He was taking one of his late night walks through the fields and the more that Bruce thought about it, the more it realized that everything really changed when Dick came on board. Before the kid was around he could do whatever he wanted, stay out all night, take off at a moment’s notice, come and go as he pleased. There was none of those disapproving looks when one of his dated joined them for dinner or decided to skinny dip in one of the pools.
Then the kid moved in and was always hanging around, wanting attention, wanting approval, wanting, wanting, wanting…
Sure, he could be useful, but—what a pain in the ass. And the reactions from the Justice League; Christ, You’d have thought he’d thrown the kid into the lion’s den or some garbage like that. He—Dick—he was capable no matter how old he was and they just didn’t realize that. Of course as soon as he took on a sidekick, the rest of them jumped on the bandwagon—Arthur, Barry, Ollie, Diana—they all had their little helpers. Even Clark found some long lost cousin for God’s sake.
But lately…yeah, lately. Dick was a damn teenager now and it showed every time he opened his damn mouth; always demanding to voice his opinions about this and that, always wanting to know why they were doing something, always butting in with some damn suggestion. Pain in the ass.
It was his own fault for taking him in, sure, but if the kid hadn’t been the way he is…dammit. It was the kid. Robin—hotshit Boy Wonder blew it and that’s all there was to it. He’d done it on purpose.
He had.
And that night—the night Selina was killed. The more he went over it the more he realized that it was Dick’s fault.
He was still up on the roof; Dick was even closer to her than he was when she slipped on that ice. He could have reached her if he’d tried. He could have—he just didn’t. He could have saved her. He could have if he’d wanted to but he was jealous and he always had been. First he was jealous of Kathy Kane, then Vickie, the Talia, Silver and under it all he hated Selina because he knew she was the one who would last. The others…well, but Selina, she was different and he couldn’t stand that.
Fucking kid.
It was his fault. He could have saved her. He didn’t. He could have stopped her but she fell.
This couldn’t just pass. This was homicide. This was third degree murder. He could put the kid away for this.
But he wouldn’t.
He’d get his own back. The kid had damn well watch his back.
* * *
“Dick, you know better than to worry about Bruce. If anything happened to him we would have heard, you know the paps follow him all over. He probably just paid them off to leave him alone for a while.”
“And if something happened to Batman we would have heard from whoever was holding him, I know.”
Clark was doing his best to keep Dick’s spirits up but after almost six weeks without a word it was getting harder to believe that everything was all right. Even Bruce—who could be thoughtless regarding the people around him and who was practically the definition of stubborn, knew how many people were concerned about him. Hell, he’d never do anything to worry Dick—despite his demeanor and lack of showing his feelings, he worshiped the boy. “Tell you what, I’ll look again and see what I can find out, okay?”
“Sure, that would be great. Thanks, Clark.” It was said with about as little enthusiasm as you’d find. Clearly Dick was worried and starting to get scared. In fact Clark—Superman had already searched everywhere he could think of. He looked through all the major cities in the world, he’d checked every one of Bruce’s many homes and apartments. He’d even looked through the registration records of every hotel chain and through the guest books of every B and B and Inn he could think of.
He’d come up empty. Nothing, no one had seen him, there was no record of his credit cards being used or his accounts being accessed. Nothing.
Dick had searched as well, checking every airline worldwide, using every name he could think of that Bruce would try. He’d checked the numbered accounts, the secret stashes of money and hidden credit cards only he and Bruce knew about. He checked the safe houses they used, he checked with the private airlines and charters. He’d checked with shipping companies, boat rentals. He asked Garth to find out whatever he could.
Nothing.
He’d even checked to see if any police department in the country had hired anyone even vaguely resembling Bruce, if he’d started working for a Private Investigator. He checked to see if any jeeps matching the old one was bought or sold.
Nothing.
He’d simply disappeared and wouldn’t resurface until he was ready. He was Batman—he’d do what he wanted and he’d do it well.
It’s who he was; it was what he did.
* * *
“Tom, I’ve been meaning to ask you—do you think hat Bruce is getting a bit…intense?”
“I’ve noticed that, sure—why, does it bother you? I mean, he hasn’t done anything, has he?” He shifted his weight, standing there in the kitchen as Martha basted the chicken they’d be eating later. “He doesn’t scare you, does he?”
“Specifically, no, but he does get awfully focused sometimes. It’s like his mind is turning something over again and again; you’ve noticed that, haven’t you?”
“You know how these men are, they all have something they’re trying to work out. Usually when they’d got it figured out they leave, go back to wherever they came from. I suspect he’s getting ready for that.”
She closed the oven door. “I know he’s been a big help around here, but he’s starting to give me the creeps.”
“’You frightened? I’ll tell him to go if you are.”
She thought for a moment, weighing her feelings against Tom losing the farm help she knew he needed. “No, let’s wait a few days. Do you know where he is now?”
“He took off late last night; I heard the jeep pull out. He’s not back yet.”
* * *
Robin was still making his regular patrol, doing what he could to help and protect Gotham and occasionally asking various friends to help him out or just keep him company. Tonight Speedy was with him, hanging out and acting as a sounding board. Dick knew better than to listen t most of what he had to say but now and then he’d come out with an unexpected insight or observation, That was one of the things that most people didn’t realize about Roy—he actually was pretty smart under all the bull.
They were down at the docks, making sure that drug shipment was stopped with some backup from GCPD. Suddenly Roy looked around.
“What the fu…?”
“What?” They were both whispering. “You hear something?”
“’Caught something out of the corner of my eye—you see anything?”
Dick concentrated—nothing. He shook his head. “Pay attention, here comes the boat.” It was a speedboat, maybe a twenty-four footer and heavily loaded with packages of what was likely cocaine. “C’mon, let’s go.”
The cops were with them, along with ATF and some FBI guys. The bust was made easily without any gunfire of major resistance. IN pint of fact, the Titans weren’t even needed, but then you never knew and better that they were there and not needed.
A little disappointed by the anticlimax, the two teens decided to stop for some food on the way home. They headed for their cycles, Dick had finally convinced Roy that a custom Ninja was the way to go and they were having a little too much fun on the things. In the alley, behind the dumpster where they’d left them they stopped and stared.
Roy’s bike was fine and had even been moved a few feet away, apparently to keep it safe but Robin’s machine was doused with some kind of acid, still smoking and hissing as the tires, wiring and paint all dissolved.
“Jesus.” Roy just stared, the bike was toast. “Who did this?”
Dick eyes were on the machine, looking like he was almost in shock. “What?”
“You think this was one of the drug runners? We’ll question them, lean on them; they’ll talk, you know they will.” Roy was pissed; he was ready to rumble in Dick’s defense.
He shook his head. “No.”
“C’mon, you’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“You don’t understand, the druggies didn’t have anything to do with this. It was Batman.”
Roy snorted a laugh. “Yeah, and he’s in league with the devil, too. ‘You telling me he’s crossed over to the dark side of the force?” He stopped. “He’s around? I thought the deal was that he’s MIA.”
“Off hand I’d say he’s back.”
“Rob, seriously, how do you know? I mean it’s not like a lot of people wouldn’t like to torch you. I don’t see a calling card or anything here.”
“He’s been following me on and off during patrol for the last week. I didn’t say anything because I was hoping he’d let me talk to him and find out what he’s doing but he never let me get close enough.”
Roy contained himself for once. “And you kept this to yourself because why?”
“Because I thought I could talk to him, that’s why; back off.”
Roy, of course, did not such thing. “So where is he?”
Dick gave him a filthy look. “He’s probably gone back to wherever he’s holed up and he’ll be back when he wants to be.”
“But—work with me here. You knew he’s been bopping in and out of town for a while now and you didn’t ask Clark to help, you didn’t get a race on him and you didn’t even let Alfred know. Have I got this right?”
Dick’s patience was at an end. “You don’t understand; he’s gone into hiding for some reason, probably because of Catwoman’s death. He’s dealing with it and when he’s ready he’ll come back. Or he won’t and there’s nothing to be gained by forcing anything. I mean this is Batman we’re dealing with for God’s sake.”
Roy got on his bike and gestured for Robin to get on behind him. “Okay, fine, but I’d be a little concerned about the message he’s sending you.”
* * *
At five-thirty that morning Tom walked into Bruce’s room to wake him for milking. He looked exhausted but got up when asked. “You out late last night again?”
“’Couldn’t sleep. I’m fine.”