivers of fear through them. "Listen well, because I'm not going to repeat this a second time. I am in more than a foul mood and if any of you say another such idiocy I will personally send you to the hospital. Do I make myself clear?" he asked in a low voice and in a dark, threatening tone.
Neither Robin nor Gordon could tell if the Dark Knight's threat was real or not.
They all nodded in fright and the next second Batman had disappeared into the darkness.
Gordon sighed and looked at his colleagues with a hard stare. "We should talk."
The policeman who had spoken sighed.
He knew he had to become a garbage man and not a policeman.
Batman waited patiently for Robin to join him, and when he did a few seconds later, he spoke. "Robin, I want you to continue the patrol without me for a brief moment. I need to do something alone."
"I thought there were no secrets in this partnership." declared the Boy Wonder frowning as he crossed his arms.
"Please, Damian, this is something I have to get out of my own way." he implored in Dick Grayson's voice and no longer Batman's.
Damian was surprised.
He had never seen his older brother beg like that, never seen him so broken.
But he was more than justified.
It had only been a few days since Bruce Wayne's funeral and everyone, including himself, was still in shock.
He absentmindedly wondered if they would ever get over Bruce Wayne's death.
Perhaps whatever Grayson had to do alone would help.
With a reluctant sigh he nodded, earning a slight smile from Batman, who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Besides, I trust you, Robin." and with that he fired the grappling hook toward his destination.
A small smile made its way onto Robin's features. "And for that I cannot thank you enough, Grayson." he whispered softly.
Christopher McCauley sighed heavily as he was escorted back to his cell by the policeman on guard duty.
Not only was he in jail, but that Bat had somehow been found!
All his efforts were in vain!
What a lousy life he was living.
He was tediously passing his time in his cell when a sudden chill ran through his whole body. He made to turn around but, before he could do so, a hand grabbed him by the hair and made his head slam painfully against the wall.
He saw there not double but triple.
The only thing he was able to notice because of his severely stunned state was an imposing black figure.
The other thing he knew was a fist connecting with his jaw followed first by a knee to the ribs and then a kick to the shoulder, shattering it.
He made to scream in pain but a gloved hand covered his mouth.
He caught sight of two white eyes that promised only one thing.
Revenge.
The next second the dark figure's head slammed into his, painfully breaking his nose. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his orange prison suit and slammed him with his back to the bars.
A gloved hand came up and encircled his throat, beginning to strangle him.
Christopher began to try to wriggle free but the hand clamped tighter around his neck, eliciting moans of pain from the lack of oxygen and the pain in his back as the pressure against the bars had increased.
He literally began to see stars and, just after his thought Oh God! I'm dying! the hand left his neck and he greedily sucked in as much oxygen as he could.
His moment of salvation did not last long.
Two circular kicks in succession brutally broke the kneecaps of both his knees and he fell to the floor, his scream of pain being muffled by the dirt floor.
Next a knee landed on his back, just above his spine.
"I will cause you so much pain that you will beg for mercy. You will beg for death. But I will not kill you. I want to see you suffer the most. And I will make sure that you will remember this moment for the rest of your lousy life." a low and menacing voice, accompanied by a deep growl, resounded near his left ear.
The next second a sharp pain erupted from his back and he screamed so loudly that he feared his vocal cords might be damaged.
But that was the least of his problems.
Tears came out of his eyes and fell to the floor.
He felt no sensation in his back except extreme pain.
Before he even had a chance to beg for mercy, the figure grabbed his right arm and, with a smooth move, broke it and did the same with his left arm.
"I am your worst nightmare. The one you will see every time you close your eyes. I will never leave you. I will haunt you. Forever."
The figure snapped every single finger of both his hands, ignoring his moans and gasps of pain.
He spun Christopher around and he found himself on his stomach, looking directly at white demonic eyes reflecting menacingly in the darkness.
"Remember the pain you are experiencing. Remember it, because it is likely that I may return another day."
With a series of precise punches the monster painfully broke the bones in his legs.
"Remember me. I will be present in every single of your nightmares. You will no longer distinguish between nightmare and reality. You will jolt awake every single night and look at your whole cell with fear-filled eyes. But you will never notice me. Because I am one with the shadows. I hide in the darkness. I will always be beside you and you will never know."
His head was lifted and slammed violently on the floor, and unconsciousness enveloped him.
Before he fainted he faintly heard the last words of... that demon or whatever it was.
"Watch your back from now on."
Dick looked indifferently at the news.
He had taken a morning off from his new job while his siblings were at school.
Dinah, on the other hand, was out for a job interview as a voice teacher at a private school there in Gotham.
"A Gotham Prison inmate, Christopher McCauley, was found brutally beaten in his holding cell. He was rushed to the hospital for surgery and was released a few hours ago.
"Apparently, his spine has been permanently damaged and he will no longer be able to walk. In addition, multiple serious fractures were reported throughout his body. The healing process, excluding his now permanent immobility, ranges from six months to more than a year. Many bones were broken brutally and it will take time for them to regenerate.
"Mr. McCauley is also in a state of shock and was in danger of dying from a heart attack if it were not for the doctors. Detective Bullock said that in addition to physical damage, his mental state must also be examined since he may be damaged because of the perpetrator who reduced him to such a state.
"He will probably suffer from psychological trauma that he is unlikely to overcome, judging by the behavior he has developed.
"The police are looking for the person responsible. The cameras surprisingly were not hacked but still did not capture anything or anyone except Mr. McCauley's screams of pain.
"As can be deduced, the person responsible-" reporter Vicky Vale's voice interrupted when Dick turned off the television.
"I suppose you will hunt down the aforementioned 'responsible,' Master Dick." Alfred said, raising an eyebrow at his first grandson.
Dick noticed a trace of irony in the British butler's voice and turned his gaze to meet Alfred's. He studied him for a few seconds before sighing. "You don't miss anything, Alfie."
The edge of Alfred's lip lifted slightly in a small smile. "Indeed, Master Dick." a few seconds of silence passed. "I read that gloved hand marks were found on Mr. McCauley's neck in an attempted strangulation." he commented casually.
Richard looked away. "I wanted to kill him." he whispered softly. "But something held me back."
"Something?"
"Batman does not kill." said the last Flying Grayson after seconds of tense silence. "But I... I wanted to kill him more than I wanted dead with my own hands Zucco. I nearly killed him and have no regrets. Bruce would have been so ashamed of me. God, he would be ashamed and disappointed even if he saw the state I reduced him!" he buried his head in his hands as his body was marked by some involuntary tremors.
Alfred reached him and placed a comforting hand on the younger man's back. "Master Bruce could never be ashamed because of you, Master Dick." he said softly.
Dick looked up to observe the figure of his grandfather with sad and empty blue eyes that threatened to make more tears overflow. "How can you say that?"
"Because I seriously doubt Master Bruce would have been able to control himself in reverse, Master Dick. He loved you and will love you forever, remember that, young master." he spoke comfortingly,
Alfred saw a faint light make its way into those blue eyes that brought such happiness to the manor for the first time in years. That light, though still faint, contrasted with the emptiness in his eyes present only moments before.
Perhaps we would get through this terrible tragedy. All of us together.
"Thank you Alfie." he turned a smile in full regalia to the older man.
That was the first and true smile Alfred had seen on Richard's face since the day of the funeral.
Yes, I do think that will be the case.
Rest in peace, Master Bruce.
Wherever you are, my son.