~Chapter 2~

~The immortal child~

Batman walked in to the cave and placed the box on the table. He sighed and looked around. He had decided to drive to the auxiliary cave instead of the main one. Something in his gut told him that the main cave was not the best place for these items.

"Dick? Are you here?"

"I'm always here Bruce…I never get to leave; not anymore." Blue eyes peered from the darkness. "Why are you here? You rarely come to visit."

"I have some things you might want to see."

"Oh? That's interesting."

.o. Past .o.

Batman looked down at the limp body before him. He had failed; failed so horribly he just couldn't face it. Pulling the sheet over the boy's face he walked away to go tell Commissioner Gordon the bad news. The car ride was quick and soon the two were standing on top of the police station.

Jim nodded sadly looked down at the city. "It's a real shame. Any idea who it is?"

Batman shook his head. "Not yet, I'm looking now. I'll let you know."

"Ok, I've got some of the goons in custody asking why they were trying to bury him in the first place. So far they're all playing dumb saying they just were digging didn't even know the kid was there."

"Interesting." Batman frowned. "I think if it hasn't been cleaned up I'll check out where we found him; might be some clues."

"I hope you're-" Gordon looked around and found himself alone. "Right."

.o.

Batman was halfway to the asylum when Alfred called.

~Uh, master Bruce.~

"Yes, Alfred?"

~You might want to come home, immediately. It's the boy.~

"Alfred, I know he's dead, I couldn't save him. I failed. I'm trying to find his next of kin now."

~No, that's not the problem master Bruce, the problem is he's not dead and is very scared and is asking for you.~

Batman slammed on the brakes hard enough to almost stand the Batmobile on its nose. "What?"

~Just what I said sir, the boy he's alive, and is asking for you…. he also seems to quiet enjoy chocolate milk. Please get home soon sir; we're running out of milk.~

.o. Present .o.

Dick walked out of the shadows in his usual calm collected demeanor and eyed the box. "And here I thought Christmas was next month. What's in the box?"

Bruce pulled his cowl off. "Artifacts from Arkham Asylum; I was wondering if you recognized anything."

"Do you really think any of this would make me remember?" Dick looked up at Bruce; his young face unchanged from the day Bruce had found him in the rotting coffin. He opened the box and pulled out a silver bell. "And that I want to remember." He pulled out a book and there was recognition in his eyes. "Mother kept a diary that looked a lot like this…she used to draw pictures on some of the pages." Dick suddenly shook his head and put the book down. "This is a bunch of junk. Doesn't mean anything!"

He quickly disappeared into the darkness leaving Bruce with his thoughts. He picked up the book and opened it to a random page with an illustration on one page. It was of a boy lying in a coffin arms crossed. He read the passage on the opposite page.

Today I buried my youngest son. The sickness took him so fast we couldn't even call for the doctor. I am heart broken that I must bid goodbye to my dear Richard. I take comfort that he is now in the arms of the lord just like all those others taken by the sickness. Gareth had us burry my child where the front steps of our home will be. There have been grave robbings as of late and he does not want our son to be a victim twice. I miss him so much; my heart aches just thinking of my poor suffering in his last moments.

Bruce looked out into the darkness. "You're mother mourned you."

Dick materialized next to the batcomputer. "If they mourned me why was I under those stairs?"

"To keep grave robbers from taking your body. They felt you would be at peace there. They didn't know-"

"Of course they didn't know." Dick scoffed showing off his sharp teeth. "If they had I would have been impaled or burned or something."

"Your mom mentions something called the 'sickness' does that mean anything to you?"

Dick looked away.

"It does doesn't it? You're remembering things aren't you? Richard Gary Arkham if you remember something, you need to tell me!"

Dick raised any eyebrow. "Do I?"

.o. Past .o.

Batman ran into the medical bay to find the boy sitting on the table drinking a cup of chocolate milk. There were cups littered around him and Alfred was standing a yard or so off. The older man's face lit up when he saw Bruce. "Thank goodness you're here Master Bruce, this child… Well I can't explain it really; just came down and he was sitting crying and the bullet hole was gone!"

Batman looked over the child in shock. "It is gone." He paused. "Why is he drinking chocolate milk? And why does it seem he's had a lot of it?"

"Because the young boy had had about ten glasses of the stuff and doesn't seem all that found to solid foods sir…or water for that matter."

The boy looked up at Batman and smiled showing off elongated canine teeth. "This is good! But I'm still thirsty."