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Chapter 8—
"I hate how he can be so carefree and happy when I'm ready to kill myself each night. Okay?"
No, that wasn't okay. That was far from okay. Batman watched as the boy shook his head, wincing in pain as he did so. The Dark Knight struggled with something to say; how would he know how to comfort a boy? It was clear now why Trace was willing to sacrifice everything for the goal they both shared in a drive they both shared. This only made the Batman more curious, what trauma had this boy endured in order to twist his revenge so and why had Batman let it? 'Never let another kid end up like you'.
Great, this kid was, in fact, worse off.
"Are you okay?" He asked but received no answer.
Batman could almost see the torment of memories and emotions going on behind the mask but he regained himself, relaxing muscles and features and walked away. Of course, it was his way of dealing but closing himself off to the world wasn't ideal if he were going to grow up to function like a normal human living in the façade that he was indeed alright. It had been almost as if he literally hadn't heard the Batman's question or anything at all.
"Wait." Batman tried to stop him with a hand on his shoulder, while planting a tracker on his back but he walked on as if he hadn't felt anything.
Moving back to the Batmobile, he took note of the time: three in the morning and Alfred was expecting him back about now. As he drove home, he called the cave.
"Master Bruce, no complications, I hope."
"No, actually, I had the help of Boy Wonder, tonight. He's back and he's better. He fought Harley with no problem but he does concern me."
"And why is that, sir?" Alfred's courteous voice merely hinted at his own concern for the young boy risking his life in the crime-fighting life, which he had mentioned numerous times before. The boy's absence for half a year had stirred the butler into fearing the worst.
"He let slip that he…" he couldn't say he was suicidal, even if that was what he had said, "…he has his own psychological problems, no doubt pushing him into the dangerous life. I want to find out what happened and if it could affect him or Gotham could you pull up the file?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, I'm five minutes away."
The link cut out and left the Batman in silent thought, he had compiled a file of all news broadcasts, articles and online forums, on or mentioning him. There was even an art site where artwork was submitted depicting what they thought he'd look like and among fan fiction sites and Tracer forums, he'd come to the conclusion he'd gained a lot of fans all waiting for him to reveal himself to the world. His followers called themselves the Tracers and Batman always scoffed at the name when he read it online.
The dark navy of the polluted skies of the city gave way to vines and trees as the Batmobile entered the secret entrance, with a short command from the car's dashboard. The small strip of lights along the edges of the cave were the only indication where the walls were, other than that he drove blindly through the darkness with only the humming of the stealthy engine to accompany his thoughts, of which focused on the boy. His words echoed through the Batman's guilt-ridden consciousness.
"I hate how he can be so carefree and happy when I'm ready to kill myself each night. Okay?"
He was curious as to how the boy had just shut every emotion down and every sense with it. If he did that in battle, he would be an easy kill for sure. Even though he was better, he now had the Joker's attention and the clown would be sore form being beaten so easily. He'd return for another fight and Boy Wonder was nowhere near prepared for fighting the deranged super-villain. The kid was seemingly damaged enough, to pile on the Joker's sick antics and ideas would be to send him down a path he really wanted to avoid. It was bad enough he could anticipate the Riddler but the Joker was a whole new story.
The car pulled up and Batman made a bee line for his computer where Boy Wonder's file lit up the screen, casting an eerie glow against the rest of the cold cave.
"Batman, Martian Manhunter is ready to go through with our simulation in our next session." The message from Superman rang out into the empty cave.
Alfred waited patiently on hand and nodded to Batman in greeting. Pulling his cowl down, he fell into the seat and rested his wrist of the edge of the board, ready to spur into a flurry of typing. He started by pulling up every news feed and televised sighting or interview. By then Alfred had suggested he retire for he night with a fresh start the next morning after he hadn't found anything new; Bruce agreed and disappeared to change.
Hugging his last cup of coffee, he closed down the computer and made his way upstairs to bed. He walked right up to his room as he drank to calming liquid and savoured the feeling of it running down his tired throat. Just as always, Alfred had been right, now adrenaline was wearing off Bruce was tired. Alfred took his empty mug and bid him goodnight. The billionaire had all but passed out onto the silk sheets the second they touched his aching back.
Blood swelled at the rupture and spilled down his back. The handle of the sword had dried blood encrusted in the shape of a careless hand print. The sword itself was long. The sword had ran through the young boy yet carried on going, it was driven into the wall before it had finally stopped, skewering the poor kid. Bruce stood before the body not as Batman but as Bruce. The commissioner had called him to show him the murder victim they had found.
Richard Grayson was dead and it was all because he had failed him. Batman couldn't find him and Bruce couldn't keep him still in the first place. Commissioner Gordon knew his and blamed him and rightfully so; he glared at him form the doorway, boring holes into the back of his head. It was Bruce's fault, though and through.
More blood trickled from the wound that killed him and dropped, only to hit the autopsy table. The table was at an angle, making everything run into a hole, below the hole, was a chalice, full of his blood. It taunted the detective as he watched the corpse of the once happy boy rot. The boy had been happy at the circus, but Bruce had witnessed the boy's fall into depression.
He presumed he had welcomed the death when no sign of struggle was found. He was only eleven and yet welcoming death; it was a thought Batman couldn't avoid. He was so smart and quick. The natural talent he had for acrobatics was astounding, a real crowd pleaser. Although, now he had no crowd to please, no one cared, no one remembered him. Maybe that would have changed, had he the chance to turn his life around. Meet a nice girl, have a nice life but no….Bruce's hesitation got him killed.
The accusation bounced between his ears.
Your fault.
Your fault.
Your doing. It might as well have been your hand at which he was killed.
Your fault.
"I never saw him smile." Gordon murmured.
"Jim…"
"No." He cut him off, "You don't have anything to say that I want to hear. Now scarper before the coroner gets here. I could get away with arresting you for tempering with a crime scene if I see fit."
"You blame me."
"Of course, don't you?"
Bruce woke up crying for the first time since he was eight, morning his parents deaths all that long ago. He half-expected to see Alfred sitting at his bedside, running a comforting hand through his hair to calm to grief-stricken boy. Nevertheless, the elder man wasn't there and Bruce sat up and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his pyjamas as he fought the urge to sob once more. That dream was the last straw. He might have failed Richard Grayson but he wouldn't abandon Boy Wonder.
Two years later
It was him, Tony Zucco. The man to kill his parents and ruin his life; the man to drag him down to the petty existence he suffered in. He stood with a smoke in hand as he leant on the car's hood. There was no mistaking the heterochromia iridum, the right eye blue and the left eye brown. Richard watched from across the street, still in his Boy Wonder guise. He was alone, Trace was trained and time was of the esscence. Rage boiled inside the young boy; and he strode towards him with his slingshot at the ready. The murderer only noticed him when the first punch connected with his temple.
He tried to scramble to his feet just as BW threw a smoke pellet down. The unsuspecting criminal heard was the click of the trunk and felt a tug of his jacket; Boy Wonder left him trapped in the car while he slipped into the driver seat and hacked the walkie-talkie. It took barely a second of skilled changing of frequency before he found the police. Gordon's voice was indication of his success.
"…on the corner of the street, heading west…"
"Hey Commissioner, this is Trace here. 88, Sheltered View. Pick up this guy before I hurt him more than necessary." He ground out and fixed the radio before hearing the reply fill the stunned silence on the link.
He made his way to face his worst enemy and stared into the concussed eyes before proceeding to punch him in the jaw until unconscious. He left his mark before slipping back into the shadows to listen as the waging sirens grew closer. Boy Wonder waited and watched as a first police car pulled up and an officer emerged only to spot Tony Zucco and start laughing. The Commissioner was first to arrive, he smirked at the scene.
"How did he hack the radio?"
"He looks like he was hit with a truck."
"He sounded scary over the radio, and they say he's just a kid."
Tony Zucco stirred as they freed him and he jumped up to his feet, startling the police. Boy Wonder started forwards when he saw he was going to escape. Jumping off the side of the van, he span into a kick that snapped the idiots head back. While ignoring the muttered exclamations of the officers, he advanced on the con-man. Throwing punches to knock the teeth from his gums, it was only when Zucco became limp once more that he slowly peeled away from his revenge.
The Commissioner was to only one willing to speak up, after years navigating the Batman. "Trace…it's late…"
"So it is…" He smirked, aware of what Gordon was getting at, as he wiped the blood from his knuckles.
"Don't you have somewhere to be tomorrow?"
"School? Are you trying to tell me to go bedie byes?" He glanced at him and saw the man behind gulp.
"I thought you would have after battling the Joker, that's all. Where is the Batman?" He persisted.
"Hanging upside down from the cave stalactites, maybe? Why would I know?"
"Just asking. Don't be offended."
"Besides, Joker took two minutes to take down; you didn't miss much hiding in the truck."
"I wasn't hiding, my squad was investigating and…"
"I see that went down spectacularly; it's best to always get information straight from the source. What did you do after he beat your every plan and tactic?"
"Prayed Batman would arrive."
"I love it, do you mind if I borrow that strategy while I investigate him?"
"Don't you have teddy bears to tuck in?"
"Don't you have grandchildren to tuck in?" He countered without pause.
"I'm not that old, my daughter is about as old as you, young man…I better not have grandchildren."
He turned back to check on the officers behind him that had broken from watching their sparring match to arresting Zucco. When the Commissioner turned back, the boy was gone. He shook his head muttering about damn Gotham vigilantes and returned to his squad car to call in.
Eighth chapter out of thirteen planned...dun dun dunnn! The Young Justice team will be in chapter eleven, I think. I only put this under YJ because that was the Robin I based Trace off but Miss Grayson asked if I could write how the team would change, so I will. Anyone else can suggest changes and I'll try and adapt future chapters.
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