I do not own Bruce Wayne, Dick Greyson, or their vigilante identities Batman and Robin.

This story is for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained.

Since I am frozen in indecision with my other Batman story, I decided to post this one, which takes place some years after "Night Watch."

"So Batman, what do you want me to do?"

Ten-year-old Dick Greyson whispered this while leaning closer to his mentor. His muscles tensed. His fingers and toes gripped the rooftop wall he was perched upon. "Robin" readied himself to spring into action at Batman's command.

The older vigilante watched their targets through binoculars. He remained still as a statue while his partner trembled in anticipation. His voice remained level and soft. "Stay here and watch the door. When one of them tries to escape, tail him. If he gets into a car, plant a tracer on it. Then wait for me to catch up."

"Heh-heh. Good one. So, what do you 'really' want me to do?"

Batman lowered the binoculars and turned his stare upon Dick.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh . . . come on!"

"Stay. Here."

Dick's face creased in a pout.

. . .

Dick grudgingly performed the simple tasks Batman gave him, for a while. Frustration boiled in his stomach, though. Impulsivity buzzed in his brain. His muscles tightened in self-restraint so much, they never fully relaxed during those weeks. Batman later realized the explosion was inevitable.

. . .

Dick panted as he pelted along rooftops. Sweat flew off him as he leapt from one building to another. He was chasing the robber who'd gotten away from Batman.

The man had pulled a gun and grabbed a hostage. So Robin's mentor, not wanting to put the hostage's life in danger, had let the bad-guy go. Batman had known his protege would follow.

When the gunman darted out the door, not knowing backup was waiting outside, Robin sprang into action with a smile. He was grateful for any action. That is, he was always grateful for it in the moment. After it was over, and another long stretch of doing nothing came along, his frustration and bitterness came back to gnaw at him again.

As Robin continued "this" chase, his smile became a scowl. He was used to chasing bad guys by now. This one, though, was yanking a hostage along by her wrist. Seeing a lady treated like that ticked Dick off. He thought of his mother and aunt, and how he would have felt if someone had done that to them.

His orders were to chase not confront. Robin knew this. "However," the current situation was unprecedented and unmentioned. Surely, he could then act in an unprecedented and unmentioned way.

Robin shot his grappling hook onto a building across the street and jumped. He swung toward the fleeing suspect aiming his feet at the man's back. Before he was halfway there, the suspect turned and saw him.

The man paused in his flight. His jaw clenched. He raised his gun, took aim, and fired.

Robin's eyes went wide. His mind and body were stunned at the sensation radiating through them. He'd never felt it before in his short life.

His hands went lax. The line slipped from his fingers. Batman saw him fall from a rooftop yards away. "ROBIN!"

The boy landed on his back atop a parked car. The shooter turned to run again. Batman threw a batarang. The projectile smacked the criminal in the back of his head.

Experiencing the same kind of shock as his victim, the gunman's hands went lax. He let go of his weapon and hostage's arm before falling on his face.

The woman turned with wide open eyes and mouth. "IS HE DEAD?!"

Batman landed on the car next to the sprawled form of his ward. There were no bullet holes in the head or chest, but Dick was bleeding from something between a gash and a scratch just above the temple. While the bullet had only grazed him, Robin hadn't gotten his breath back from the landing. It had dented the car-roof slightly.

He gazed up wide-eyed and gasping. Batman grabbed his arm and pulled the boy into a sitting position. Robin sucked in a breath and spoke. "Ow!" He glanced into Batman's face and froze. The vigilante's jaw looked like a marble between his teeth would split in two.

I dedicate this chapter to Sophia the Scribe who encouraged me to post this story.

If you liked this chapter, tell me. If not, tell me how to improve it. :)

God Bless

ScribeofHeroes