ION

Part 1: He (Present)

When the car finally pulled to a stop, he was just getting impatient. He had never been good at sitting still for long periods of time. The driver got out, the door slamming shut behind him as he headed off. With prone and sensitive ears, he listened as the driver began conversing with someone outside the car.

"Just a kid," the driver started, "Probably no older than fifteen, probably less. But he's got the lightest skin I done ever have seen and the brightest o' gold eyes. He doesn' seem ta be from Gotham."

"Good. Mont, you are slowly working your way outta debt. Only 'bout five more."

"Boss, I dun't think so." The driver, Mont apparently, had greed simply leaking off his tongue as he said this.

"Oh?" came the incredulous response.

"Yeh. I'd say this 'uns enough ta finish me off."

"Well, I don't think he'd be worth five times the average-"

"Jus' take a lookit him."

There was silence a long moment before, with a sigh, this "Boss" approached the car. He resisted flinching as the door near his head was pulled open, and appraising eyes surveyed him coldly. After a long and uncomfortable moment- at least for him- there came a loud and surprised sigh. "Well, you really outdid y'self, Mont. I think just maybe we could pardon y'now."

He couldn't see it, but he knew the smile on Mont's face was truly atrocious. "If there's extra?"

"We keep it."

"But-"

"Mont, you get your life and out of debt. That's all I am gonna offer."

Mont grumbled. "Fine. But…" his voice softened, it sounded almost… concerned. "I dunno what it is, but this kid… just, go easy on 'im? Got it?"

The Boss hesitated. "Not m'choice, Mont, but I'll try. Now, package 'im up."

He flinched as someone leaned over him, nearly growling as the person, Mont, grabbed his wrists and stuck them in cuffs, following suit with his ankles. Mont then dragged him out, holding him bridal style as he strained to keep his eyes closed and not attack… or kill… anyone. Mont set him in something soft but small, and with a click, he knew he was alone.

Eyes flashing open, he found himself in a frighteningly small space. It wasn't all uncomfortable, but movement was for naught. He did not like small spaces, trying to calm himself by breathing. Breathing always reminded him of what it was like to be alive. And that settled his panic. Usually.

The crate rocked beneath him, settling back after a moment. An engine then revved, and forward the whole world seemed to move. He did not know where he was going, all he knew was he needed to be ready to help whoever was there.

Part 2: Alfred (Past)

It all started a long, long time ago.

Over a decade. Fifteen years ago, on April First. My Master, the Famous Bruce Wayne, had decided to give up a night of his dark crusade to put on a face for the press, taking none other than the famous Vicky Vale to further place his innocent story.

He took her to Haley's Circus, which had arrived in town just the day before. Master Bruce had spent a few moments there the night before in cape and cowl, and I do believe he had even smiled when the boy had looked to him, thanking him for protecting his family.

Master Bruce was never the lightest child. Even before it happened, he was different. Almost manic. Blood had never phased him. Even before the age of six he'd seen a fair part of his own, spending long days in the woods and coming back triumphant yet battered. After it happened, any light that was in him departed. I tried to help, but I was not enough. I am surprised to yet this day he had not completely crossed the line. He was a strong child, strong man. Even with the anger, lust, and hatred in his heart, he still did not succumb. But he did not let go.

Then that night. They fell. In his head, he watched it, playing over and over again. Two bangs and two thuds. Then feet running. He was Batman. He should have saved them. Simultaneously crashing to the ground. Simultaneously the crack of necks and the gun. Simultaneously the cry of an eight year old billionaire and and an eight year old Gypsy, crying to the world. Asking why, just why?!

Simultaneously, the pain of the world, settling upon two, now four, innocent shoulders, drooping under weight they were to small to bear. Numb blue eyes staring bloodshot and unresponsive at their whole world- broken and bloody. Two cries for their mothers, four little hands pushing on her chest. To raven-haired heads bowing into the neck that was suppose to be their cradle, telling them it would be okay. Two tongues, stuttering as the blood of their parents washed over them, everywhere.

The same thing. Two different people.

IT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN- NOT AGAIN.

NOT AGAIN!

Bruce may as well have been in as much shock as Master Richard himself.

The whole world. Falling over and over on them, beating them down to the dirt.

Bruce came home ruffled that night- no, an absolute mess. I didn't ask what happened. I hadn't seen him like that for years. I must teach you all something.

The eyes.

All my Masters wonder my trick, and the answer is simple. If there is any goodness in a person, their eyes will be an open book. Just read them. And this expression? These eyes? I had only once before seen them. Nearly twenty-five years ago.

Part 3: Waynes (Present)

Now, Tim would say he was no genius, but that was not entirely true. He had the IQ to contradict himself there. Regardless, he was not an idiot. Bruce Wayne was Batman. And Bruce Wayne aka Batman was in denial.

Denial.

Really.

Denial.

"I know you're Batman!" he tried again. Mr. Wayne just stared down his perfect nose incredulously.

"Timothy, I have not a clue what you are talking about." His voice was not soft. It was cold. Like a wall. Tim hated walls. They got in the way of hack- eh-hem. Walking. Yes. Walking. "But I do know such nonsense will not be allowed in my home."

"But you-" Tim sputtered. "I SAW you go into the Batcave! I-"

"You really are a dim child, aren't you? Go to your room. Now."

"But-"

Any patience left in his guardian's eyes departed completely as the man grabbed Tim's wrist in a painfully tight grip, yanking them until they were nose to nose. His breath was minty and sharp as he stared directly into Tim's eyes. "You will go to your room. If I ever hear a breath from you that I think has to do with this, I will punish you."

Tim stumbled as Bruce pushed him back, turning. Tim watched with huge blue eyes as the man walked away. He didn't understand. He… he never… When he was little, he'd met Dick Grayson. He'd asked Dick if Bruce was really a bad dad. Dick had laughed, turning to him with those eyes. Tim would never forget what he said.

"Well, Timmy, Bruce may be a wee crazy but he's almost as smart as you, and he's got a special mancave downstairs. If you ever get the chance to see, I suggest you tell him: 'I need justice!' And from then on? You've got the best, strongest, most amazing Dad in the whole wide world!" the wink he'd then given before wandering off with the Commissioner's daughter was enough to tell Tim that not only was his hunch right about Batman, but also that Dick- Robin- was happy he knew. He had almost felt like he had a family.

He didn't know what happened. This was not the Bruce Tim had heard about. Not the man who he had dreamed he could meet for so long. Choking, Tim stumbled upstairs to his room, closing the door and collapsing. From under his pillow he pulled out a brown leather-bound book. He knew he ought not have it. He knew that if Bruce caught him, he would be dead meat. But something about the words held in loopy cursive soothed the aches of his day.

September 6, 14 years old

Wow! Today was a real long day! Just like every day, but who am I to talk? I'm just so glad to be alive sometimes! This morning, I woke up at three am. Another nightmare. But I'll put that in my dream journal.

I still ache sometimes, but for the most part, most of the scars from Two-Face are gone. But he still lingers in my dreams. Strangely, it's never me being beaten, but Jaybird. It hurts so much. I always wake up crying. I know I'm kind of weak, but no one can hurt my brother. It's just… Jay is so important to me. He's been hurt so much, and I never want to see him even sad again.

I went outside, but I had to be careful not to wake Bruce. He gave me the room he had when he was a kid, which is right across the hall from his and right by Jay's. Jay and I share a bathroom, so I had to use the one downstairs. But that's okay. It was raining outside.

I love the rain so much. It's my favorite place to be. I always remember what my mother used to tell me: "And, when we realize the world is so much bigger than us. And the rainbow promisiuni, el este real, o mai bună atunci când există Mâine este atât de mult mai mult decât noi." It always makes me happy to feel all the little angel tears all over.

I just sat outside in my pajamas. I kinda lost track of time, I was watching the sun rise from the roof of the barn. I hadn't realized how panicked Bruce would be until suddenly he was crushing me. Apparently, Jay had had a nightmare too and had wanted to sleep with me, but when he couldn't find me, he went to Bruce and the two had been looking since FOUR AM. They'd been looking for FOUR hours.

School was pretty chill, but Jason nearly got expelled again. This time Bruce sweet-talked out of it with a bit of green sticking out if his pockets, but I swear, sooner or later it will be a better investment to just buy Gotham Academy.

When I got home from school, there was some blonde chic at our door. When I asked who she was, she threw a tantrum and told me to mind my own business. Turns out, she was going to try and talk to Bruce. I think Jay let her in. I mean, I KNOW Alfred wouldn't and Jay was at home grounded. The lady's name was Camile Shrei. Crazy lady. Freaked me out.

Alfred made shrimp for dinner- but Jason hates shrimp. He tried to feed it Ace under the table, but despite Batman being oblivious, Batler was no such thing. Usually I would have laughed, but Jason's punishment is that he has to make dinner tomorrow. That's a punishment to us all…. Except Alfred who I just KNOW survives off of tea.

Patrol was pretty calm, just the usual about. Except egg-cracking-Penguin-butting CAMILE SHREI just so HAPPENED need to be saved from a GANG selling weed-based LIP GLOSS. I mean- what the flying flamingoes?! What is WRONG with this lady?! And after I saved her- she tried to get me to go HOME with her- she kept flirting… gagagagagagaaGAAAAG. Lucky for her Bat!Daddy wasn't there, or she may not have gotten out with just some time in jail for buying weed. Still disturbed. I tried confiding in Jason but he just laughed his head off. He told me Gotham street girls are CRAZY and that he was four the first time someone flirted with him. THAT IS SO MESSED UP. But he said it was okay because he just pick- pocketed her and left her with a rat named Cupid who somehow always returned to the alley between McDonalds and Kitty Ko..

Well, it's real late and tomorrow I promised Wally and Roy I would help them hack the school system to erase their tarty days. It's not their fault they were saving the city.

Goooodniggght!

I'm thankful for….

Jason

Bed

Pillow

Sleep

Alfred

By the time he was done, Tim had to keep himself from laughing. Dick had been an awesome person. He eventually quieted enough to sober. Through this journal, he felt like he really knew his would-have-been brother. If only…

"I see you really enjoy that."

Tim shrieked, throwing the book in the air and whirling violently with his eyes wide. "A-Alfred!"

The butler waltzed in the room, bending down. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Plus," he sighed, straightening. "It's what Master Richard would have wanted. I have something for you, if you promise not to tell Master Bruce."

Still startled and unsettled, Tim nodded nervously. Out of seemingly thin air, Alfred handed him a huge stack of books with two neatly wrapped parcels on top. "There you are. Remember, Master Dick… he… he would have adored you."

After Alfred left, Tim silently ventured over to look at the stack. He read the books' covers first. Ten in total, five were journals- surprisingly, two of which were Jason's. Three of the others were logs, including files on villains. The other two were on criminology and advanced hacking. Tim's hands were shaking by the time he got to the parcels. He opened the one with a one on it first.

As soon as the brown paper was pulled back, Tim's heart literally froze. At least, that's what it felt like. Inside sat a uniform. Red with a yellow and black cloak. His fingers ran over the stylized R, eyes on the verge of tears. Behind the uniform was a utility belt and a t-shirt. Holding the t-shirt up, he found it was a soft fossil blue, worn to the point of feeling impossibly soft. A white stencil showed silhouettes of trapeze artists with the title beneath: "The Flying Graysons." A letter fell out as the fabric unfurled, and in haste, Tim pulled the obviously old paper open.

The handwriting was large and sloppy to start, seemingly a young child's handwriting.

Hullo. I am Dick Grayson. Recently I became Robin. I know I coold die at any time. I know if I die, Bruce wil bee very, very hurt. Bruce mite not know it yet, but he NEEDS a Robin to be his lite. Alfred and I talked about this, and he helped me make this. I'm not grate at Inglish yet, but Alfie sayd he'd help me rite this. I'm trieing my best, thoe. In anee case, I need whoever Alf givs this to to know. You r now Robin. Loloduianchir, in Romany, my Muther Tung. You R now the lite to Batman's darknes. Plese.

The handwriting was now much more elegant, and startlingly familiar.

I'm back again. Wow, I had BAD handwriting! And spelling! Anyway, to the point.

I… I know I can't live forever. Being Robin is dangerous. So I want to leave this. Jason, you, I want you to be Robin. You're the only one who can. You NEED to be Bruce's light. If I die, Bruce will be even worse than he was before me. You need to stop him from crossing the line. Please. Jason. You are my brother. You always were. And I need you. If I die…. I'm so, so sorry. But if I do, please. For me, protect Bruce? Become Robin. Oh, and, uh, I'm patient. Don't make a rush to join me. Jason, Alfred will only give this to you if I die. So, if you're reading this, I love you so much, baby bro. But now, I must say da Devlesa,

You are now Robin.

Tim's breath caught in his throat. He was no Jason, so why did Alfred give this to him? With tears, he opened parcel number two. He once again froze upon seeing a uniform very similar to the first with a few changes. Again, underneath was a yellow utility belt and a t-shirt. This shirt was red and plain with the exception of small black letters reading "I'm a Survivor." Tim slid his hand in the fabric, finding once again a carefully folded piece of paper. He opened it, taking a deep breath before jumping in.

Alfred sayz this is wat Dick did wen he became Robin, so… so… despite the hurt, I will to.

Dick died just a couple months ago, but I now he would want me to take his mantle. I… I want to just see him again. I used to want to be Robin. Now I just want Dick back. In any case, Im not talking to Dick. Im talking to YOU.

Yeah. YOU.

If Alfred gave this to you, I know you are the 1. Bruce is probably a total Joker-butt to you, because if you get this, it means both Dick and me are… gone. But we new the risks. So yeah. We trust Alfie to choose the correct person. Whoever you are, you are… your…

The next Robin.

Tim's hands shook, his eyes frozen on the words. "You're the next Robin."

Please. This job is so much more important that just helping people. Your primary job is not to save others, but save Bruce. Because both Dick and me new that Bruce really didn't need much help out there. Your job? To be his light. The one that can smile. Because if Bruce ever loses sight… then he will never come back. And Gotham NEEDS a Batman- but not one just as insane as the fows he locks up. So… I, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne, now officially hand you the title, the mantle, the gift and the burden of… of…

Robin.

Hello! Nothing to say but I do appreciate faves, follows, and reviews! Thanks all you amazing readers! Byyyye!

~Universe