Now, this story is about a plethora of characters and what would a tale about Batman be without his faithful bird and beloved sidekick, Robin?
Well, Mister Robin, aka Dick Greyson, was feeling a little less then faithful and a lot less then beloved. Batman hated him, or so he was painfully sure of. What was wrong with that silly man?
For one thing, he hadn't had a girl over in days, not that Dick was mad about that (Bruce's usual floozy crowd scared him).
Another was that he was spending a lot more time at the hall of justice then he should have (at least for a man who so obviously hated the place) and a lot less time with Robin then he should be.
Robin hadn't been on patrol in days and he wasn't going to go out alone and risk getting in trouble again. After all, Batman was already mad at him for one thing, which seemed stupid and pointless.
Dick wondered glumly if perhaps, the Batman had found a more talented sidekick, one who came from a better circus and had had more family members die then Dick had. Those seemed to be pretty important qualities for a sidekick of Batman's.
Now, Dick found himself avoiding Bruce when the man was actually home (which wasn't often these days). He missed the old Bruce that took him out on patrol and didn't look like his head would fall off if he hung it any lower as he walked, not that the old Bruce was ever in a particularly happy mood to begin with.
Whatever the Batman was down about, there didn't seem to be anything his Robin could do about it, which irked Robin because he wasn't used to being unable to do anything to help himself.
Robin wished there was someone he could go out and punch to fix all his problems. That usually solved all of Batman's problems.
Dick sat holed up in his room, feeling dejected and alone and altogether miserable. What was wrong with Batman?