Your Cheatin' Heart

Chapter Four

DISCLAIMER: (All that is heard are loud sobs, which plainly tells the reader that The Almighty Panamint is not so fortunate as to own Batman and Robin. But if she did... ;D)

Hello, people! XD This chapter is going to be kind of long to a) make up for the last really short one, and b) today is July 17, 2005, the three-year anniversary of the first day that I ever saw Batman. (grins uncontrollably) Imagine, I was just innocently channel surfing when I came upon this wonderful (yes, wonderful) show. If it hadn't been for West and Ward, I wouldn't be here typing, because there is no way on this earth that I would have gained an interest in Batman without them. EVER. Yay! (dances)

July came, then August. The wedding was scheduled for December—a Christmas wedding. That was Tracie's idea, and I kind of liked it. Maybe it was just because my parents had had a Christmas wedding as well, but I still liked it very much.

"You'll be here for Christmas, though, right?" I had asked cautiously.

"Of course!" Tracie responded. "We wouldn't dream of spending Christmas without our own son!"

She had given me another little kiss, and I wondered why I had ever doubted her integrity in the first place.

The next day, I was rather crudely remembered of these doubts. I'll never forget it.

It started when I decided to go out for a short ride—Rainforest needed the exercise. The way the house was set up, I had to go by Tracie's room to get outside. Just as I was about to pass without stopping, I realized I could hear voices from inside. It sounded like one of those catfights you always see on TV. I froze just outside the door at the sound of Tracie's voice. She seemed upset:

"Oh, I'm getting so tired of doing this!" Tracie cried passionately. I could hear her stamping a foot in childish annoyance. "I'm tired of the killing and the robbing and the dishonesty…"

"Where is your sense of criminal pride?" huffed a female I didn't recognize. "Where is your sense of fun and adventure?"

"Fun? Adventure? June, really!"

June? I thought Tracie said her sister had died…

"Yes, fun and adventure! And you used to think it was fun, too!"

There was a silence between the two women. I squirmed uncomfortably, not liking what I was hearing.

"Look, I'll make you a deal," said June at last. "This will be our last job. After all, with the money we get off this loser, we could have more than enough to live off of for the rest of our lives!"

"He's not a loser, he's a wonderful man!" Tracie snapped. "In fact, if I could, I would marry him!"

"Tracie!"

"Well, I would! But… alright. I'll—I'll do it, but then that's it. Do you understand me, June? That's it!"

"All I understand is his money, sister. As long as you get him to ride over to Seagull Rock Friday morning so I can shoot him, I don't care."

"Why Friday? Why not tomorrow?"

"You know I always do my best work on Fridays. Which means you've got tonight and tomorrow to think of a way to get him there. Or else."

I heard Tracie opening her bedroom window. Chancing a peek, I saw that she had opened it so that a brown-haired woman could climb out onto the nearby tree limb and get to the ground.

I still couldn't believe this was happening, although—from past experience—I should have guessed something like this would happen.

But… now how was I going to tell Bruce? He'd been happier those past two months than I'd seen him in all six years of my life here. How could I possibly tell him that his fiancée was a scheming little gold digger? Not exactly an inviting notion.

I crept quietly down the hall back to my own room and shut the door soundlessly behind me, feeling sick. There had to be something I could do to make this easier. There had to be a loophole somewhere in this disaster. Only, what was it? What was the loophole?

I spent the night tossing and turning, not even trying to go to sleep. Well, except for that one time around midnight, but I woke up about twenty minutes later after a horrible nightmare about Bruce getting shot off his horse, just like the Silvers sisters planned. And even after I woke up, the images kept flashing through my mind, over and over again, making it impossible to sleep.

By morning, the only idea that had presented itself was the one that Bruce would never believe me if I told him the truth about his fiancée. Heck, I barely believed it myself. Tracie had seemed so kind and loving… just the kind of person my mentor needed.

Why did everything always have to go wrong for him, anyway? First his parents, then Selina and now Tracie. What did he ever do to anybody else? Well, except to the people who had it coming to them in the first place. But wasn't it about time that the world threw something good his way? He certainly deserves it. He deserves a good life.

I headed down to the kitchen for breakfast that day, only to find that Alfred and I were all alone in the house. I asked where Bruce and Tracie were, hoping with all my might that Alfred wouldn't notice the hesitation in my voice as I voiced her name aloud.

"I believe they went out to the stables earlier this morning, Master Dick."

"Before breakfast?"

"They skipped breakfast this morning." The disapproval was evident in the "butler's" tone. "And you, young sir, are not about to do the same thing."

"Sure… I'll be right back…"

Before Alfred could protest, I walked hastily out the door. Maybe, if I was lucky enough, the two of them would be back by now. I really needed to talk to Bruce, to warn him.

I stuck my head in the door. There were Bruce and Tracie, unsaddling their horses. The urge to storm in there and take her over my knee was quite strong, but that wouldn't do much good, now would it? And besides, if I did, I'd probably end up over Bruce's knee next. I've been there—not fun.

"…Bruce? Can I talk to you?" I said instead.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Alone?"

If it's possible to look confused without moving a muscle, Bruce did it. Nevertheless, he turned to the plainly-bemused Tracie and said that he'd meet her inside. They kissed, making me feel even sicker than before, and she headed into the house.

"Alright, Dick, what is it?" he asked. "You feel okay? Your face is still kind of pale."

"Um, I'm fine." Not. "It's just that… well…"

How do you like that? I hadn't even said anything yet and I was already having second thoughts about this. What was I supposed to do, tell him his girlfriend was a killer? Yeah, that shows you how much of a brain I've got. You'd think I would have learned something from my five years as a crime-fighter.

So I wound up just muttering "Never mind" and leaving the stables with my head down and my hands in my pockets.

After breakfast, I went up to my room to think. No ideas came, so after lunch, I spent the next few hours sitting on the rocks near the house that jutted out into open ocean. I called them the Sunset Rocks, because you got such a good view of the sunset from out there.

It was nice out on the rocks, listening to the sea gulls crying and the waves lapping against the shore. A strong, salty sea breeze picked up, waving my hair around, making me glad that Alfred wasn't there to see how badly I needed a haircut. Although I think I heard him muttering something about Davy Jones look-alikes a couple of days ago…

…A couple of days ago, everything had been perfect. Tracie and I had even gone surfing that day. I had been so surprised when I saw what a great surfer she was—she even gave me a couple of pointers. But now I could barely even stand to look at her.

The sound of laughter interrupted my rather depressing thoughts. I turned to see Bruce and Tracie walking along the beach. True, she was the one doing most of the laughing, but Bruce looked as if a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, too.

I gazed at them wistfully before going back to staring into the sunset. What was there left to do? I couldn't tell him, and Bruce would be killed tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning and June would kill my mentor… and my father.

Finally, just before Alfred called me in for dinner, I realized what I had to do. I had found my loophole. I just wished it involved me getting back to Wayne Manor safe and sound. But that was impossible—everything else had failed.

Nobody would ever know. And then Bruce and Tracie could get married, June would have her money and everybody would be happy. Sure, Bruce wouldn't be exactly thrilled with the loss of the money in his wall safe, but at least he'd have Tracie. Yup, my plan was foolproof. I'd taken everything into account and everything would work out just fine. Except for me, but I'd be dead. So did it really matter?

I couldn't bring myself to eat much at dinner (so much for 'the condemned will eat a hearty meal'.) And when Tracie asked what was wrong, I nearly lost my temper and spilled her secret right there. But I didn't. See, Bruce? I can hold my tongue. When it counts.

—

Just after dinner, Bruce sent me up to my room to do a little studying so that I wouldn't forget everything by the time September rolled around. Although I went up, I had much more important things to do than worry about algebra homework. And so, being very careful not to make any noise, I opened my bedroom window and used the rain gutter to help myself get to the ground without breaking anything (including me). Then I headed off to the cliffs. June had to be hiding around there somewhere. If I could just find her, maybe I could strike a deal with her. The way I intended.

I began my search near the cliffs by the ocean. It seemed like as a good a place as any for a criminal to hide out. And believe me—I know criminals.

"Well, hello there."

I whipped around and saw a dark-haired young woman in jeans and a nearly see-through shirt. I could feel my face heating up and tried not to stare. Not because of the shirt, but because I recognized the brunette as Tracie's supposedly dead sister June.

"You're a little young to be out alone so late, aren't you?" she asked. "What are you, twelve? Thirteen, maybe?"

Oh, brother, I thought, more than a little insulted. Try fifteen, lady.

Somehow, I managed to look her straight in the eye and say darkly, "I know who you are. And I know you're here to kill my father. Don't bother trying to deny it, either—I saw you talking with Tracie this afternoon."

Her smile faltered.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here to make sure you get away with it. In a different way."

June gave me a look. Suspicion was evident in her hazel eyes and I wondered whether she would even let me explain or if she'd just kill me instead.

"Follow me," she said.

So I did. Probably not the most intelligent thing to do, but I didn't feel as if I really had a choice.

She led me away from the shore and towards a small rock overhang jutting out from the cliff. Underneath the overhang was what appeared to be a shadow. It turned out to be a small cave instead. June headed inside and I continued to follow her.

It was quite a well-furnished little place. A cot was in the corner and there was evidence of a recently-extinguished fire in the middle. Cooking utensils hung from nails on the wall. Clothes lay folded under them and a small supply of food was stashed nearby. It was one of the best hide-outs I'd ever seen—not at all high-tech, but very secluded and well-stocked, too. It also creeped the heck out of me, which helped to give it a high rating on my 'Best Hide-Out' list.

"Now why are you going to help me kill Wayne? You just called him your father, even if he isn't, so you apparently think pretty highly of him."

Had I really said that? Oops. Must have been a slip on my part. And I have to admit, it's not the first time that it's happened. Usually I call him that when I'm scared, which I definitely was then. I've really got to knock it off. It's embarrassing.

"I don't want you to kill him," I answered. "That's why I'm here."

"You aren't making any sense. Better start making some or I'll do away with you right here and now."

"That was my intention."

June blinked. She obviously hadn't been prepared for that answer. I couldn't help but smirk grimly at her reaction. I felt very much like the Batman as I did so.

"I want you to kill me," I continued. "Do whatever you want with me… just don't hurt Bruce."

June began circling me like a vulture.

"You know, I just don't get your kind," she said, folding her hands behind her back and continuing her vulture-like march. "So caring, so emotional. Just like that sister of mine up at the house. Tell me: are all people with baby-blue eyes so willing to give their lives for their families?"

She held my chin in her hands to gaze into my very blue eyes. I just stood there as she stared at me, determined not to do anything that would ruin my plans.

June snickered slightly and let go of me.

"Ya know, Blue Eyes," she continued. "You really are a good-looking kid. Are you sure you want to do this? I'm sure a lot of pretty girls will be very disappointed."

"I didn't come here to discuss myself." Besides that, I didn't have a girlfriend. "Now is it a deal or not?"

The woman snickered again, crossed her arms and ran her tongue over her upper teeth. I was so worried that she'd say no and kill the both of us. Or maybe she'd say yes and then kill Bruce anyway. But I'd have to trust her, no matter what she said. I didn't like that feeling. At all.

"Okay, Blue Eyes, okay," June announced. "Be at Seagull Rock at six tomorrow morning. Then, while they're all at your funeral, we'll take the money and scram."

"Without hurting Bruce."

"Sure, Blue Eyes. Whatever you say."

She held out a slender hand for me to shake. I couldn't believe I was about to make a deal with a no-good murderer like June Silvers—it might as well have been the devil himself as far as I was concerned. But if it had come to striking a bargain with Satan to save Bruce's life, I would have done that, too. And so, I placed my own hand in June's larger one and shook it.

It was done.

Me: Yeah... hehe... I suppose Dick could have just gotten into his Robin costume and exposed Tracie and June that way or whatever, but that's not as much fun. Let's just say that he wasn't thinking straight at the time.

Dick: (sourly) You're a fine one to talk about not thinking straight! And where did that 'the condemned will eat a hearty meal' bit come from anyway? You don't read THAT much.

Me: I just finished The Picture of Dorian Gray, didn't I?

Dick: Only because you had to for English! Now where did it come from?

Me: Uh... Gilligan's Island?

Dick: Case closed.

Me: I know something else I'd like closed: your mouth!

Reviewer Replies

lizaln-Okay, well, we just started the emotional torture. The physical stuff is coming up pretty soon (as you can imagine). Thanks for reviewing, and have a great vacation!

Alexnandru Van Gordon-Oh, no. Nobody gets killed here, not even the villains. Although I'd kind of like to kill Panamint once in a while... ah-hem... and yes, Bruce does have bad luck with women, doesn't he? ;-)

Amaran Barrantes-Wait no longer! Here it is! Glad you like Panamint's stories.

Me: Oh, yeah, and where I mentioned Selina (Kyle), I was referring to something that I referred to in my other ficcie "Misfit", but please don't read that one. I just reread it myself and realized how terrible it was: I literally cringed at certain parts. Can't believe I posted it...

Dick: Finally, you're coming to your senses!

Me: Do you want more Robin-torture in this fic? Cuz you're askin' for it, dude...