Chapter three

Down in the cave Tim set the tablet aside and logged into his computer work station. He was alone, Alfred being upstairs both to make a meal for the lone hero and to make sure Bruce kept his promise to stick to bed. Tim had taken all of the possible electronics out of Bruce's room, but was fully aware that he was up against Batman. Bruce knew his ways now, knew how to hide from him.

However he felt sure that Bruce would keep his promise and actually rest this night at least.

So Tim gave a little glance around himself to be sure no one was watching and then accessed the recording he had made the night before of the mysterious stranger. He was already aware of the Black Mask situation and since he would not go out on Patrol until after dinner he decided to work on that personalities identity. But he didn't want Bruce to be apart of this one. It must be his first, completely solo case.

Regrettable as Bruce's injuries were Tim knew this would allow him to open the case and continue it without interference. So he sat back and watched the tape, carefully focusing on the voice, running it through voice recognition software. Four partial matches came up. Tim leaned back, silent, grave.

He focused on the features that could be made out through the ski mask, the eyes and part of the mouth. Through computer imaging he was able to get a possible idea of what the face looked like. Carefully he saved all his work and encrypted it, then filed it into his personal file in the database. After a full two hours of this work he stood up and left the room, heading to the memorial room.

He stood there for a long time in silence, until he heard Alfred calling him for supper. Starved after the poor school lunch he ran upstairs. Bruce wanted him to eat supper with him and they were going to watch part of the most recent BBC Sherlock.

Bruce had been moved back into his bed, but was propped up with pillows. He looked annoyed that he was not allowed out of bed and Tim flopped into the chair where Alfred was condescendingly setting up a TV table with the warning eyebrow raise that promised this was to be a rare occasion. Bruce turned on the TV, but neither of them really watched the show. They highly enjoyed it, sometimes laughing when Sherlock's exuberance reminded them of Dick, though Dick was by no means arrogant.

However, tonight Bruce was more weary than he wanted to let on and Tim had a lot to think about.

"So your parents are still home? I thought they had a trip planned." Bruce commented after a few minutes of silence beyond their enjoyable meal of potato soup and warm bread. Tim chewed his mouthful a bit longer than necessary to give him time to think of an appropriate answer.

"Dad is upset about something at Drake Industries. I think they are postponing the trip."

"Perhaps we should lessen your patrols, give you time to be with them." Bruce said. Tim considered the question, fully aware that Bruce was trying to determine if Tim would gain anything by his parents presence. With Dick and Jason it had been different, they had been his sons. He had much less affect in Tim's life, and had more than once agreed with Alfred's disapproval of the neglectful Drake parents.

"If they stay it might be nice to have a little more time. I think Dad wants to… work at it a bit more." Tim answered, ignoring the bruise on his back. "He was asking about my reading this morning."

It was never put into plain words that his mentor and fellow soldiers believed his parents to be neglectful. Tim didn't know if he really believed they were right. Bruce and Dick's parents had been extraordinary. He thought they just believed all parents should be that way. Based on Tim's observations he believed his parents were more the norm.

After the delicious meal Tim saw his mentor agree to a bit of pain relief and then left him for the cave to suit up for the night. He returned to the computer to set up a few things for the night and headed for the car bay where he had his own motorcycle. This being one of the illegal things Robin did, since Tim was underage. Oracle checked in with him.

"Dick's busy on a Bludhaven case, but said he'll answer if you call. He also said Good Luck." She reported.

Tim blushed. "Thanks. I can do this."

"No one doubts that. Alright. Keep a channel free. I won't hover, I promise." Oracle replied. "Just remember, call back up if you need it."

"Yes ma'am." Tim signed off.

He put on his helmet and waved to Alfred who had come to see him off and issue a parting dictum to be careful. Master Bruce would likely not rest until Patrol was safely over with. Tim swore to use his not inconsiderable mind to the best of his ability. Then he raced up the incline to the secret exit far behind Wayne Manor.

Due to being on his own he had rearranged patrol to cover only the most needful parts, and had, without consulting Bruce, asked Spoiler and Batgirl to take a certain part. It was an unspoken rule that Robin was always the second in command, and that only Nightwing could usurp that place, or only Oracle could ignore that. The girls had enjoyed the thought of working together. Spoiler was eager to learn fighting skills from Batgirl, while Batgirl was hopeful to learn more words, of which the Spoiler had many.

The riffraff of Gotham was obliging enough to give him situations that he could easily handle, several muggings, a poorly thought out kidnapping, a domestic battery case in the park.

As Gotham settled into night however Tim finished the patrol and headed for Black Mask's territory to begin his investigation into a link to the arms dealing they had struck a major blow to the night before. He had planned to avoid confrontation, doing his work as a spy, planting bugs and generally being the fly on the wall. Black Mask was not unaware of Batman's methods and had more guards than a crime boss who did not know those methods for entering. However, where Batman might not fit, the slender, slightly underweight Robin could squeeze through. Air ducts being a ridiculous notion due to the noise they made, Robin crept in by ways of the garage underneath the supposed Kane Insurance building that Black Mask was utilizing.

So far no certain link had connected the Kane family to the Black Mask. Once past the perimeter with the help of the elevator shaft Tim's going was easier. This late at night it was suspicious for such a business to be open and so only interior rooms were used and lit. Robin had hacked into the security cameras and used that to help mask his way. Since Black Mask was present the motion sensors were turned off to avoid having the police accidentally summoned by a false alarm.

It took Tim an hour to bug the rooms he had determined belonged to the individuals who might have something to do with the arms dealing and to go through what papers he could find. He downloaded information from those computers. Having wrapped his prey up in a web of listening devices Robin departed the way he had entered, none being the wiser for it.

None except for the masked man waiting by Robin's well hidden bike.

"Alone tonight, little brat?" The man mocked.

Tonight the man had changed his black ski mask for a red one. His leather gloves had also changed to red. This evolution to the color of blood alarmed Tim. His own suit was red and black, but the black hid the red. Here the red was flaunted. And there were now two guns holstered at his side, as well as any number of knives.

"You've followed me most of the night. I think I don't need to answer that question." Tim answered, as he wondered how much to ask, how much he suspected could be real.

"I thought you never saw me."

"Well, I figured you had your reasons, that had nothing to do with Black Mask. No doubt you used my control of the cameras to do your own reconnaissance." Robin answered, stepping up the bike as if to get on, but more to put it between himself and his stalker.

"So you think I'm one of you?" The red hooded man laughed. Robin did not answer, looking at the man's build. Too much of him was concealed to give Robin much knowledge. Tim did not know how much this stalker knew, but the fact that he was being so bold made him wonder if the man knew much about Tim. He could not know, for instance, that Tim had figured out Batman's identity on his own. Because if he had known that he would have approached the boy more cautiously.

So unless he was trying to make Tim suspicious, he wouldn't be acting this way. So Brash, and Angry, and so Hurt.

"You don't have anything to say?" The man asked.

"I think," Robin began and then hesitated. "I think you don't know yet if you want to be one of us."

The man took a step back, surprise and fury in his mien. "What little you know."

"You don't know me." Tim answered. "I'm smarter than you apparently think. I've drawn my conclusions. But I will promise you this much. Until I am convinced in my own mind, my theory remains with me. Not even Batman will know."

"And how, bird boy, are you supposed to prove your theories? Your little tracer is at the bottom of the river." The man drew closer, menacingly.

Robin decided the conversation had gone on long enough. He got on the bike.

"That is my affair, unless you would like to take that mask off and tell me the truth." Robin answered. Seeing his interlocutors fists clench he sighed. "No? Well then, I will see you again, I'm sure." He shot off, in time to miss the furious lunge from the mystery man.

"I trust the night was uneventful, Master Timothy." Alfred said, watching Tim put away his boots and gauntlets in their rightful spot and remembering how Dick had always forgotten to do so. A soft smile at the memories of the mischievous Robin crossed Alfred's face. "No injuries to report?"

"None at all. I only crossed fists with a couple of thugs and they were untrained and unskilled." Tim answered. Alfred nodded, noting in his mind, not for the first time, that this newest Robin treated the position as a soldier might. It had been a war and a thrill for Dick, an outlet for Jason and for Bruce it was a crusade. For this Robin, it was a responsibility.

Not for the first time Alfred hated the Batman and his need of innocence to keep him grounded, to remind him what he fought for.

"Is Bruce still awake?"

"Yes. Report to him and set his mind at rest. Then go home to bed. Did you need anything more to eat or drink?"

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