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seriousfic) wrote2008-03-05 10:15 am
seriousfic) wrote2008-03-05 10:15 am
Entry tags:
Fic: The Boy Who Would Be Robin (Batman)
Title: The Boy Who Would Be Robin
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Batman
Word Count: 1,042
Summary: Someone wants to be Batman’s partner.
It was a night like any other. Business as unusual, as Dick would call it. But there wasn’t anything unusual about muggings, rapes, stabbings. Not in Gotham.
Batman was on his own that night. Robin was off showing Batgirl the ropes. Alfred’s idea, and Alfred’s insistence.
The silence was more profound without Dick’s company. Bruce didn’t know whether he liked that or not. But there were a few crimes he ran across that he was glad Robin didn’t have to see. They made no difference to him, though. He’d seen worse in Crime Alley.
A good rule of thumb in Gotham was that if someone was standing around on a rooftop at night, they were either trouble or a would-be vigilante, which meant they were both trouble and an annoyance. In this case, trouble was wearing a red coat over a green jacket, with a cardboard mask rubber-banded to his fuzzy head. The boy couldn’t have been older than ten. His skinny knees were knocking together beneath green swim trunks. Every inch of exposed skin was goosepimpled by the Gotham night. You were a lucky guy if that was the only kind of cold she left you. That kind could be cured by a warm fire, a parent’s embrace. Others never went away. Even in the fires of hell.
Batman landed nearby, making just enough noise to alert the boy but not to startle him. The boy turned around, wide-eyed with awe and fear. Batman neither drew up to his full height or dropped into a crouch. Instead, he relaxed his body language into a sort of slouch.
The boy, small for his age, came up to Batman’s thigh. He seemed torn between looking up at Batman and staring at his feet. Batman made it easier on him by lowering to one knee. His voice, when he spoke, was drained of the usual venoms and so was only quiet.
“It’s not safe out here. You’ll catch cold. Go back inside.”
“Where it’s safe?” the boy laughed. “Aren’t I safe with you?”
Batman thought of the fading bruise where Clayface had almost been too fast, of the stitches Robin had needed a week ago. “No.” He tried another tack. “You should be asleep. It’s a school night.”
“Can’t sleep. Nightmare,” the boy said matter-of-factly. Like what’re ya gonna do?
“What’re you scared of? Dreams can’t hurt you.”
The boy bit the webbing of his hand. Then stopped. “You have a kid sidekick, right?”
“Robin. He’s my partner.”
“Does he hafta go to school?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well, if he gets good grades, are you nice to him?”
Batman frowned.
“I mean, if he gets bad grades, do you yell at his mom?”
Batman looked closer at the boy. It was hard to tell in the dark and in the shadows the boy’s coat cast, but a black eye spoiled the pleasant youthfulness of his face. It was still plush with baby fat, but the eyes had aged further than the rest of his toothpick body. They reflected Gotham’s night, that bitch.
“Are you scared of your father?”
“I’m not afraid of anything! I’m a superhero!” He put all his heart into that word. “Do you need another partner? Not that you would ever want to replace Robin, course, but maybe if he wanted to take a night off, I could go out for him? Like an… like an understudy, kinda.”
Batman was shaking his head. “Robin has special training.”
“You could train me! I do real good in school… ‘cept in math.”
“Does your father get angry at your grades in math?”
“No, not…” the boy shied away from Batman’s gaze. “He gets upset. When he’s been drinking. He’s always sorry.”
“What’s his name?”
“You’d hurt him.”
“What’s your name?”
“I thought it could be Raptor. That flies.”
“Your real name.”
“Why do you need to know my real name? Can’t you just call me Raptor?”
“No.”
“I can change the name if you don’t like it.”
“You’re not going to be my partner.”
The boy wailed suddenly, tears running down his red cheeks like they were making up for lost time. “But you have to,” the boy said, sobs turning his voice into a skipping record player. Buh-buh-but. “If I go with you, I won’t be at home, and if I’m not at home than mom and dad won’t have anything to fight about!”
Batman didn’t say anything for a while. Then he reached into his utility belt and pulled out a chemical warmer. He activated it with a twist and handed it to the boy, who rubbed it up and down his legs. They could have been any boy’s legs. Too skinny yet for real muscle, knees healing from a skinning, white socks pushed down near tennis shoes. They could’ve been Dick’s legs. But they didn’t have the right tap to them, the twitch to run and jump and pedal.
“Tell me what your real name is.”
“If I do, you’ll use it to find my dad, and you’ll hurt him…”
“If I promise not to hurt him…”
“Because you only hurt bad people and he ain’t bad. He’s my daddy.”
The Gotham night was cold and the boy needed to get inside.
“I promise not to hurt your father.”
The boy shivered again. “My name’s Jay.”
***
Batman got home early that night. His heart just wasn’t in it. He showered and bandaged and as always he didn’t get clean and his wounds festered. Business as unusual. In the morning, he’d tell Gordon about Jay’s father. Right now, he felt too drained to talk or even sleep. All his weariness had frozen in him and would not flow out.
Robin had gotten home earlier. It was a school night and he needed his sleep. Alfred had let Dick bend the rules on costumes in the manor, for Dick had left his vest, cape, and shoes strewn on the floor with artless symmetry. Bruce picked them up, bunched them under one arm.
Since falling asleep, Dick had obviously had a nightmare. He’d kicked the covers off his bed in his distress. Bruce pulled them back on, wrapped Dick up in the sheets like they were armor.
Then he left to call Gordon.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Batman
Word Count: 1,042
Summary: Someone wants to be Batman’s partner.
It was a night like any other. Business as unusual, as Dick would call it. But there wasn’t anything unusual about muggings, rapes, stabbings. Not in Gotham.
Batman was on his own that night. Robin was off showing Batgirl the ropes. Alfred’s idea, and Alfred’s insistence.
The silence was more profound without Dick’s company. Bruce didn’t know whether he liked that or not. But there were a few crimes he ran across that he was glad Robin didn’t have to see. They made no difference to him, though. He’d seen worse in Crime Alley.
A good rule of thumb in Gotham was that if someone was standing around on a rooftop at night, they were either trouble or a would-be vigilante, which meant they were both trouble and an annoyance. In this case, trouble was wearing a red coat over a green jacket, with a cardboard mask rubber-banded to his fuzzy head. The boy couldn’t have been older than ten. His skinny knees were knocking together beneath green swim trunks. Every inch of exposed skin was goosepimpled by the Gotham night. You were a lucky guy if that was the only kind of cold she left you. That kind could be cured by a warm fire, a parent’s embrace. Others never went away. Even in the fires of hell.
Batman landed nearby, making just enough noise to alert the boy but not to startle him. The boy turned around, wide-eyed with awe and fear. Batman neither drew up to his full height or dropped into a crouch. Instead, he relaxed his body language into a sort of slouch.
The boy, small for his age, came up to Batman’s thigh. He seemed torn between looking up at Batman and staring at his feet. Batman made it easier on him by lowering to one knee. His voice, when he spoke, was drained of the usual venoms and so was only quiet.
“It’s not safe out here. You’ll catch cold. Go back inside.”
“Where it’s safe?” the boy laughed. “Aren’t I safe with you?”
Batman thought of the fading bruise where Clayface had almost been too fast, of the stitches Robin had needed a week ago. “No.” He tried another tack. “You should be asleep. It’s a school night.”
“Can’t sleep. Nightmare,” the boy said matter-of-factly. Like what’re ya gonna do?
“What’re you scared of? Dreams can’t hurt you.”
The boy bit the webbing of his hand. Then stopped. “You have a kid sidekick, right?”
“Robin. He’s my partner.”
“Does he hafta go to school?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, well, if he gets good grades, are you nice to him?”
Batman frowned.
“I mean, if he gets bad grades, do you yell at his mom?”
Batman looked closer at the boy. It was hard to tell in the dark and in the shadows the boy’s coat cast, but a black eye spoiled the pleasant youthfulness of his face. It was still plush with baby fat, but the eyes had aged further than the rest of his toothpick body. They reflected Gotham’s night, that bitch.
“Are you scared of your father?”
“I’m not afraid of anything! I’m a superhero!” He put all his heart into that word. “Do you need another partner? Not that you would ever want to replace Robin, course, but maybe if he wanted to take a night off, I could go out for him? Like an… like an understudy, kinda.”
Batman was shaking his head. “Robin has special training.”
“You could train me! I do real good in school… ‘cept in math.”
“Does your father get angry at your grades in math?”
“No, not…” the boy shied away from Batman’s gaze. “He gets upset. When he’s been drinking. He’s always sorry.”
“What’s his name?”
“You’d hurt him.”
“What’s your name?”
“I thought it could be Raptor. That flies.”
“Your real name.”
“Why do you need to know my real name? Can’t you just call me Raptor?”
“No.”
“I can change the name if you don’t like it.”
“You’re not going to be my partner.”
The boy wailed suddenly, tears running down his red cheeks like they were making up for lost time. “But you have to,” the boy said, sobs turning his voice into a skipping record player. Buh-buh-but. “If I go with you, I won’t be at home, and if I’m not at home than mom and dad won’t have anything to fight about!”
Batman didn’t say anything for a while. Then he reached into his utility belt and pulled out a chemical warmer. He activated it with a twist and handed it to the boy, who rubbed it up and down his legs. They could have been any boy’s legs. Too skinny yet for real muscle, knees healing from a skinning, white socks pushed down near tennis shoes. They could’ve been Dick’s legs. But they didn’t have the right tap to them, the twitch to run and jump and pedal.
“Tell me what your real name is.”
“If I do, you’ll use it to find my dad, and you’ll hurt him…”
“If I promise not to hurt him…”
“Because you only hurt bad people and he ain’t bad. He’s my daddy.”
The Gotham night was cold and the boy needed to get inside.
“I promise not to hurt your father.”
The boy shivered again. “My name’s Jay.”
***
Batman got home early that night. His heart just wasn’t in it. He showered and bandaged and as always he didn’t get clean and his wounds festered. Business as unusual. In the morning, he’d tell Gordon about Jay’s father. Right now, he felt too drained to talk or even sleep. All his weariness had frozen in him and would not flow out.
Robin had gotten home earlier. It was a school night and he needed his sleep. Alfred had let Dick bend the rules on costumes in the manor, for Dick had left his vest, cape, and shoes strewn on the floor with artless symmetry. Bruce picked them up, bunched them under one arm.
Since falling asleep, Dick had obviously had a nightmare. He’d kicked the covers off his bed in his distress. Bruce pulled them back on, wrapped Dick up in the sheets like they were armor.
Then he left to call Gordon.
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this was amazing. I... I really want more. May I beg?
Wow, this was just... gah.
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I loved it.
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Oh....