Robin's POV
"So, this is the Batcave?"
I heard a familiar voice say, and I missed a keystroke as I prepared to run the final diagnostic on the decryption system I was working on.
That voice.
"It's every bit as extravagant as I thought it'd be. Wait… do you have display cases for your costumes?"
No. No way.
I spun around, heart already climbing into my throat — and there he was. Julius. Dressed in a singed gas-station shirt, charred pants clinging to blistered skin. He looked like a walking medical emergency.
I winced. The burns were… bad. Face, arms, neck, legs. He looked like he'd been roasted over an open fire.
What the hell happened?
"I got burned," he snorted, like it was a joke. "Didn't come back from the dead."
"The Firefly attack," I stammered out, putting it together.
"He stopped it," Bruce supplied. "Saved the lives of those staying at the motel and apprehended him."
And yet there he was. Not even limping. Just standing there, like he wasn't missing most of his skin.
"Shame about the motel, though," Julius said, glancing at the Batboat and then the Batmobile. "You really do have bat-themed vehicles for every location," he said slowly. "I mean, you're a billionaire. Of course you do. I still can't believe nobody has put it together before now."
My fists bunched up just looking at him.
"Shouldn't he be at the hospital or something?"
"He refused," Bruce explained. "And apparently he doesn't need it."
"Yup," Julius said. "Just calories. Lots of it. Should be brand-spanking new soon enough."
You couldn't tell he was in agonizing pain by the sound of his voice.
"How?!" I demanded. "He's covered in third-degree burns. He shouldn't be conscious. Is just standing around like that even sanitary?"
"I've lived through worse," he said offhandedly, like this was just another Tuesday. "So, what does a guy gotta do to get some lunch around here?"
Alfred arrived not long after and led him upstairs. Julius walked like he didn't have half his skin trying to fall off. Didn't even flinch.
As soon as I was sure he was out of earshot, I turned to Bruce and hissed, "You cut me out of the mission, and you lead him down here?"
Bruce pulled off his cowl. "Under the house is the first place our enemies would look if the secret ever came out."
"He's the enemy," I jabbed a finger in the direction he left.
"He's also a kid who grew up desperate on the street who had to turn to a life of crime to support his family. He probably watched his friend die in front of him. And he's doing what he thinks he has to do to avenge his friend and keep his family safe," Bruce said.
I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Bruce's mouth.
"He's a killer, Bruce," I snapped. "Every bad guy in Gotham has some tragic backstory. It's no excuse."
"No," Bruce said. "But it's certainly a catalyst. Drugs, corruption, crime, a failing economy, and a broken justice system. All ample ingredients to create people like Julius. The only difference between him and the hundreds of other kids in the Narrows is power and opportunity. How much different would I or you be if we were in his shoes? His situation?"
I scowled.
"But we have been in his shoes. You tracked down the man who hurt your parents. And you helped me do the same…" I trailed off, memory bubbling to the surface. "He's made his choice over and over again… He's not sorry about it, Bruce."
Bruce nodded solemnly. "Yet he took those burns to save ten complete strangers from Firefly, and I know he could've ended that fight a lot sooner. You, of all people, know how great a shot he is."
Yeah. I know.
"He doesn't get brownie points for following your rules."
"He does when his life is in danger," Batman said. "I'm not letting him walk free, Dick. Not without fulfilling his part of the deal. I'm just showing him more consideration than most people ever have."
I crossed my arms. "Not everybody is sidekick material."
"The other Leaguers thought I was insane for letting an eight-year-old kid fight crime with me," Bruce said, and I looked away.
I can't believe he used that against me.
I huffed. He was right, of course. Plus, there was no changing his mind now that it was made up. "You might trust him," I said, "but I'm keeping my eye on him."
I turned back to the Batcomputer and ran a diagnostic on the spyware Julius would be planting in Penguin's system.
The idea was born out of sheer frustration and an intense desire not to go on a mission with him. I figured if we had everything we needed, we could close this case faster.
Of course, Bruce approved it.
It checked out. I pulled the flash drive. "It should work on most advanced systems," I said. "All he has to do is plug it in."
Bruce gave me that look. The one that told me he disapproved.
"I'm not certain now is the time to broach the topic."
"He's been hunted day and night, Penguin is about to hit the drug factory, and we need to understand their endgame. It might be too late if we push this off."
Bruce nodded, reluctantly. "I will make the request."
Strange, really. Me trying to reassure him. "He probably wants this more than we do."
Bruce only grunted.
Julius
Lunch at the Wayne residence was… well, weird. Fancy. Silent.
But worth it.
I tore into the food like it had personally offended me. Alfred was a godsend—quiet, proper, but the man knew how to cook. Meats. Steamed veggies. Even the potatoes tasted expensive.
"You're alright, butler dude," I grinned at him, dabbing my mouth clean with the napkin.
Bruce and Dick just watched. Like I was some puzzle they couldn't quite solve.
"Thank you, Master Julius. It's nice to have somebody appreciate my cooking."
"I tell you how good your cooking is at least once a week," Dick chimed in.
"And the gesture is appreciated," Alfred replied coolly. "I was talking about somebody else at the table."
Bruce didn't react to the jab. Instead, his eyes fixed on me. I saw calculation. Probing. Not just suspicion.
I knew that look. He wanted something.
"If you're going to ask me about how my powers work…" I began, but Robin cut in.
"You won't tell us even if we paid you."
He wasn't wrong. I smiled anyway.
He hated me. I could feel it in every word.
He'd be right to.
And yet… I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Alright, out with it," I sighed. "Ruin the rest of my day."
Bruce explained the plan, and I held up the drive. Sleek, black, practically invisible. All I had to do was plug it into one of Penguin's computers.
Easy. Right?
"If the hack is successful, we should have most of what Penguin has on Black Mask's organization, including the true identity of the leak."
"I know Thomas Blackwell," Bruce said. "He is many things, but careless and disloyal isn't one of them. I interrogated him myself the first time around and couldn't get him to turn on his boss."
"Greater men have been brought low by beautiful women," I replied easily. "Julius Caesar, half of the divorced elites of Gotham—need I go on?"
"No," Bruce clipped. "But don't underestimate Penguin. He didn't get this far by being careless."
Of course not. Nobody who survives in Gotham gets far without claws.
"Alright. I'll use it. See what is what. How long does it take to do what it needs to do?"
A pause.
I didn't like that pause.
"Ten seconds or five minutes. It really depends on the type of encryption and security they have."
I rubbed my forehead. Of course.
"And how do I get around the security cameras?"
"You don't. You just need to be skilled enough to escape their notice."
Robin's voice was neutral, but I could hear the challenge buried in it.
He wanted me to mess up.
He wanted proof that he was better than me.
That I didn't belong here.
I speared a sausage and chomped on it.
"Alright, hotshot," I said to him. "Show me what to do."
"What?" he blinked, confused.
I bet he didn't see that coming.
400 powerstones for 1 extra chapter.
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