All in all, Dick Grayson had done extremely well – not that any less was ever expected from him. His plan, which was simple, clever and easily adaptable, would have worked if Cook had been honest. But, of course, Dick had known better than expect Cook to be honest, so it would have worked even better with the betrayal. In fact, the only reason it hadn't worked was because the Penguin thought to bring transmission scramblers with protective casing.
It still would work, of course, just not quite as Dick had planed it.
During the attack, Dick did everything he could have. He sensed the danger before it truly manifested itself, and put up a good fight. If he'd had his Robin suit on, he could have easily ended the fight moments after he started it, but Dick was no fool. Any normal kid would run, and, trying to prove he was a normal kid, that's what he did. Even through the tear gas, he managed to run, and he almost made it. Again, had he been Robin, his mask would have protected his eyes, and he would have been able to pull a gas mask off of his belt and continue the fight.
Perhaps what had happened inside the car was the most impressive. While most boys his age would be helpless after prolonged exposure to tear gas and several blows to the head, not to mention having his hands cuffed behind his back, Dick was still able to plan and execute a surprise attack focused on the greatest threat – the Penguin's umbrella. He had no way of knowing that Cobblepot had wired the umbrella to conduct a near lethal voltage of electricity at the flip of a switch. Robin's gloves were made of non-conductive, heat resistant material. He wouldn't have even felt it. Dick Grayson, by comparison, had a bad second degree burn on the palm of his right hand and was probably slipping into shock. Still, it took more to make Dick weak and disoriented than most people could have survived. And to add insult to severe and unjust injury, the Penguin's henchmen, Marcus Tripp and Nathaniel Estada (A.K.A. Hawk and Falcon), made no attempt to be gentle with their wounded hostage. They'd pay for that.
But first things were first.
"So, ah," Cook said nervously as he approached the Penguin. "When am I gonna get my money?"
"When I get Robin," The Penguin answered cagily.
"You got 'im," Cook said. "I practically gift wrapped him!"
"I have a young man of approximately the right age and build who is from Gotham and now lives in San Francisco."
"Did you see the way he fought?! He has to be Robin."
"I saw an athletic young man fight for his life," the Penguin said. "However, I have fought the boy wonder before, and I assure you, he is not as easily subdued as our young Grayson."
"So, how will you know if he's really Robin?"
"I'll know when he gives me Batman," The Penguin said with a wicked chuckle.
"You want me, Penguin," a dark voice said from the depths of the shadows. "I'm right here."
Behind them, the scramblers casing cracked loudly and sparks showered out of the van.
"Dude," Cook gasped, dropping the backpack full of counterfeits – a sign he was truly frightened. "What the hell . . ."
A second later, the Dark Knight swooped upon them.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"He's back!" Cyborg practically yelled.
"Where?" Starfire asked, anxiously looking around. She fully expected Dick Grayson to walk around the corner, whole, unharmed, and laughing at them for losing track of him.
"He's on Russian Hill." Cyborg said.
"Is that far?" the fifth Titan asked.
"No, but on these city streets . . ." Cyborg started.
"We'll have to fly," Raven said.
"How?"
"I got Cyborg," Beast Boy said, screeching as he turned into a giant Pteranodon. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and lifted him up. A black disk formed next to Raven.
"Get on," she ordered, and was obeyed.
"Titans Go!" Cyborg yelled, and they flew off. Starfire trailed behind. She didn't want to, she wanted to lead the charge, but it was very hard to feel the boundless joy of flight when she was so very worried.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dick felt cold. He was going into shock. If he tried hard enough, he'd be able to make it go away. It started by focusing on his breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, deeply and steadily. In out. In out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
Don't close your eyes! Dick thought, taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes open. Don't lose consciousness; don't become helpless.
They'd carried him to a small, upstairs bathroom, and thrown him in the old claw-footed tub. Hawk was sitting on the toilet and Falcon was leaning in the frame of the room's only door. They talked casually about the Gotham Knights playoff chances that year and worked their way through large cigars, using the sink as an ashtray. As the smoke wafted down, Dick couldn't help but breathe it in. He started coughing. The thugs looked at him annoyed, but didn't put out their stogies.
He had to bide his time, Dick told himself, regain his strength, stay alert, look for opportunities. He had to find a way to get out, or, at least break the scramblers and bring the Titan's crashing in. Maybe he could find a phone and dial 911. Maybe he could find a way to signal the neighbors or people passing by on the street. If he could just keep control of his mind and body . . .
It was getting colder. He was trembling, and he couldn't stop. Every once and a while, a leg or an arm would spasm painfully. He was coughing uncontrollably, and each time it hurt more. He was losing control, becoming helpless, and he couldn't stop that either.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"There!" Cyborg yelled, pointing down at a four-story Victorian row house. "He's in there!"
The Titans landed and, without wasting a second on planning or strategy, ran up to the door. Raven's magic tore open the decorative iron gate in front of the door, which Starfire blasted open with her starbeams. They burst into the house and found it dark and empty.
"What do we do now?" Beast Boy asked.
"Split up," Cyborg said. "BB and Ro–" he was interrupted by the chirping of their communicators.
"Perhaps this is Dick Grayson!" Starfire said excitedly, reaching for her communicator.
"He didn't take one," Raven said.
"Then who?" Beast Boy asked.
"Only one way to find out," Cyborg said. "I'll answer, you guys, keep a sharp eye out." He lifted his arm and opened the communications link. He was shocked by what he saw."
"Cyborg," Batman said. Somehow, he managed to be intimidating even through a comm channel. "I'm glad you're here."
"How did you . . .?" Cyborg started.
"On your right is a door that leads to the garage." Batman said, not bothering to acknowledge Cyborg's dumbfounded question. "Meet me there." And he ended his transmission.
"Who was that?" Starfire asked.
"It was the Batman," Cyborg answered. "He wants us to go through this door."
"He what?" Beast Boy asked as Cyborg walked over to the heavy oak door to the right of the entryway. "How does he even know where we are?"
"Because he's here too," Raven said. "And he's been waiting for us."
"Then Dick Grayson is saved?" Starfire asked, her voice was teetering on the edge of joy.
"Only one way to find out," Cyborg said, opening the door.
The garage was dark; the only light came from a small bulb hanging from the ceiling on the other side of the large black van. Still, the figure of the Dark Knight was a swatch of pure black in the gray shadows. He was standing in front of two men, whom he had tied securely in ropes. He looked something like a spider examining the fly's he'd caught in his web.
"Look, I had to, all right!" Cook sobbed. "A guy's gotta eat!"
"Lucky for you, prison serves three meals a day."
"If I'd only had a job . . ."
"Maybe if you'd tried to help Michael O'Lancy, you wouldn't be unemployed."
"Who's Michael O'Lancy?"
"The four-year-old you let drown."
"It's not my job to interfere!"
"It is your job to be a human being," Batman said. "And you didn't pass your last review." Without turning away from his two hostages, Batman called; "Robin, Titans, come in."
Nervously, all five Titans came in. No one bothered to mention that they didn't really have Robin. No one was quite brave enough to correct the Batman.
"No!" Cook gasped, when he saw the young masked man in the red vest and black and yellow cape. "He, he can't . . ."
Batman smiled; the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "Robin, come here."
The boy in the mask obeyed. Batman turned to look at him as if addressing this boy was the most natural thing in the world, as if he'd done it every day for years and years and they were so close that speaking was, to a point, superfluous. He did speak, however. "This is the man that threatened Grayson?"
"Yeah," the Robin said, nodding coolly. "We tried to track him, but . . ."
"They had scramblers," Batman said, nodding to the ruins of the equipment in the van.
"Where's Grayson?" the Robin asked.
"Upstairs," Batman said. "I'll see to him. You, Cyborg and Beast Boy stay here and keep an eye on the fouls."
"You got it boss," the Robin said coolly, nodding to Cyborg and Beast Boy to join them in the garage.
"Excuse me, Mr. scary, shadowy, The Batman," Starfire said meekly. "But what are Raven and I to do?"
"Follow me," he said, walking past the girls and back into the house. Raven followed without hesitation. Starfire whimpered softly as he walked past her and looked towards the boys.
"Go on," the Robin said supportively. "He's the good guy."
She nodded. Swallowing her fear and building up her courage, turned and followed.
"This is all your fault, Cook," The Penguin muttered once Batman was gone. "If you had not lead me astray I would be back in Gotham right now, making money hand over feather at my nightclub, instead of tied up in a garage and being guarded by prepubescent fledglings!"
"But . . ." Cook started.
"The bird you tampered me with was nothing but a decoy. You can be sure you will pay dearly for this humiliation."
"No," Cook said loudly, "You can't! I mean, he can't really be Robin. Dick Grayson is Robin, and Dick Grayson is . . . ."
"Is not Robin," the Robin interrupted coolly. "I'm sure Batman will bring him down in a second so you can both get a good, front row seat to see us co-exist."
"You know what I think?" Cook asked. "I think he freed you, and then came in here and got us, while you changed and called your friends, and then you came in and now he's just pretending to free Grayson!"
"Beast Boy," the Robin said.
Beast Boy, who was a huge green tiger at the moment, turned and looked at the Robin.
"If either of them talks any more, you have my permission to maul them."
The tiger purred and an expression that looked like a smile spread across his deadly jaw.
Batman paused at the foot of the stairs. "There are two guards," he told them in a harsh whisper. "I'll take them out. Don't move until I tell you."
"Shall I provide us with light?" Starfire asked softly as she looked up at the darkness that seemed to be creeping down the stairway.
"No," he answered. "And don't make a sound."
Batman walked up the dark staircase silently. Raven followed, levitating. Starfire flew behind them, trying to be as silent as possible. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure the dark and frightening Batman would hear it and scold her, perhaps by turning into a gigantic red-eyed, black-skinned demon that would attack them like a Dormovian Mud Gollog, or perhaps he would simply abandon them, alone and unaided in the dark, scary stairway, to face whatever monsters where holding Richard Grayson hostage.
They crept silently up two flights of stairs. As they reached the third floor, Starfire could hear voices. Two men were talking about a grand slam which led to nights running home and slidings that were called safes. Starfire wondered if it was some sort of code. She could also hear someone coughing weakly.
They walked onto the third floor hallway, and saw a light coming from a door at the end of it. The shadow of one of the men was cast on the wall. He looked big. Starfire was about to ask if they ought to attack when Batman held his hand out, clearly signaling that they should stay put. He continued forward, approaching the light cautiously as if he expected it to burn him. Then, when he was at the edges of the light, he reached over to the man leaning in the doorway and, with a quick and effortless movement, he hit the man, knocking him out and sending him crashing to the floor. Another large man jumped out of the light at the Batman, who dodged a punch before slicing his assailant neatly on the collarbone. The second man hit the floor harder than the first.
The sudden, unpredictable violence started Starfire, and she wanted to scream, but before that impulse fully manifested itself, the action was over and two men lay unconscious at the Batman's feet. "He is frightening," Starfire whispered in Raven's ear.
"He's powerful," Raven answered quietly. "But he wouldn't hurt us."
"How do you . . ." she started, but was silenced when he turned to look at them.
"Come here," he ordered.
Raven obeyed without hesitation, Starfire approached more slowly.
"He's in the bathtub," Batman said as Raven reached the door.
"Richard Grayson is in that room?!" Starfire asked anxiously, conquering her fear of the Batman and stepping forward. "Is he well? May I see him?
"He's injured," Batman said flatly.
"Injured!" Starfire said. "Please, Mr. the Batman, may I go to him?"
Turning to Raven, he continued. "He was exposed to tear gas, received several blows on the head, and was electrocuted. He's probably going into shock and his right hand is badly burned. Do what you can."
Raven nodded, turned, and walked into the room. Batman followed. Star felt overwhelmed. She was afraid to follow them into the lit room, where she had not been invited. But she was also afraid to stay in the hall, with the darkness and unconscious men. Most off all, she was afraid that, if she didn't see Richard Grayson soon, she would never see him again, as if every second that passed stole him further and further away.
"Please," she begged softly. "Let me see Richard Grayson."
Batman paused at the door, turned and looked at her. "You can come in," he told her.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, approaching the door. Her concern for Dick overcame her fear of the Batman, as she took her place next to him and watched.
Dick was hunched in the bathtub, coughing and shaking. His beautiful sky-blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused and the whites were bright red while his skin was ashen gray.
"I didn't know you were co—" he coughed, "coming." He said, looking at the Batman. Even thought he was damaged and weak and his voice was horse and laced with pain, he wasn't afraid of the powerful shadow.
"Dick," Raven said walking closer to him. "I want you to look in my eyes."
"All right," he said.
She knelt down in front of the bathtub so they were eye to eye, reached over and her hand on his chest. He continued to cough as a soft white glow spread from Raven's hand across his body.
"Azarath metrion zynthos," Raven muttered as soon as the simmer covered Dick from head to toe. The boy gasped and convulsed as the light flashed, momentarily blinding Starfire. She blinked, and when she could see again she saw Raven, leaning against the edge of the bathtub, panting, and Dick, looking much better, hovering over her with concern.
"Raven," he said gently. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," the girl gasped. "You, on the other hand, were not doing well."
"Thank you," he said genuinely as he took her arms and helped her stand up.
Had they been alone, this would have been the moment Starfire rushed forward and enveloped Richard Grayson in an adoring hug. She wanted to touch him, feel that he was, indeed, solid and real. All the fear and suspense seemed to be broken, suddenly, in that flash of light, and she wanted to cry for joy. But they were not alone. The dark, heavy presences of Batman kept Starfire's more joyful instincts in check. She dared not move without his permission.
"Starfire," the Batman said. "Help Raven out into the hall and contact the police."
"But, what . . ." Starfire started, glancing at Richard Grayson.
Batman turned to look at her. Even though most of his face was covered with a mask, he still managed to glare at her with a frightening intensity. She understood that he did not want to answer questions, he just wanted to be obeyed, and he had very little tolerance for those who would second guess him. Starfire, however, had reached the point at which she no longer cared. She needed to know that Richard Grayson would be all right, even if that meant a confrontation with the huge shadow before her.
"What will you do with Richard Grayson?" she continued forcefully.
Batman continued to stare at her. She was not sure, and she doubted it very much, but she thought she saw a smile twitch on the corner of his mouth for just a second.
"Star . . ." Dick started.
She turned to look at him, continuing her argument. "He is frightening, and can hurt people too quickly, with no noise and no way to fight back. I do not want to leave you with him now that you finally are safe."
"Star, it's ok," Dick assured her. "He won't hurt us. I'm not afraid of him, and you don't have to be either."
Starfire wanted to protest; how could anyone who was so dark and menacing be good? She turned quickly to look at the Batman. If there had been a smile, it was gone now. His gaze was, once again, steady and disapproving. But he seemed content to let them work this out on their own. She suddenly realized that, if she refused to leave, he would not force her. He would disappear into the shadows and, whatever business he had wanted to conduct with Richard Grayson, who was really Robin, his sidekick and protégé, would be left undone. "Raven and I will leave," Starfire told the Dark Knight. "And contact the police."
He didn't answer, which she didn't really expect him to. Instead, she walked over to Raven, and put her weakened friend's arm over her shoulder. For a second, her eyes met Richard Grayson's sparkling blue eyes, and she could see thank you written in them with perfect clarity. She led Raven out of the room, and back into the dark hallway where the two men still lay unconscious.
"Do you think these men will be all right?" she asked with a hushed voice.
"I'm sure they will be," Raven said as she eased herself to the ground and folded her legs to begin a quick, regenerating mediation. "The Batman doesn't kill."
"Then, perhaps we should bind them, somehow," Starfire continued. "In case they wake up."
"I don't think we need to worry about that either," Raven said as her body slowly rose about a foot off the ground. "Just call the cops."
"I will," Starfire said, opening her communicator and setting it to the special police band line. "Hello," she said, once the other line had been opened. "This is Starfire of the Teen Titans and I wish to report a kidnapping we have discovered."
"You took out the scramblers," Dick said, before Batman could start his berating. "You brought the Titans here. You saved me."
"You would have saved yourself," Batman said, "eventually."
"Right," Dick nodded. "Between my inability to breathe or control my muscles, I'm sure it was just a matter of time."
"You were ambushed."
"I knew I was going to be," Dick said. "It's no excuse."
Batman didn't respond. Instead, he said, "Speedy's a little tall to be Robin, even if he is wearing a very convincing wig. And a voice comparison would unveil the truth."
"We thought about using a hologram," Dick said. "Cyborg could have projected it. But there were too many variables. We needed someone who could react naturally to any situation."
"So, he knows who you are."
"He had to."
"My next conversation with Green Arrow should be interesting."
"He won't tell," Dick said, looking the Batman in the eyes for the first time. "None of them ever would."
"That doesn't matter," the Batman said. His tone was as hard and heavy as a rock, it would have been pointless to argue.
There was a long, cold, stretch of silence. Finally, Dick said; "So, are you going to order me back to Gotham?"
"Would you come if I did?" the Batman asked.
Dick didn't answer; he didn't know how too. He hated submitting to Bruce's unreasonable, and even his reasonable, orders on principal, but it had never really occurred to him that he would, or could, directly disobey one. Even if Batman ordered him back to Gotham, it would be perfectly legitimate for him to stay. He was doing a lot of good in San Francisco. He was making a real difference, the kind he couldn't make in Gotham, because in Gotham he was always in Batman's shadow. Without him, the Titans would be disorganized at best, perhaps even useless, and the city would be left vulnerable. The Hive, or some other villains, could make their move, and there would be no one with the strength to protect the city. It would, in many ways, be irresponsible for him to go back to Gotham just because Bruce was on one of his controlling power trips and wanted everyone and everything under his thumb. But then, as much as he wanted and needed to be his own person, he also wanted and needed to have Batman and Bruce's approval. Maybe, someday, Dick would feel strong enough, confident enough, righteous enough, to go against an order, but today wasn't that day. Even though the very thought of it graded against his sprit, making him even more angry and disappointed with himself, the fact was, if he was ordered, he would go.
But it didn't come to that. It was almost as if Batman could sense the struggle going on inside his young protégé, and wanted to spare the boy, who'd already gone though so much that night, another humiliation. "Would you come if I asked you?"
Dick met the Batman's masked eyes, "If you asked me?"
"Raven's healing powers are good, but they're not perfect. You're still weak."
Dick didn't bother to ask how Batman knew the intricacies of his friends powers, it only mattered that he was right. Though the young man could stand, think clearly and breathe without coughing, he still felt weak and unsteady, breathing hurt, his eyes stung, and the flesh on his right hand was raw and sensitive.
"You should see a doctor," Batman continued. "One you can trust."
"Yeah," Dick said noncommittally.
"And you need rest."
"I don't need anyone to take care of me."
"If I thought you did, I'd suggest you stay here," Batman countered. "Starfire looked more then willing to be your nursemaid. Alfred, on the other hand . . . "
Dick laughed softly. As always, Bruce was right. If he'd felt any stronger, or wanted anything more than lying on his soft four-post bed in Wayne manor with the guarantee of eggs made just the way he liked them and freshly squeezed orange juice for breakfast, he probably would have been annoyed. But at the moment, he was glad the world as he knew it hadn't really changed, and that he had a home to go to when he needed one. "I'll come."
For the second time, a smile almost found its way onto the Batman's lips. But when he spoke his voice as cool and detached as ever. "When the police get here, you'll have to go with them. Bruce Wayne will arrange to have you escorted to the airport from the station and you'll take the first available flight to Gotham."
"Sure," Dick said.
"Alfred will pick you up and take you straight to Leslie."
"It'll be nice to see her."
"I'm sure she'll say the same about you," Batman said as sirens started wailing in the distance. "That would be the police. You need to get down stairs."
"And you need to disappear," Dick said, climbing carefully out of the tub. His head swam whenever he moved it, but that was infinity better than the explosive pain that had filled it earlier. "I guess I'll see you in the morning."
"Maybe we'll have breakfast together," Batman said, "if you're not too tired."
"That sounds good," Dick said, smiling at the thought of breakfast with Bruce. Alfred would serve them, pretending they were just lazy aristocrats and hadn't earned their keep with a night of crime-fighting, while the two vigilantes discussed the night in suggestive hints and innuendos, trying to make the proper butler drop his immaculate façade. Alfred played very well, usually commenting on the occurrences of the last night in vague allusions that could be interpreted quite placidly, if you didn't know he was saying them tongue-in-cheek, but Bruce almost always won their little game, making Alfred gasp or click his tongue in reproof and betray that they had risked their lives the night before, and were lucky to be eating breakfast at all.
"See you in Gotham, then," Dick said as he carefully climbed out of the tub. He made a point not to look at Bruce as he sunk into his dark shadows, and walked out of the bathroom without saying Goodbye; he knew how much Batman hated that word.
THE END
Note: Thanks everybody for reading and reviewing. There will an epilog to tie up some loose ends, but there won't be a sequel, so don't even ask. But thanks again – I hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed the reviews.