[Batman & Robin] Broken Promises [PG] 1/1
Syl
Author: Syl Francis
Email: efra...@earthlink.net
Part: 1/1
Rating: G
Word count: 4,458
****
Summary: After the Joker shoots Robin, Batman arrives at an
earth-shattering decision that forever changes Dick Grayson's life.
Disclaimer: All the characters are owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner;
this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their
copyright. Feedback is welcome!
Copyright 1999
****
Broken Promises
by Syl Francis
The atmosphere in the room was tense. Dick's fever had risen almost
three degrees in two hours. What *had* he been thinking to allow the boy
to accompany him against the Joker? *Allow* him? Wayne paused in his
reflections. What choice did Dick give him? Robin simply appeared just
as Batman was about to confront his archenemy.
Since he started college, Dick didn't have as many opportunities to join
Batman on his evening patrols. The boy had seemed so eager when the call
came in that the Joker had broken out of Arkham Asylum . . .
". . . Absolutely not!" Wayne said, his hand making that familiar
slashing motion he did when ending a conversation with his ward. "You
have a paper due in your Economics class *and* you're nursing one of the
worst colds I've seen in a while. No way are you dressing up as Robin.
I'll handle the Joker . . . *you* go to bed!"
Of course, Dick disobeyed his guardian. He was no longer the absolutely
obedient little boy of yesteryear. Dick was a young man of nineteen, and
he was as stubborn and full of pride as the man who'd raised and
mentored him for over half his life. There was no way that Robin was
about to let his "father" face the Joker alone.
The sounds of the Batmobile's supercharged engines were still
reverberating through the seemingly infinite underground caverns that
comprised the Batcave when Robin revved his motorcycle and followed.
Knowing every one of Robin's move almost as if he himself had been
there, Wayne recreated in his mind what must have happened . . .
. . . Robin activated the stealth-tracking device he'd recently
installed on his motorcycle and followed the Batmobile to the warehouse
district. He tracked at a distance that safely precluded a
counter-surveillance device from being activated in the Batmobile that
showed it was being trailed . . .
. . . Wayne paused to allow a moment of pride swell through his chest.
The boy was damned good! He's almost as good as *I* am now! In a few
more years, he'll be doing a solo. Wayne stopped himself.
What am I *thinking*? Dick could've been *killed* tonight! What would I
have done then?
Wayne peered over Dr. Leslie's shoulder as she administered yet another
inoculation. Dick looked so pale. His dark hair was matted from the
profuse amount of perspiration from his fever. His face showed that he
was in terrible pain . . . probably from the gunshot wound . . . his
breathing sounded labored. The boy's shoulder was heavily bandaged.
Wayne could see where some red had still managed to seep through the
layers of gauze. Dick's whole left side showed a deeply spreading
discoloration.
The Joker's "toy" gun had packed an impossibly large caliber bullet.
Dick was lucky to still have his arm . . . no, Wayne amended, Dick was
lucky to still be alive.
For the first time in a long time, Wayne was frightened. He remembered
Robin's sudden appearance . . .
". . . Excuse me, sir, but is this 'the long way to Tipperary . . ? To
the sweetest girl I know . . ?"
Batman whirled around, a batarang immediately in his left hand ready to
throw. Robin! He was so intent on the Joker that he'd dropped his guard.
Robin grinned through his mask and held up his hands.
"Whoa!" he whispered. "You must be getting old, partner. Used to be a
time when the Bat's omni-directional radar would never have allowed a
little bird to sneak up on him."
Batman didn't bother to answer. He gave his junior partner a look that
could freeze a perpetrator's blood in his veins. It was a look that
Robin recognized and which instantly brought a knowing smirk.
"So, what say, 'you take the high road and I'll take the low'?" Robin
suggested. His voice was raspy from the cough he was nursing. He
immediately turned, and covering his mouth, coughed helplessly for
several seconds. He used his cape to inelegantly wipe his mouth. Alfred
would be mortified at such an uncivilized action!
Oh well, Robin thought, one used what was available during a stakeout.
Forcing his body to obey him, Robin turned and faced Batman defiantly,
daring him to send him home. Batman glared at Robin for several seconds.
Man and boy stood in identically stubborn postures: arms crossed, capes
billowing in the freezing rain, chins jutted in mirror images of each
other. Batman and Robin . . . mentor and student . . . father and son.
Knowing that it was useless to state the obvious . . . that Dick was
sick and should be in bed . . . that he should concentrate on his
studies because one day he would run Wayne Enterprises . . . that he
should try to lead a normal life while in college . . . meet young
people his own age . . . date . . . go to parties . . . football games .
. . everything Dick had missed during his most unusual childhood . . .
Batman chose instead to give his junior partner a brief nod.
"Let's go, partner!" Batman said. Robin gave him an answering nod. The
time for humor was over. They were about to face the Joker . . .
possibly the most dangerous criminal in the Batman's rogue's gallery. .
.
. . . Standing respectfully to the side, Alfred studied his first
charge. Wayne's closed inscrutable face did not fool Alfred. Wayne was
worried for the young man whom he considered his son. And rightfully so
. . . congested lungs . . . rampaging fever . . . viral pneumonia
compounded by exposure to sub-zero conditions . . . and a gunshot wound
on top of all that!
Dr. Leslie took out her digital thermometer and placed it gently in
Dick's ear.
"One hundred two!" She called, sounding relieved. "His fever's going
down, Bruce." Dr. Leslie looked up at the man whom she considered a son.
She had tears in her eyes. "He's going to be all right." Wayne closed
his eyes in silent prayer. Dick was going to be all right.
Dr. Leslie stood up and Wayne immediately sat down next to Dick. He felt
a sudden need to touch his adopted son, and gently traced the back of
his fingers from Dick's cheek to his chin. Dick still felt unnaturally
hot to the touch. So much courage in one so young! Sometimes Wayne
regretted his decision to allow Dick to become the Batman's partner. His
heart stopped whenever he let himself dwell on the dangers Robin might
be exposed to in the course of a single night.
But would it ever be right to deny the boy that which he was so
obviously destined to do? Having come this far, could he ever deny Dick
the right to be Robin? Wayne didn't think so, yet the previous hours'
incidents . . . Wayne hadn't felt this helpless since . . . not since
that night so long ago when his parents were gunned down in front of him
. . .
He closed his eyes at the remembered pain . . .
. . . He again hears the sound of the bullets impacting in his father's
chest . . . his mother's screams . . . a second gunshot . . . his
mother's string of broken pearls falling in slow motion . . . the red
roses she's holding falling as her hands, unable to hold onto them any
longer, release them . . . his parents' blood spreading in a growing
stain . . . mixing with the dirty rain water from the previous night's
storm.
The scene of horror changes to one of garish lights, trumpets,
elephants, and clowns . . . the Haly Circus is in town and giving a
benefit show for the Wayne Foundation Children's Fund. The Flying
Graysons stand proudly in the spotlight in center ring . . . a young
family of aerialists, with the youngest Grayson, Richard, the star of
the show. Wayne watches as the boy performs his death-defying quadruple
spin . . . the Grayson boy is one of only three people in the world who
can perform this feat. Wayne is duly impressed . . . the young aerialist
could teach him a thing or two, he muses.
As soon as the boy's performance is completed, his parents take center
ring to demonstrate to world why the boy still has a few things to
learn. When the man catches the woman, the trapeze wires, suddenly
overburdened with the added weight, snap! The boy's screams . . . "NO!"
. . . echo in Wayne's mind . . . his broken-hearted sobs bring an
answering response in Wayne's own heart. As the boy kneels between his
parents' broken bodies, lying in center ring where they fell, Wayne vows
that he'll do everything possible to bring those responsible to justice.
Without even trying, before he even meets him, the boy has already
wedged his way into the Bat's frozen heart . . .
The scene changes again . . . to a few hours ago . . . this time the
screams are his own . . . as he watches helplessly while the Joker
shoots that ridiculous gun . . . and Robin is the intended target. . !
. . . The Dynamic Duo split up . . . acting as a well-oiled machine,
each knew what the other was doing and planned his own moves
accordingly. Robin was approaching the Joker from his exposed left side.
Batman would approach from the front.
Robin brought to bear every stealth trick he'd learned in his ten years
as the Batman's partner. His movements were those of a silent phantom
flitting through the deeper darkness of the rain-induced shadows. The
freezing rain was beginning to affect his muscles, though.
He and Batman had already discussed a new-improved costume for him. One
that was a little more practical . . . thankfully with long pants and
possibly with an underlying protection of Kevlar weave. The costume was
still in the design stage, but Robin was definitely going to push his
mentor into completing it. The old joke about Bat long underwear was
just that . . . he was freezing!
Robin reached his position. He waited knowing that Batman still needed
another thirty seconds to get into place. He instinctively counted off
the seconds . . . Time! He waited an additional ten seconds, then sprang
into action. Or at least, that's what the Teen Wonder intended, but his
muscles were slightly cramped from where he'd been crouching in the
freezing rain. When Robin moved, his leg muscles failed to respond with
their usual athletic grace.
As he stood, Robin's legs moved stiffly and as a result, he
inadvertently kicked a loose stone that was lying on the rooftop. Robin
froze in position. The stone barely whispered across the black tarmac on
the roof . . . the increasing wind and rain that was pounding them now
probably masked the noise. He couldn't take the chance though . . . the
Joker wasn't one to whom they could afford to give even the slightest
edge.
Robin took out a grappling line from his utility belt. He squinted
through the deepening gloom, and took out his night vision goggles. The
NVGs suddenly turned night into day . . . there! By the roof access to
the warehouse . . . the Joker was standing calmly in the rain. What was
he doing?
Suddenly the madman started laughing . . . that disturbing maniacal
laugh that used to give Robin nightmares when he was still a boy.
"If it isn't my old pal, Fatman . . . and his little Toy Wonder!" the
Joker mocked. "I've been wondering when you'd make your appearance!" The
Joker laughed again, throwing his head back, opening his arms out to the
sky! "So predictable . . . so perfect!"
Robin heard the familiar sound of a batarang flying across the rooftop
towards the Joker. However, the Clown Prince of Crime was no longer
standing near the rooftop access! Where'd he go? How'd he move without
Robin being able to see him? Robin felt, rather than saw movement to his
immediate left. Instinctively, he dove and rolled. Where he'd been
standing, he saw a hissing, melting black spot growing. He swallowed.
The Joker had spewed one of his deadly corrosive acids at Robin.
"Whoa!" Robin whispered. His chest and throat decided at this moment to
let him know that he still had the cough from hell! He fell into a
severe coughing fit . . . worse than before . . . a real hacking,
lung-congested, hold your sides because you feel your abdominal muscles
tearing from the effort of trying to keep what's inside from choosing
this particular moment to come outside, type of cough.
Robin collapsed onto his knees and held his sides helplessly as his body
racked from the violent hacking cough that overtook him. He looked up as
an evil shadow descended upon him. The Joker unmindful of exposing
himself was pointing a ridiculous-looking old-style blunderbuss at
Robin, the kind with a bell-like, flaring muzzle at the end. Robin's
eyes widened as he realized that he was completely open and too helpless
to seek cover.
Several things suddenly happened at once. First the Joker gave the Teen
Wonder one final laugh of triumph, and pulled the trigger pointblank!
Robin dove in one last desperate attempt to get behind some kind of
protection. Over the roar of the Joker's gunshot, Robin heard the
familiar, comforting sound of a small pistol-like shot going off
followed by the whirring sound of something flying through the air.
As Robin felt the sudden unexpected impact of a giant hand striking him,
he saw the Joker being helplessly trussed up with one of the Dynamic
Duo's patented grappling hooks and heavy nylon ropes. Strangely, the
Joker didn't seem to mind in the least; instead, his laughter seemed to
increase in volume, almost triumphantly.
Robin couldn't understand . . . why was the Joker so happy when he had
obviously just been captured? Furthermore, what was that roaring in his
ears? Why did he feel so tired? Why was the Joker so far away? Batman .
. . where was Batman . . . Had to find him . . . needed his help . . .
So strange . . . it was freezing outside, but he felt so hot . . . so
exhausted . . . he wanted to go to sleep . . . couldn't . . . had to
help Batman . . . the Joker . . .
". . . Got to help . . . " Dick croaked. "Batman . . . got to help
Batman . . . " Dick mumbled in his sleep, upset over whatever was
occurring his dreams. "Batman . . ! The Joker! By the rooftop access . .
. be careful . . . be careful!" He started coughing. The force of the
hacking causing his body to sit up in bed. Wayne immediately held his
boy until the coughing fit passed. He gently lay the boy back down again
onto his pillows. It was obvious that although the worst had passed,
Dick still had a way to go before he became a hundred percent again.
Dr. Leslie left sometime after 3:00 a.m. Alfred saw her to the door.
Wayne remained oblivious to everything that was going on around him.
Both Leslie and Alfred were worried about how this would affect him.
Leslie hadn't exaggerated. Dick would recover fully. However, both she
and Alfred knew about Wayne's obsessed fear of losing those who were
close to him. His closed face had them both extremely concerned.
As Dick slept fitfully through the night, Wayne sat next to him, never
leaving his side . . .
. . . As soon as he'd tied up the Joker and ensured that he wouldn't be
able to escape, Batman checked on his junior partner. The spreading red
stain mixing with the dirty rainwater pooling on the rooftop almost
unhinged him. He froze for an instant, again the seven-year old Bruce
kneeling between his murdered parents. The Joker's insane laughter rang
throughout the night.
"HA! HA! HA! I *did* it! I *killed* the Boy Blunder! I *took* the most
important thing in the world from the mighty *BATMAN* . . . the little
junior Birdman! HA! HA! HA!"
The Joker's taunts and laughter finally snapped Batman back to reality.
He stemmed the blood flow as best he could; contacted the GCPD and told
them where they could find the Joker; then immediately picked Robin up
as if he were still a small child and brought him home. Enroute, he had
the presence of mind to call Alfred and inform him of Robin's condition.
"Call Doctor Leslie . . . tell her I'm on my way home . . . ask her to
meet us there," Batman paused, looking over at his unconscious partner.
The boy's wound started bleeding again and his breathing was extremely
labored. "And Alfred . . . tell her to hurry."
Batman gunned the Batmobile's engines to an even higher RPM. His usual
reckless driving reached a new pinnacle. Gothamites watched in horror as
the big, black Batmobile tore through the city's darkened, rain-soaked
streets, unmindful of pedestrians, other cars, or stop lights. Batman
jerked the wheel to the left, narrowly missing a young mother pushing a
pram through a crosswalk . . . he immediately turned the wheel to the
right to miss the oncoming traffic that he was suddenly driving into.
As Batman drove, he kept his face impassive. He barely noticed except to
feel relief when he finally left the city's boundaries, because now he
could finally push the Batmobile to even more impossibly higher speeds.
By the time he whipped the car through the hologram that protected the
entrance to the Batcave, the speedometer's needle was in the red zone
and off the scale . . .
. . . As Dick felt consciousness returning he immediately wanted to go
back to whatever warm darkness he'd been in. His left side felt like it
was on fire! He tried moving it and instantly regretted it. He felt bone
shift on bone, a certain wet stickiness suddenly resumed, and a
lightheadedness that made him feel as if the world was operating a split
second behind him gave a strange feeling of dissociation.
"Uh-h-h," Dick groaned, squeezing his eyes against the overwhelming
pain. He felt himself about to lose consciousness again, but fought
valiantly to hold onto reality. At last, the room stopped spinning, and
the rainbow strobe light that was tormenting his eyes coalesced into a
single bright morning sunbeam peeking through his very own open bedroom
window.
Last night's storm had passed. It looked like it was going to be a
beautiful day. Dick smiled. He was home and he was safe.
A movement in the shadows caught his eyes. He blinked, his eyes
temporarily dazzled from the morning sun.
"Bruce?" Dick whispered, his throat raspy.
Wayne stood and walked over to stand at the side of the bed. He gave
Dick his usual half-smile; only his eyes gave away his obvious relief.
Wayne sat down carefully on the bed, mindful of Dick's injuries. Almost
nervously, Wayne began to tuck Dick's covers around him, something he
hadn't done since his ward was about ten years old.
Uncharacteristically, Dick didn't protest against being babied. He had
worked so hard for so long to be accepted as an equal partner and not
just a junior sidekick. But, he figured, just this once . . .
Dick knew that he had been extremely lucky. He couldn't remember much
after the Joker pulled the trigger. If Wayne was relieved that he was
still alive, his relief was only half of what Dick was feeling at this
moment. Besides, it wasn't often anymore that Dick just allowed himself
to be fussed over by either Wayne or Alfred. It felt nice . . . warm . .
. safe . . . Dick felt himself slipping off to sleep again.
"Dick . . . " Wayne's voice broke through Dick's warm darkness.
Confused, he blinked his open. Where was he? He suddenly remembered.
Last night . . . the Joker . . . the blunderbuss . . . the explosion . .
. then blackness. Dick concentrated for a split second until his
surroundings came into focus. He turned his head slightly and was met by
Wayne's worriedly determined countenance.
"Bruce . . ?" he whispered. "What time is it?" He had an eight o'clock
Calculus class . . . major test today, he remembered.
"Don't worry about school, chum. I called the Dean of Students and told
him that you have a serious case of viral pneumonia, and that it'll be
awhile before you can return to your classes. I gave him Doctor Leslie's
number in case he needs to confirm the information." Wayne paused. "That
*bad cold* you've been nursing all week long was a bit more serious than
any of us thought. Really took a lot out of you, chum . . . probably
slowed your normal reflexes . . . resulting in . . . " he shrugged, his
face shutting down. ". . . you know."
Dick nodded. He felt confused and a little frightened. He didn't like
the look in Wayne's eyes . . . more intense than normal . . . which was
usually pretty intense . . . and fear! Dick thought he saw fear in his
guardian's eyes! Feeling suddenly afraid to ask the next question, Dick
resolutely pushed on. The question had to be asked.
"Bruce, what *is* it?" Dick asked in a small voice. Then, in a stronger
voice, he asked again, "Bruce, what's the matter? I'm okay, Bruce . . .
look at me . . . I'm fine!" Dick gave his best lop-sided smile, his dark
blue eyes anxiously searching out his guardian's.
Wayne finally stood up in a fit of anger.
"NO! You're *not fine*!" he yelled. "You were almost killed last night!
Do you hear me? I almost lost you last night!" Wayne turned his back to
Dick, unable to look into those eyes that somehow always made him think
with his heart instead of his head.
"You disobeyed me last night! I ordered you to stay home . . . you were
obviously too sick to go out, but you stubbornly refused to listen!"
Swallowing and breathing several times, Wayne struggled to get himself
under control. He *had* to do this. No matter what the consequences . .
. his mind was made up. Dick Grayson was going to become a full-time
college student . . . no more Robin, *ever*!
One day Dick would inherit everything and take over Wayne Enterprises.
That's what sons did, didn't they? They grew up and took over the family
business . . . they didn't die before their fathers . . . fathers
weren't supposed to outlive their sons. Well, he'd be *damned* if
anything happened to keep his boy from growing up and getting married
and becoming a father and outliving the old man.
He *wouldn't* outlive his own son . . . God help him, he *would not*!
Wayne whirled around and faced Dick.
It was now or never.
Holding Dick's eyes steadily, Wayne started to talk. As he spoke, he
felt as if someone else was doing the talking. Who was this man who
would dare put that look of abject hurt and rejection in his boy's eyes?
Who was this stranger who was speaking so coldly, so relentlessly?
"You are never to wear the Robin suit again! Do I make myself clear? You
will become a full-time student at Gotham State University. On your
school holidays you'll begin to come to Wayne Enterprises and start
learning the business from the bottom up. You'll be taking it over one
day, and you have thousands of employees all over the world who'll
depend on you for their livelihood." He paused, and then gave the final
verdict.
"There will be no more Robin ever again. I can no longer . . . NO! I
*will no longer* be responsible for a child's safety anymore! Do I make
myself clear?" he waited for Dick to nod his head, yes. "Do you have any
questions?" Dick shook his head, no. "Good because I want you to give me
your word right now, that you will never again put on the Robin suit. Do
I have your word?"
Dick nodded. Wayne shook his head.
"NO! I want you to *say* it! Give me your word that you will never again
put on the Robin suit!"
Dick cleared his throat, unable to talk. He felt hot tears start to
spill, but he didn't care. His whole world was coming undone. The man
who had promised him all those years ago to always be there for him, no
matter what, was breaking his word and Dick's heart as well.
"I promise that I will never wear the Robin suit again," Dick managed to
croak somehow. Unable to look at the man whom he loved more than
anything else in the whole world, Dick turned his head away. When he
heard his bedroom door shut softly behind him, Dick suddenly felt the
tears spill uncontrollably. It was all over . . . everything!
Whether Dick liked it or not . . . it was . . . for Batman and Robin . .
.
The End.
####
Ninja11010
Dick Greyson isn't my favorite Robin (Tim is) this was STILL a good story.
Very good. I didn't even know YOU wrote it, I just clicked it because it said
"Batman & Robin" and it was a part 1 so I checked it out... :) Very nicely
done. Very nicely.
DJ