A/N: Thanks for the comments TMNTGFKittySidekick01, Blas and mystery guest!

Chapter 3:

The next evening:

"Your good behavior didn't last very long, Riddler," Batman stated as he snapped his Bat-cuffs around the wrists of the green-clad villain.

"You've solved all my riddles this time, Batman, but our battle has just begun!" The man started giggling hysterically as Chief O'Hara grabbed his arms and pulled him toward a squad car.

Batman turned around and strode to the Batmobile. Just before climbing in, he paused - something didn't feel right. He slowly looked around the area, studying the dark corners and carefully listening for anything unusual. Nothing seemed out of place and there were no shadows slinking around any buildings.

The Caped Crusader narrowed his eyes; Riddler had been caught but Penguin was still free. Perhaps one of that villain's henchmen was watching him. It was worth checking out so he shut the door of the Batmobile and walked toward the nearest building.

He was six yards away when he saw it, but only because it moved. The small silhouette had blended into the wall so well that even the World's Greatest Detective hadn't noticed it. The figure darted away into the darkness behind the building and Batman immediately decided to follow.

Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see the shadow already at the end of the block. So, Penguin had a henchman who could run. Batman increased his speed as the small figure turned the far corner. Four seconds later he was heading around the same corner. Something hard unexpectedly slammed into his chest and he heard a small but audible 'crack' as he stumbled back. The Caped Crusader uncharacteristically tripped on the edge of the sidewalk and fell to the ground.

There was a quiet gasp, a quickly whispered apology and the shadow was gone before Batman even had a chance to stand up. The hero's ribcage was already sore and he was astonished at both the force of the hit and the speed of the goon. Penguin had found a fairly impressive henchman.

Shaking his head, still in slight disbelief, Batman stood up and returned to the Batmobile. A thought strolled through his mind as something registered in his brain: the figure had apologized. A henchman wouldn't apologize for knocking down Batman!

The boy? But how could a boy be strong enough to crack a rib and push me back several feet with a single hit?

Batman pondered that thought for the duration of the drive to the Batcave. It wasn't possible; a child wouldn't be able to hit that hard. Impossible…right?


Robin had been following the giggling man for several blocks. He recognized that this person was a villain and he had never fought an actual villain before. However, he couldn't allow the guy to rob a bank! That's what he had heard upon accidentally discovering a hideout deep in the shadows of Crime Alley. The villain and his henchmen were going for the vaults with jewels and gold and money and other valuable things.

For a brief moment, the eleven-year-old pictured himself holding a stack of bills and using it to buy food or clothing. He was not, however, tempted to join in the robbery. It was his job to stop it, not encourage it.

There were loud noises up ahead – pain-filled yelps and the distinctive sound of flesh hitting flesh. Robin pushed himself against the wall and carefully slid toward the corner. He peered around the edge and stared in amazement at the scene before him.

Batman had already taken out two men and was fighting three more simultaneously! The leader, Robin heard the name Riddler, was circling around the fight, probably looking for a way to cheat. The young crime-fighter knew that from experience: criminals always cheat.

The Caped Crusader, that was a nickname Robin had heard just two days ago, was an incredible fighter. His fists flew fast and always hit exactly the right spot. He seemed to know when someone was about to attack from behind because he would whirl around at the perfect moment and block the strike.

How does he do that? I wish I was that good.

Batman's cape swished around, sometimes confusing the bad guys, and he often pulled small weapons from a belt around his waist. The yellow belt had pockets everywhere and Robin stared at the man in awe. So, this was what a real hero looked like – a full-fledged, fear-inducing, city-protecting hero.

All the men were on the ground now except the leader. Riddler advanced but was quickly taken care of by a blue-gloved fist punching him in the head. The sound of sirens filled the air and flashing lights entered the area. Batman was crouching over the green-clad villain, using his special cuffs to restrain the man.

Robin watched as the hero had a short conversation with the bad guy before striding to a vehicle that Robin hadn't even noticed. The boy's eyes widened: so that's what the Batmobile looked like up close!

The man paused and slowly looked around so Robin flattened himself against the wall and stopped breathing. Suddenly Batman was walking toward the boy's position. He couldn't let Batman find him so Robin turned and raced away without looking back. But the man was following him, the boy could hear the rhythmic pounding of boots landing on and taking off of cement. Not only was he following, he was running!

Increasing his speed, Robin decided that he had to stop Batman before escaping to his home. Nobody could find out where he lived, or how old he was, or what he looked like or…anything! He turned a corner, climbed on a conveniently located wooden crate and waited.

Four seconds later Batman came flying around the same corner. Robin jumped and thrust both feet into the man's chest. There was a 'crack' and Batman stumbled back then fell to the ground. The eleven-year-old gasped in dismay. The man wasn't supposed to get hurt!

"Sorry," Robin whispered before turning around and sprinting away again. One thought ran through his mind as he headed home: he had injured Batman!

Eleven minutes later he entered the broken door and collapsed on the old sleeping bag. He was exhausted and full of both regret and shame. It had been an idiotic decision, attacking Batman like that, and now the man probably thought he was a criminal.

There was nothing he could do about it now, however, so Robin laid down and immediately fell asleep.


The Batcave:

"Alfred!" Batman shouted as he climbed out of the Batmobile.

Glancing up from his position by the Bat-sound Analyzer, the ever-patient butler replied with his usual question.

"Is it absolutely necessary for you to yell every time you enter the Batcave, sir?"

And Batman, just as he did every time, ignored the question. He walked to the medical area, removing his cowl on the way, and opened the drawer containing the Bat-wrap.

"What happened, sir?" Alfred inquired, walking over with a frown on his face. At least his charge wasn't bloody or stumbling around.

"Just a cracked rib," came the reply.

"Just, sir?" the butler asked, the two words outlined with both amusement and relief.

"And it wasn't even Riddler or his henchmen that did it!" the Caped Crusader continued as he began wrapping his torso.

"Penguin?" Alfred sighed. "Or a henchman?"

"Neither, I think."

At that reply, Alfred raised his eyebrows quizzically. Batman didn't say anything so the butler took the lead.

"Then who, sir?"

"I think it might have been the kid that I told you about the other night."

"The one that knocked a man out with a flip, sir?"

Looking at his butler in mock exasperation, Batman replied, "What other kid would I say might have been able to crack my rib?"

Grinning slightly, Alfred acknowledged the comment with a courteous nod.

"Did you follow him, sir?"

"Yes, until he kicked me in the chest, cracked my rib and shoved me to the ground."

"What!" Alfred exclaimed. "He knocked you to the ground, Master Batman?!"

"He caught me by surprise," Batman replied defensively. "And the kick, or hit, or whatever it was, had a good amount of force behind it. Then he was gone before I stood up. Oh, and he apologized while I sat on the sidewalk catching my breath."

"He…apologized, sir?"

"It sounded like 'sorry' but maybe it was a hiss of displeasure. What was he doing in the center of Gotham City so late? Was he actually a part of Riddler's gang? He's a mystery, Alfred, one I need to solve."

"It is my opinion, sir, that he fights criminals, not joins them," Alfred stated firmly.

"Then why would he…?" The hero's eyes lit up in understanding. "He must have followed Riddler but I stopped them before he had the chance to do it himself."

Batman had finished wrapping his ribs and was now sitting at the Bat-computer. He typed "young crime-fighter" but received nothing in return. So he tried "young vigilante" and "crime-fighting child" but still received nothing.

"This is ridiculous," he murmured, frustration evident in his tone. "I need some piece of information for a starting point and I have nothing."

"Perhaps the World's Greatest Detective should find a starting point, then, sir."

Nodding, the hero stood and strode to the Current Criminal Activity Bat-disclosure Unit. He pushed several buttons and flipped a lever on the left side. There was a moment of silence followed by a series of short beeps.

"The Criminal Activity Bat-disclosure Unit, sir?" Alfred stated in slight disbelief.

"I don't have a Hero or Crime-Fighter unit, do I?" the Caped Crusader almost snapped at his butler. "If nothing shows up here, then I can assume that he is not a criminal. Or," he immediately changed his mind, "at least a non-threatening criminal."

A card exited the slot with one word: Penguin. Batman already knew that man was in town so he tossed the card into the trashcan next to the table. It had been a stretch, the kid had taken down a criminal the other night, but it was better than doing nothing.

Another card suddenly flew out of the machine and both men looked at each other in surprise. Batman picked it up, stared at it for a few seconds and then handed it to Alfred.

"It's blank, sir."

"The machine doesn't know his name?" the hero questioned. "So, he is a criminal?"

"I refuse to believe that, Master Batman," Alfred declared. "This card could mean any number of things, sir, and is not necessarily information about the child. Again, it is my opinion that he fights crime, sir."

"Hmmmm…" Batman murmured vaguely before tossing the card in the trashcan. He strode to his Bat-pole, lost in his thoughts. Just before flipping the Compressed Steam Batpole Lift lever, he glanced back at his butler.

"I hope your opinion is correct, Alfred. I don't look forward to sending a child to Arkham, even if he is a criminal."

Batman climbed on his cushion, flipped the lever and shot himself up to Wayne Manor. Alfred, shocked at the statement, didn't move.

"To Arkham, sir!" he whispered. "Surely the commissioner wouldn't be that cruel!"

Shaking his head, the butler walked toward the service elevator. Batman was always occupied with the latest schemes of various, dangerous villains. Maybe he, Alfred, should do a little digging himself.


Friday, March 26

Today sucks. I'm supposed to be quietly wandering around Crime Alley, gathering information about any criminal activity. Instead, I'm sitting here in an abandoned shack with rats for roommates. Crying is unacceptable; I'm not weak and they wouldn't want me wallowing in self-pity. But, it still sucks.

I feel so dark inside. My heart hurts, my bones are aching and I don't feel like doing anything. However, dad would tell me to 'get up and get moving' while mom would tell me to 'make the best of things'. I'm trying, and I'm fighting, but the only emotions I feel are anger and sadness. I don't even remember what it feels like to laugh anymore.

On a different note, I finally saw Batman in action! He made everything look so easy: the quick punches, the well-placed kicks and he had this awesome belt! It had a bunch of pockets and weapons and he took down six men by himself! I accidentally hurt him, he was following me and I can't let anyone discover me, so I…well, I attacked him. Stupid, I know, but at least he stopped chasing me.

Anyway, it's going to be completely dark in about an hour so this is the end for now. Maybe beating someone up will make it hurt less.


The Batcave - midnight:

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Batman is unavailable," Alfred stated after picking up the Batphone. At that exact moment, the Caped Crusader slid down his Bat-pole and landed on the cushion.

"One moment, sir," the butler amended before Commissioner Gordon even had a chance to respond.

"Yes, Commissioner?"

"It's Joker," Commissioner Gordon sighed on his end of the Batphone. "He's escaped and has already threatened a bomb. The call came from the docks on the west side of the city."

"I'm on my way, Commissioner." Batman hung up the phone and walked to the Batmobile.

"Already, sir?" Alfred asked, not knowing the report Batman had just received. The hero usually checked most of the Bat-machines for information before going out on patrol, which always took precisely twenty-two and a half minutes.

"It's Joker, Alfred, and he threatened a bomb by the docks. So, yes, I'm going now."

"Very well, sir. I'll have Bat-ice and Bat-wrap ready for you when you return."

The butler knew that Joker was tricky and volatile and wickedly intelligent. The villain always had some sort of trap waiting for the Caped Crusader and the hero had never been uninjured when he returned from an encounter with the Clown Prince of Crime.

"Thank you, Alfred," Batman stated, scowling at the comment even though he knew the supplies would be needed. Joker was the near-perfect example of a villainous Batman, his non-existent fighting skills being the major difference between the pair. He was also completely insane, making it difficult for the hero to predict what the villain was going to do.

Growling at the thought that he had a weakness, the Caped Crusader climbed into the Batmobile and roared away.


Thirty minutes later:

Batman could hear Joker's wild laughter, even from nearly fifty yards away. The hero was standing by the southern-most warehouse on the waterfront, watching the villain and his three henchmen unloading a truck at the other end of the row. In order to find out what they were carrying into that warehouse, he would have to get closer. But there was nowhere to hide along the way. It was one long building instead of many separate structures – completely different from every other warehouse district in Gotham City. There were no shadows to glide in and out of, no corners to peer around and no way to avoid being seen.

A sudden explosion rattled the wooden docks and made the building shudder. Small waves rushed over the banks of Gotham Harbor and Batman was tossed to the ground. An orange and pink cloud briefly danced overhead before drifting apart and fading away. The northern end of the long building had just been reduced to a massive pile of steel, cement and wood.

"Wooooo hahahahahaha! It works!" Joker exclaimed and Batman growled as he stood up. It had been a test and now both men knew that the villain's newest weapon was impressively dangerous.

Stealth didn't matter now, time was of the essence. Batman took off, sprinting toward Joker and his two henchmen who were now loading instead of unloading the truck. A thought zipped through his mind: hadn't there been three henchmen before?

Something crashed into the back of the Caped Crusader's head and he saw stars. Shaking away the bright flashes of light, Batman continued running. He had slowed down significantly, though, and the third henchman swung the short plank of wood again. This time Batman fell to the ground and stopped moving.

"Well, boys, let's get him in the box. No time like the present!" Joker whooped loudly while impatiently snapping his fingers at his goons.

Two of the men picked up the limp body of the Caped Crusader while the other one held open a small door on one side of a giant, cube-like structure. It was two stories tall, seven yards wide and three of the four side panels were made of strong, clear plastic. The fourth side, the top and the bottom were covered with bright, birthday-themed wrapping paper and there was a perfectly tied purple bow on top.

Grunting under the muscular weight of the hero, the two henchmen tossed him unceremoniously into the "present". The third goon closed the small exit and all three men sealed it tightly with packing tape that matched the wrapping paper. The villain walked up to the cube and began tapping loudly on the thick plastic.

"Batty Bat Batman!" he yelled. "Time to wakey-wakey!" There was no response and Joker frowned. He nodded to his henchmen and one of them pushed a neon-yellow button on the wrapped side of the box. Joker grabbed a small, purple microphone out of his jacket pocket and flipped up a neon-yellow lever near the bottom of the object.

"BATMAN! Wake up so we can play!"


"…can play!"

The screeching words echoed around his newest prison and Batman opened his eyes. He was lying on his stomach with his right cheek resting on what felt like cardboard. His head was already pounding and the amplified voice of Joker only increased the pain. There was darkness all around him but he could clearly see the villain and his goons in the muted, yellow glow of the warehouse lights.

Planting the palms of his hands on the ground, Batman pushed himself up to sitting and looked around. A brilliant light suddenly filled the box, causing the hero to squeeze his eyes shut and grab his aching head.

"Welcome, welcome, Bat-brain," Joker taunted and Batman reopened his eyes. "I have a special surprise for you. But first, I want…"

The villain trailed off and turned to his left. Batman watched the man's jaw drop open in shock and his eyes widen in what could only be described as amazement. Abruptly, Joker turned and fled to the pile of rubble just west of Batman's plastic-wrapped home. He hunched down in the darkness of the debris and stopped moving.

Batman had a clear view to the north, the south and the west. The eastern wall of his prison was the one covered in paper so he had no idea what had made Joker flee. He wasn't able to hear much through the heavy plastic but the Caped Crusader caught some scuffling sounds and quiet noises that sounded like yells. Something hit the covered wall and the box wobbled but quickly steadied.

Why was he just standing there? Batman jogged to the south end of the box, turned around and sprinted north. The entire weight of his body slammed into the plastic but it merely accepted the energy and used it to shove the hero back to the center of the prison. He tried it again, and again, but still nothing happened.

He realized it was virtually silent outside. There was no movement from anywhere that he could see. Turning his head over his left shoulder, Batman watched the evil eyes of Joker begin to twinkle with wicked delight.


Robin had already circled Crime Alley and was on his way toward Gotham Harbor. The gangster he had taken care of last week had mentioned something about a boat and weapons. The eleven-year-old had been to the waterfront every night since then and nothing had ever happened. Maybe it would be tonight; Robin really needed the distraction of a fight.

A cloud of orange burst into the air as a thundering noise shook the ground. The boy grinned – it looked like tonight was the night. He was thirty-two yards away from the last row of warehouses. The bomb originated there, he guessed, so he began running.

There was a loud 'smack' just before Robin rounded the corner at the southern end of the long building. He stopped short and pressed himself against the wall. Peering carefully around the edge, he watched two men carry a limp body toward a giant box that looked like a present. They must have tossed the person inside because thirty seconds later they walked into view empty-handed. Robin could see one man on the north side of the box, three standing closer to the east side and one shadow inside.

Indecision could kill a crime-fighter so, without hesitation, Robin started running along the edge of the building. His footsteps were nearly inaudible – being a small acrobat was very useful – and the men were focused on the box so he felt rather safe.

"…wake up so we can play!" an evil voice declared. It was accompanied by an even more evil-sounding chuckle that made Robin's blood run cold.

The next thing he heard was a loud cackle and it was followed by a brilliant light that illuminated the entire cube. He was still pressed against the wall and the position of the huge object didn't allow him to see who was inside but it didn't really matter. The other four men were obviously criminals so the one in the box was an innocent victim.

"I have a special surprise for you," the voice was continuing to speak but Robin ignored it. The three men on the east were standing in a line, looking bored and not paying attention to anything around them. The boy smirked; they were sitting ducks.

He lined up his shot, with his body as the weapon, and attacked. His initial back handspring plowed into the side of the first man, who bent over in pain. That allowed Robin to use the man like a vaulting table, pushing his hands off the large back and using all his momentum to slam his feet into the back of the head of the second man. Immediately twisting away from the falling body, Robin landed lightly on his feet behind the third man.

This man was, of course, the biggest one. Big, however, usually meant slow and Robin was confident that he could take this guy down. A huge fist was swinging toward his head. The young crime-fighter ducked and spun to his left as the goon's body followed the punch. Robin was behind the man again and he didn't waste time. The henchman was turning around when he felt a light patter on his back right before a small foot smashed into his chin. The big man watched blurry fireworks light up the sky as he dropped to his back and closed his eyes.

That move was a new one. After practicing on the tree over and over, Robin had decided to test it out. He ran up the man's back and threw himself into a backflip. His rotation was quick and he kicked out when he saw the man's head. The kick had connected and the boy was pleased with the result: instantaneous unconsciousness.

Landing lightly on his feet again, Robin stood up and glanced around. The fourth guy was nowhere to be seen so it was time to free the captive. He studied the east side of the box carefully. There was no discernable exit there so he stepped around the north corner.

Two sets of blue eyes, the younger pair a shade lighter than the older, connected and widened. Batman stared through the plastic, astonished at the boy's sudden appearance and obvious ability to take out three grown men. Robin briefly gazed at the man in awe before realizing that he needed to get the box open. His heart skipped a beat in excitement: he was about to rescue Batman!

Batman was suddenly pointing and yelling something. The plastic muffled the words and Robin shook his head, confusion on his face. He pushed his bare hands against the plastic, testing for weaknesses, but froze when he heard the evil voice from earlier.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Joker chuckled wickedly.

Slowly turning around, Robin clenched his hands into fists and his entire body tensed up. Joker stepped away from the debris of the building, holding a large chunk of wood over his shoulder like a baseball bat.

"Leave him alone, Joker, he's just a kid!" Batman yelled through the plastic. Neither the man nor the boy seemed to hear him so the hero began pounding on the wall of his prison.

The sound distracted Robin and he almost turned around. But the villain, because Robin knew that this guy had to be a villain, was advancing and he couldn't chance taking his eyes off the man.

"How old are you kid, eight?" Joker's evil voice became conversational as he attempted to cause the boy to let down his guard. There was no response and the man growled as he slowly ambled toward the large cube.

"Where are your manners?!" he exclaimed. "It's rude to ignore a question, especially when an adult is the one who asks! Respect your elders, didn't your parents teach you that? Where are your parents, by the way? Do they know you are out here, all alone, pretending to be some sort of crime-fighter?"

Tears welled up in his blue eyes but Robin refused to let them fall. Why, on this night of all nights, did he have to take on a man who decided to ask about his parents?

His hands were so tightly balled into fists that his knuckles were white. A shiver abruptly ran down his back and Robin suddenly felt slightly dizzy. He shook his head, saw double for a moment, then stepped back into a defensive stance.

"You look a little shaky, kid. Is my newest gas affecting you in some way?"

Gas? Robin glanced around in alarm. There was movement to his right and then the first man he had attacked walked in front of him. The guy had his right hand over his nose and mouth and was holding a smoking flower on the palm of his left. Robin instantly kicked the left hand with his right foot then jumped up, swung his left leg across his body and kicked the man on the side of his head. The flower blew away on a small gust of wind and the goon fell to the ground.

But the damage had been done. Robin's usually soft landing was replaced with a 'thud' as his body hit the ground. Everything was blurry, colors were blending together and there was a roaring sound in his ears. He was aware enough, however, to see the danger in the form of the approaching villain. Shaking his head to try to push away the cotton balls that had suddenly taken over his brain, Robin slowly stood up. The man was speaking but the boy could only hear his own breathing.

Batman! Robin suddenly remembered that Batman was trapped. How was he going to release Batman when he could barely stand? An idea skipped through his muddled mind and, since it was the only thing he could think of, he decided to do it.

Robin could see shapes but not objects. So, he was going to have to guess. The villain was only three yards away and Robin realized he would have to fight before he could try his plan. And he would have to fight well enough to give himself a small window of opportunity.