Last night, I couldn't get to sleep. My darling blondie had her back to me and was all curled up… and she had all the blankets… so I scooted really close. I kind of tried to fold myself against her so I could get some of the covers without having to fight for them. I didn't put an arm around her though, no matter how bad I wanted to. I was smiling though… then I hear this camera click. Her mom got us. Her mom got me. Damnit. At least I didn't try kissing her though! Heh… Okay. Maybe I did try. But I weenied out and just held her hand. To keep me up a bit longer before that, she cupped my chin in her hand. I thought she was going to kiss me. My heart dropped to my feet and I couldn't breathe. Then she flicked me. Cock-blocker.
Disclaimer: I own NOZZING. Nothing. Nada.
As a hero on the side, Bruce Wayne had experience in all sorts of dangers; everything from loaded gun barrels meant for staring down and oversized mutant crocodiles with homicidal tendencies. Danger was one of his closest friends, never leaving his side and watching his back at every chance it was with him, looking him in the face with a proud expression. It could make his heart skip a beat and bring the faintest of grins to his lips in the shadow, but its favorite hobby with him was finding ways to crawl under his skin, a task that was far too easy.
Nothing was more dangerous though, in his experience with spandex and uncomfortable cowls, than driving with the sounds of the one you find yourself most attached to in pain playing through your head.
He wasn't Bruce though as his gloves clenched the steering wheel in a death grip, his boot specifically designed for stealth resting against the floor of the vehicular device that resembled a winged mammal in form. The extended wings that rose from the black body surprisingly didn't stand out in traffic, mostly because the car was but a moving shadow as it blasted through the cars that parted as if he was a federal agent. He felt like he was driving down a runway, the audience's eyes all on him.
"I-I'm not... r-really a hero… I just… wear a m-mask and… a cape. I'm too sh-short to save a-a-anyone!…I'm j-just a s-sidekick, no matter w-what you say… even B.. even Babs… she just st-stood there… a-and stared at m-me! Like I was a monster!"
Bruce gritted his teeth painfully, goose bumps dusting over his skin at the broken words that drowned his mind in their agony. Instead of being able to focus on his fast paced heartbeat to distract himself, each thump was replaced with a ragged gasp in his head, one with a higher pitch and a hopeless tone. Each beat grabbed harder and harder at his heart, only turning his knuckles to the purest of snow colors beneath the gloves.
And to think, the morning had started off relatively normal.
It was always a half-empty cup of black coffee to accompany the 6:30 sunrise, only a quarter drank before the youngest resident of the Wayne Manor would come down dressed in his nines. The beautiful navy eyes would always be innocently drowsy, making him look a lot younger than he actually was, all of his words mumbled. By this point, all he has left to do is slick his hair back from his eyes to expose his pretty face, the one usually covered by a thin domino mask.
This morning, there was something about the way the sunrays pierced the window's glass that propelled Bruce to set the newspaper down and get up to greet his ward. There was something about the way the marble shone that inspired him to ask Dick if he could fix his hair so the younger boy wouldn't have to wash his hands again. There was something about the way the navy eyes sparkled in surprise that brought a warm smile to his lips and an even warmer chuckle to the surface.
"You didn't catch my cold, did you?" Dick had teased, rubbing his eyes as tan fingers coated in gel ran smoothly over his forced black hair.
The motion seemed to feel good from the way his smile grew soft, or maybe it was just the amount of affection and attention he was getting. Being in the circus for most of his life had gotten him dependent on the touch of another to get on with life and although this was just to his head, it had him feeling right at home like he should.
"Superheroes don't get sick," Bruce roughly attacked the cowlick at the back of his protégé's head until it finally lost its rigor mortis and dropped back down with the rest of his hair.
Dick's eyes narrowed jokingly. "Oh, ouch. Thanks."
It took the older of them a moment to get why his boy sounded so offended, but when he did, he offered nothing more than a light chuckle and a final run over of the stiff hair.
"You're a hero, but not a superhero. When you're of age and join the League, then you gain your immunity to the impervious diseases. But until then-," he wiped his hands off on the towel in the bathroom, patting the ebony's shoulder lightly, "enjoy your sicknesses."
Dick laughed lightly, grinning widely, the affection making it seem as if he took an injection of pure sunshine straight into his heart. It radiated from his expression wildly, the golden rays reflecting off of his features in the most discrete way possible as to not burn straight through his flesh.
"I will! You enjoy having to go to work every day," the boy's giggle was the second to last thing Bruce heard of him, the last being, "Bye Bruce! See you up at the cave!"
Alfred had left him to, or he must've at least, because after Bruce had thoroughly washed his hands free of the gel, he found himself alone in the Manor. He wasn't bothered though; he just picked up his newspaper and went back to trying to finish his coffee. He never could though, or so it seemed, because the second he lifted the mug a ring cut the air.
This wasn't the kind of ring that fit around the finger of the person you love, although in Bruce's eyes or ears for that matter, this ring was near as bad. This ring was the kind from the telephone, a sound he absolutely despised hearing. He usually had people for this. He assumed responsibility, climbing to his feet and abandoning everything in his hands to pick up the phone, putting on a face as if they could actually see him.
"This is Bruce Wayne," he picked up in a formal voice, looking at the phone in his hand curious for a voice to return to him.
There was a pause before the reply sounded, already making the ebony suspicious before the words could even hit his ear.
"H-Hello, Mr. Wayne," a familiar voice managed.
The older man's features tightened. "Johnson… why are you calling me? Did something happen?"
A nervous laugh came over the line, causing Bruce's mind to run circles through various what-if situations on why a trusted colleague would find the need to call him barely thirty minutes from the time he planned to come into work and talk to him with such a nervous voice.
"Don't… Don't come into work today," the man on the other end advised shakily, "I don't know if you've seen the news this morning… but the employees here have and they're a little… t-ticked with you."
Bruce's eyebrows raised, half tempted to find the remote and turn on Channel Four for a quick briefing on what he was behind in. He preferred to hear things face-to-face though, on those rare occasions when he wasn't up to speed on something. It was rare though, so he wasn't exactly quite sure on what he definitely preferred. He'd rather be in person to hear it though.
"I'm on my way," he went to hang up swiftly before the man's quick cry froze his finger barely a breath from the button that could disconnect them. "What?"
The hovering silence lightly set his finger to the red button, but Taylor Johnson was smart enough to speak up at the last second and cause Bruce to walk towards the stairs slowly, his hand touching to the railing before the voice hit his ear.
"Please, Mr. Wayne! I would never ask something like this-," the man began.
"But you are asking it," the ebony intervened with a smirk, starting up the stairs, "and it's Bruce. We've worked together nearly eight years; don't be afraid to call me by name."
He was halfway up the stairs when a reply was stuttered out, but this time he didn't stop walking. He had a suit to don and hair to adjust.
"Please-… Bruce. I would never ask something like this unless it was really important… I can't stress this enough. Please, please don't come in."
Bruce's attention was caught and secured safely on the hook with no chance of it being released from the sinister hold, the door to his room already opened and his closet doorknob already trapped in a pale grasp.
"Challenge accepted," he grinned to himself, hanging the phone up and setting it on the dresser to his left.
He quickly dressed in his work attire, taking his time because he knew he still had time before he was needed in. How much they wanted him was debatable, from what Taylor had said, but they needed his presence there so they could live with whatever was on the news. It couldn't be too big a deal… right?
It didn't take long for him to get into his civilian car, casually driving out to Wayne Tech's main location, driving in near silence if you didn't count the bountiful amount of thoughts that occupied his mind while his hands stayed ten and two on the wheel, respecting the rules of the road. He only disobeyed when he came into the parking lot, speeding a bit so he could spiral the car and pull into his reserved spot with a feeling of accomplishment.
He opened his door carefully and stepped out, focusing on looking professional in his manner as he closed it, pocketing his keys and walking up to the door. It sparkled, reflecting him back an image of himself, bringing a warm smile to his lips at the thought of the worker who was dedicated enough to come in earlier than he did. When he pushed past the doors, he didn't make it a step before he was confronted by someone who definitely wasn't nerdy little ginger Taylor Johnson.
No, his first fan of the day was Michael Williams, a man with shoulders as broad as the mountains and skin the same tone as the rocks that make them up. His eyes matched the night sky around the mountain, his bulging arms like the heavy rivers flowing near the base of this rock structure. He wasn't one to smile, which was one of the few reasons he was hired rather quickly for security detail.
"Mr. Williams," Bruce raised his head in a nod at the man in his best form of a greeting. "How are things looking this morning?"
Michael's face stayed cold, his arms folded over his chest as he stared down the highest ranked authority in the building.
"No problems this morning, Mr. Wayne, other than the criminal who broke in," the man's voice was far deeper than the Dark Knight's greatest attempt, similar in tone to Trace Adkins if that were to help you understand its pitch in any way.
Bruce's eyes widened, automatically darting around for broken glass, missing furniture or any havoc that would show regularly from a result of such a crime. His company seemed no different than it had before, only the stiffness off the atmosphere catching his attention nearly instantly.
"You subdued them, I presume?" he coughed lightly, keeping his voice calm and professional, a little worried from how Taylor had sounded earlier regarding this.
His mind ran upstairs, worried that the perpetrator had gone there and ruined something he couldn't see. If they had touched his office, he'd make it his personal mission to staple this man to the back of a semi- naked. His staple fantasy was cut short when a dark hand lightly grabbed his jacket arm around his forearm.
"I just did."
Bruce tensed, immediately tearing his arm from the hold and watching Michael through cautious eyes. He absently rubbed his arm, figuring that's what someone of civilian strength might do with such pressure. Batman would never hopelessly try to wipe away the pain; no, Batman would accept the pain with no emotion.
"What are you talking about?" he firmly asked, his eyes narrowing accusingly.
Michael backed up to the counter, resting his elbows along the granite, his finger tracing the handcuffs lightly.
"Does the name Batman mean anything to you?"
Bruce knew to react fast, despite the paralyzing surprise that was building up strongly in the pit of his stomach. This didn't mean anything. He could just play if off and go back to work like usual. He had a moment like this well rehearsed in his head, created back when he had decided that he wanted to be a hero, carefully edited with the years. He was ready for this.
"A wannabe one-man police force nearly half over with his age who runs around with a little boy who's just started it in spandex? No, it doesn't mean a thing to me," he bared his teeth, replacing the worry with the offense one with such thoughts might think.
The ebony internally winced, remembering reading that from an email he had been sent regarding his alter ego. The public wasn't at an agreement for whether or not he was good for the world, but he wasn't in search for an opinion. They needed him, whether they liked it or not, and he was going to be their Nanny McPhee until they could stand on their own two feet without the need of a man in a cape to help them with it.
Michael chuckled at the innocence, looking from the door to Bruce as if to determine how long it would take for the man to run there and if he'd need to move closer. The richer among them noticed and found himself a bit more upset with the fact that the man didn't move an inch closer. He didn't see him as a threat. How blind he must've been, worthy of such pity!
"I'm guessing you missed the news this morning," the security guard smirked lightly, seeming to get comfortable against the counter.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest angrily. "You're the second person to assume that this morning. I was helping my ward get ready for school, so yes, I missed it. What was so important that people are asking me about it?"
He had expected to hear a lot, what he heard being one of those things, but it still managed to crawl under his skin and nip at his nearly dull nerves. He wasn't quite afraid, seeing that it was fear that was afraid of Batman, but he was definitely bordering hard on the edge of overly-cautious.
"Everyone knows that you're Batman. Someone leaked it all over the internet, which makes you a vigilante, and a criminal. Sad as it is, it seems I have to arrest you."
Muscles were purposely tensed and confusion was forced to tan features. Dark eyes were forcefully narrowed in mock anger, one forced to match the scowl coated evenly in annoyance as Bruce touched his palm to his brow. He shamefully shook his head, playing the script the best he knew how.
"I assumed an employee of mine to be competent enough to see all the flaws in such an assumption. How could someone of my lifestyle possibly have time to save a city, let alone a planet? I barely have enough time to come home each night to make sure my ward is tucked in bed with his heart still beating! I have a company to manage, business meetings to attend and negotiate at, final ideas and decisions to veto or approve, scholarships to assign-," he rambled on, hoping the power in his words would convince the dark-skinned man of his 'innocence'.
Michael seemed caught off-guard if anything, but his competence broke through seconds later. Only the best could work for Wayne Tech, which had both good and bad advantages, this being one of the worse ones.
"Nice try, Mr. Wayne… but the company you manage has reported many missing products, all of which you've dismissed and paid for without reporting the police. Then, days later, we see the Dynamic Duo using modified versions of said products in battle. No way that can be any form of coincidence," he pointed out, snidely smiling.
Bruce hadn't expected such a debate when this situation had first crossed his mind. He still had his boxing gloves secured tight around his fists, though, and he had full intention of winning the referee's hand on his wrist.
"Normally, I'd disagree," he found himself saying, "but let's face it. Security isn't greatest by the labs and prototypes could be easily smuggled out and sold. The only reason I haven't reported it is because it doesn't affect anything. I obviously have the money to be able to afford some simply theft. The police are just a hassle. I have you and your boys for these kinds of problems, Williams. Get on it so there isn't a criminal with our technology in his hands! I want the Wayne name clean!"
The snide smile was long gone. Instead, anger took its place, practical steam billowing from the scarlet face with a higher frequencied shriek.
"I've heard enough. I'll ask nicely once before I escort you out. Now, Mr. Wayne, would you please leave?" Michael's tone was gruff and commanding now, not even the faintest dab of nice to the tip.
Brue felt his stomach drop to his feet, finally coming to realize that the ground beneath his feet was really just a pile of broken sticks and leaves covering his pit trap. He was hurtling towards the spikes now, his hands painstakingly slow as they reached for the walls. Just before his fingers missed an outstretched branch, a sharp beep acted like an arm and pulled him from his descent. A phone call. He held up a finger, his index mind you, to tell Michael he'd be but a second as he took the call.
The second he heard the voice, he rushed out of the building to his civilian car. The pain in his ward's voice and the link he had contacted him through suggested something had happened with the younger ebony's persona, quickly revealed as the trembling words explained the horror that had drifted from Wayne Tech to Gotham Academy. His sidekick had been discovered. Who else had been revealed? They'd have to find out…
"Robin…" he was snapped back from his planning of how to find out the full details of this occurrence, only to find that Dick was pulling a Flash, his mouth seemingly unhinged as he went on and on.
He found himself surprised at how his own voice sounded in the faint echo, the sadness on his tone easily silencing the caller. Sure, he had intended for a silence, but he didn't like the circumstance of this one.
"I know. It seems my identity has been… revealed… I've been locked out of Wayne Tech-," he didn't think hard as he spoke, just wanting to take the edge from the quiet, freezing at the spit-free spit take, "Can you meet me at the Cave in five?"
It only occurred to him as he hit the highway with his speeds that Dick had been at school, meaning he had no vehicle and therefore no means of getting home. His mind was a little disconnected from his conversation earlier. It was so disconnected, when he finally became reaware of things, he found himself in the Batmobile in full costume, barreling down the road with Dick's voice gone from his ears.
A GPS placed into his dashboard was leading him to a blinking R, Dick's identification tag in his systems, meaning he was going to save his ward. After a bit of thinking, he came to recall that there wasn't an enemy to face, but rather a reflection that needed to be dealt with. The teen had already been through so much; it was time he was pointed from the mirror to the window so he could see far past the pain.
Sorry this is late, and incomplete. Batman and Robin interaction is coming up. And then we'll see Wally. Hold onto your plushies, boys and girls, and just rewatch this week's episode. I have to admit, even though I hate the main couple, I found myself to be in tears and squealing at the end. If you haven't seen it, all I can say is you need to. I've been working on this for a while; I'm just really, really lazy. Review?
-F.J.
