Chapter 11 - Cool
When we finally pulled into the Batcave, I dragged myself out of the Batmobile. Batman tugged off his cowl and became Bruce again, his hair sweaty as it always was under the tight mask.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot, suddenly aware of all the coffee I had drunk earlier. I was surprised that I hadn't peed all over myself with all the explosions and fighting.
"What?" Bruce barked at me.
"I gotta go," I whined.
"Thirty seconds," Bruce pointed to the bathroom off the cave. "Thirty, twenty-nine –"
I dashed to the bathroom and shut the door. I came back at second number three, feeling much better, but Bruce looked ever more upset. He clamped a hand on my shoulder, digging his fingers in, and ordered, "Move it."
"Where are we going?" I asked nervously.
"To set you straight," Bruce snarled.
He kept hold of me as we rode up the elevator, and then he marched me up the stairs. I could hear him breathing hard, angry breaths the longer we walked, and I wished I could figure out a way to make this all go away. One day I was going to find a way to calm Bruce down when he got mad at me, but until then, I had to be dragged around the manor and blamed for everything.
Bruce went right up to Alfred's closed door and banged on the wood.
"Alfred," he bellowed out.
A moment of silence, and then Alfred replied, "Master Bruce? Is that you, sir?"
"Yes, can I come in?"
The door pulled open, and a very worried Alfred looked out, dressed in pajamas and a robe. "What's wrong, sir? Are you hurt? Master Dick, is he all right?"
"We're fine," Bruce told him. "Dick, here, told me something very interesting. Tell him what you told me."
I shied away, trying to turn back against Bruce, but he pushed me forward and ordered, "Tell him."
I hated Bruce right then, hated everything about him. Him and his yelling and demanding and making people face problems instead of hide from them like everyone should do. Anyone else would have waited until morning and then sat us both down and calmly explained everything. But no, freakin' Batman had to confront freakin' everybody.
"I - I said that you – you," I glanced up at Bruce. He looked right back at me, furious, his face hard as iron. "You don't like me," I confessed, dropping my gaze to the floor.
"Excuse me?" Alfred asked, but his tone was confused, not angry.
"He said that you don't like him," Bruce confirmed, his fingers digging deeper into my shoulder.
"I heard you talking one night," I protested when Alfred said nothing. "I heard you talking to Bruce and you said I was nothing but trouble," I glared at Bruce. "And then Alfred said that he had asked you if you wanted to keep me when I first came here. Then Alfred said he didn't like me."
"He never said that," Bruce argued. "I was talking to him, and I know he never said that."
"I know he said that – I heard him," I protested.
"I remember that night," Alfred nodded slowly. "After the – um – birds and the bees talk. I reminded Master Bruce of what I told him when Master Dick first came to us. Master Bruce remembered what I said, so I did not say the words aloud. Should I say them now?"
"No," I protested before I could stop myself.
"Tell him," Bruce commanded.
"You arrived, a child grieving from the deaths of his parents, and Master Bruce wanted to keep you. On the evening of your second day here, I made Master Bruce sit down and listen to what I had to say. I reminded him that he chose the life of a crime-fighting vigilante. Along with Batman, he was also Bruce Wayne, a powerful leader of Gotham who had responsibilities to his business and his comapny. I asked him if he thought he could add the role of guardian to his life. I told him point-blank that I would not be responsible for the welfare of the child and that he must fulfill his role of guardian. If at any time he began to slip from the overwhelming pressure of all his duties, he would have to choose between giving up Batman or Wayne Enterprises, but he could never, ever neglect his ward. You would always come first."
I had nothing to say so I just stared at him.
"I told Master Bruce that he must learn to step in the role of parent and once he did he could not stop. I told him to think long and hard if he was ready to become a father for all intents and purposes because once he decided to keep you, I would never allow him to recant on that decision. He chose to let you stay, and I have only had to remind of his duty to you three times since that night."
"I'm sorry," I said in a rush. "I sorry I thought that. It's just that – I know sometimes I screw up and you get mad and –"
"You are only thirteen," Alfred interrupted. "I must have patience with you as must Master Bruce. But you are quite a remarkable young man, and I am thankfully every single day that Master Bruce decided to let you stay. I can't imagine Wayne Manor without you."
I smiled, so happy and warm inside. Alfred liked me – wanted me to be there. I had never felt better. I turned to look at Bruce, to see if he felt warm and cozy like me.
"You doubted Alfred!" Bruce roared at me. "After all he has done, after all the sacrifices he made, you decided to get all sulky and moody because you misunderstood something he said when you were eavesdropping!"
"But I –"
"You don't ever doubt Alfred!" Bruce grew even louder. "You can hate me, pout and sulk, and stomp around here mad at me all you like, but you don't ever, ever doubt Alfred. Never!"
Before I could object, Bruce dragged me across the room to the lone chair in Alfred's tidy room. Bruce sat down and yanked me over his lap.
"I'll teach you to think badly about those who had done so much for you," Bruce snarled. I could feel him pull his arm back high to smack me, and I groaned in dread. "I'm going to spank the sullenness out of you if it's the last thing I do. You better shape up, Richard, or so help me, I'll –"
"Master Bruce," Alfred interrupted loudly.
I craned my head to look at Alfred, and I felt Bruce freeze.
"Put him down," Alfred ordered.
"What?" Bruce asked.
"It's three-thirty in the morning," Alfred's voice was hard and no-nonsense. "I was up to one, waiting to see if you needed any help. We are all tired and overwrought and need sleep. Put Master Greyson down and both of you leave my room and go to bed."
"But Alfred –" Bruce began, but Alfred stalked over to us.
"Let him up. I can't believe that you would interrupt my much-needed sleep to barge in here and upset the child more just to make a point. Between Mr. Wayne's work and Batman's night life, we barely have enough time for a decent night of sleep." Alfred grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up to stand straight.
I glanced nervously between the two of them. Alfred had never defied Bruce, not that I had seen. Could Alfred defy Bruce? Alfred kind of worked for Bruce, but Bruce kind of thought about him like I thought about Bruce.
"He needs to be set straight," Bruce pointed at me. "He needs a lesson to change his attitude."
"Then ground him."
"He's already grounded," Bruce growled. "I've taken away the TV, the video games, the computer – I've spanked him twice in the last week. What else can I do?"
"You can learn that you can't control everything," Alfred pushed Bruce out of the chair and began herding us to the door. "Batman was meant to be a symbol to inspire people, not a dictator of teenagers."
"I know I'm right," Bruce groused as we all trudged down the hallway. "He's out of control."
"You're both out of control," Alfred snapped. "It's not enough that I cook and clean and wash and drive and play doctor to your injuries and serve as control man to your missions – now I have to play counselor as well in the middle of the night."
He stopped by Bruce's room and pointed to the open doorway. "Take off that ridiculous suit and go to bed."
"But I need to run a test on the car and then–"
"Master Wayne!" Alfred was adamant.
"This isn't over," Bruce promised me with a stern look before he went into his room and shut the door.
"Thanks," I told Alfred.
"Don't start thanking me," Alfred frowned. "I agree with Master Bruce that you have been showing quite a bit of cheek and attitude lately. You may be a teenager, but that is no excuse to make everyone else miserable. So you think about how you can change yourself for the better. Now in bed right now. And for goodness's sake, take off that mask."
I removed the mask from my face and then Alfred pushed me towards my room. He kept after me until I changed into pajamas and then he stood by impatiently until I got into bed.
"He was mad that I had so much coffee," I offered in a small voice. "You both gave me a cup."
"Yes, well, that's hardly a good reason to go about driving him into a temper. Go to sleep," Alfred insisted. "And tomorrow morning, don't bother Master Bruce until at least ten o'clock."
He went to the door and turned off the light. He paused in the doorway and said, "And regardless of what anyone says, you aren't nearly half the trouble Master Bruce was at your age. Not even close."
"Really?" I peered over the top of my warm covers to look at him.
"At least you take your punishments stoically. He used to wail that he missed his parents every time I gave him a reproving look. The first time I grounded him, he yelled that his parents would never ground him and proceeded to break most of the china in the dining room. Such a handful. Good night, young sir."
"Good night, Alfred," I smiled as I snuggled down into my bed.
In the darkness, I fought off sleepiness long to gather my thoughts together. Alfred wasn't mad at me, and he had actually stopped Bruce from punishing me. That had to be a world record or something – someone stopping Bruce Wayne from doing anything that he set out to do. I didn't think I deserved to be spanked, but I didn't usually get a choice. I never expected Alfred to stop Bruce or do anything other than stand there and watch me suffer pain and humiliation.
I loved Alfred. I wasn't really sure about Bruce – he had his good points, I guess.
As I fell asleep, my last thought was that I had both Bruce and Alfred to care about me while the stupid Riddler was all alone in Arkham.
I slept pretty late and rolled out of bed just to trip over my green and red clothes, shoes, and mask on the floor. I stumbled into the bathroom – I looked awful in the mirror with my face all pale and my hair sticking up. I took a shower just because I knew someone would tell me to take one, and then I got dressed and ran down to the kitchen. No one was there, so I grabbed the box of Pop Tarts. I ripped open one double pack and put them in the toaster, but I was too hungry to wait so I tore into another pack and ate them cold while I waited for the toaster to finish.
I was eating the hot Pop Tarts when Alfred came into the kitchen. Of course, I had left both wrappers on the counter so he gave me a stern look and threw the wrappers away.
"No more sugar," he told me.
"Where's Bruce?" I asked as I watched him pour out a glass of cold milk.
"He's working down in the cave," Alfred put the milk before me. "He wants you to get your homework. Then you need to go down and talk to him."
It felt weird to have him not mad at me. I had gotten used to someone being ticked off, and now it was like the last week had not happened.
I got some homework done, and then I went in search of Bruce.
When I got into the elevator, I could hear the rock music playing in the Batcave. It was loud, obnoxious, and heavy on the drums which made the cave vibrate slightly. I grinned. Bruce was welding. He always played rock music when he welded.
Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, I saw him bending over a table with a metal faceguard over his face and a huge blowtorch that roared blue fire and bright yellow sparks. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt and leather gloves, and he kept moving the blowtorch over pieces of metal on the table.
He paused and turned towards me. I swear sometimes that Bruce really does have superhearing – I can never sneak up on him, even with rock music blaring.
He turned off the blow torch and reached over to turn down the music. As the Batcave grew quiet, I braced myself for a lecture.
"Hey," he lifted the faceguard, "do you get enough sleep?"
I nodded, not knowing what to do with my arms as I stood there.
"Okay, mind handing me that sheet of metal over there?" he pointed to the work space at the back of the cave.
"Sure," I went to get it.
"There's a pair of gloves over there. Put them on and you can help," Bruce pulled down his mask and resumed welding.
I had no idea of what was going on. Bruce being nice and pretending like nothing had happened last night? It was weird, but I wasn't going to push my luck. I wondered if Alfred had talked with him before I got up, but again I wasn't brave enough to ask.
We worked with the metal for an hour, Bruce maneuvering the welder while I held the thick metal in different positions. I wanted to use the welder, but as I had no idea what he was making, I didn't ask. Sometimes Bruce starts out to make something and you have no idea what it is and you help him and suddenly you realize he's making new ribbing for the Batwings or four-edged Batarangs that can whip though glass and metal as they spin around.
This time I had no idea as he kept twisting and turning the metal.
"What is it?" I finally blurted out. "I still can't figure out."
He chuckled under the mask. "It's a surprise."
"Aw, Bruce," I sighed. "Can't you give me a hint?"
"Okay," he paused. "It's a way to let a bird fly on the ground."
Riddles – I hate them.
He laughed at my expression. "Tell you what. Go train for two hours and let me work. Then I'll tell you."
"Can I use the trapeze?"
"Only with the net. I don't want to hear a thud and look over there to see you flat on the ground."
"Fine," I ran down the stairs to the lower level of the Batcave and began pulling out the net. Above me, Bruce turned up the music and AC/DC blasted through the Batcave. I love it when Bruce plays rock music and doesn't get all worked up about the bad lyrics or stuff like that. A few songs even had swear words, but Bruce ignores them and keeps working.
As I started climbing up to the top of the trapeze, I thought about just how cool we were. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson – Batman and Robin. We were awesome, total badass cool. Villains hated us and everyone else wanted to be us.
As "All Night Long" pulsed through the cave, I ran off the long board and soared through the air before I caught the swinging bar. I swung down and then did two flips before grabbing the next bar. I like to swing through the air – it reminds me of my parents and how much I miss them, but at the same time I also know how much I like living with Bruce and being his sidekick. One day I'll be as good a crime-fighter as he is, but for now I'll just live in Batman's shadow and enjoy it.
I swung a dozen more times, even letting myself drop just for fun. The net caught me, but I saw Bruce turn his head my way to make sure I was okay.
"I'm fine," I called to him over the music. "Sometimes it's more fun to fall."
He turned back to his work without a word. I loved him this morning – totally not all controlling and lecturing and, well, Bruce-like. Why couldn't he be this cool all the time?
After my arms started to hurt from swinging, I did a hundred push-ups and a hundred sit-ups – not my favorite exercises, but ones that Bruce like me to do. Then I ran three miles on the treadmill, humming along to the rock music and going faster and faster until my legs ached.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
I turned off the treadmill to see Bruce walking towards me, with the metal faceguard and gloves off. I got off, wondering what he was going to say.
"Come on," he jerked his head towards the other side of the cave. "You can see it now."
I walked beside towards the back of the cave, wondering what he had made. Bruce's inventions are usually cool, but he's never been this mysterious about them before.
"It's not done," he cautioned. "Probably won't be done for a week, and Alfred's going to take my head off, but – well, you know."
He looked very careless of all rules right then, and I wondered if this was what Bruce was like as a teenager – reckless, fearless and a real badass.
"What do you think?" he pointed to a stand where his latest invention stood.
It was crude, twisted metal and two wheels, but it looked kind of like a –
"Motorcycle?" I guessed. "Are – are you building another Batpod?"
"It'll be a little like the Batpod," he nodded. "But it's more like a motorcycle."
"Kind of small for you – the Batpod is bigger," I noted.
"Yeah," he seemed to be smiling, amused at something I could not see. "It'll be painted black, but with touches of red and green."
"Huh?" I blinked.
He finally smiled. "What do you think? Is Robin ready for his own ride?"
"Me?" my eyes went wide.
"Yeah, it's for you. Something for you to ride alongside the Batmobile. Think you're ready to have your own motorcycle?"
I shifted my weight from foot to foot, suddenly aware of all the coffee I had drunk earlier. I was surprised that I hadn't peed all over myself with all the explosions and fighting.
"What?" Bruce barked at me.
"I gotta go," I whined.
"Thirty seconds," Bruce pointed to the bathroom off the cave. "Thirty, twenty-nine –"
I dashed to the bathroom and shut the door. I came back at second number three, feeling much better, but Bruce looked ever more upset. He clamped a hand on my shoulder, digging his fingers in, and ordered, "Move it."
"Where are we going?" I asked nervously.
"To set you straight," Bruce snarled.
He kept hold of me as we rode up the elevator, and then he marched me up the stairs. I could hear him breathing hard, angry breaths the longer we walked, and I wished I could figure out a way to make this all go away. One day I was going to find a way to calm Bruce down when he got mad at me, but until then, I had to be dragged around the manor and blamed for everything.
Bruce went right up to Alfred's closed door and banged on the wood.
"Alfred," he bellowed out.
A moment of silence, and then Alfred replied, "Master Bruce? Is that you, sir?"
"Yes, can I come in?"
The door pulled open, and a very worried Alfred looked out, dressed in pajamas and a robe. "What's wrong, sir? Are you hurt? Master Dick, is he all right?"
"We're fine," Bruce told him. "Dick, here, told me something very interesting. Tell him what you told me."
I shied away, trying to turn back against Bruce, but he pushed me forward and ordered, "Tell him."
I hated Bruce right then, hated everything about him. Him and his yelling and demanding and making people face problems instead of hide from them like everyone should do. Anyone else would have waited until morning and then sat us both down and calmly explained everything. But no, freakin' Batman had to confront freakin' everybody.
"I - I said that you – you," I glanced up at Bruce. He looked right back at me, furious, his face hard as iron. "You don't like me," I confessed, dropping my gaze to the floor.
"Excuse me?" Alfred asked, but his tone was confused, not angry.
"He said that you don't like him," Bruce confirmed, his fingers digging deeper into my shoulder.
"I heard you talking one night," I protested when Alfred said nothing. "I heard you talking to Bruce and you said I was nothing but trouble," I glared at Bruce. "And then Alfred said that he had asked you if you wanted to keep me when I first came here. Then Alfred said he didn't like me."
"He never said that," Bruce argued. "I was talking to him, and I know he never said that."
"I know he said that – I heard him," I protested.
"I remember that night," Alfred nodded slowly. "After the – um – birds and the bees talk. I reminded Master Bruce of what I told him when Master Dick first came to us. Master Bruce remembered what I said, so I did not say the words aloud. Should I say them now?"
"No," I protested before I could stop myself.
"Tell him," Bruce commanded.
"You arrived, a child grieving from the deaths of his parents, and Master Bruce wanted to keep you. On the evening of your second day here, I made Master Bruce sit down and listen to what I had to say. I reminded him that he chose the life of a crime-fighting vigilante. Along with Batman, he was also Bruce Wayne, a powerful leader of Gotham who had responsibilities to his business and his comapny. I asked him if he thought he could add the role of guardian to his life. I told him point-blank that I would not be responsible for the welfare of the child and that he must fulfill his role of guardian. If at any time he began to slip from the overwhelming pressure of all his duties, he would have to choose between giving up Batman or Wayne Enterprises, but he could never, ever neglect his ward. You would always come first."
I had nothing to say so I just stared at him.
"I told Master Bruce that he must learn to step in the role of parent and once he did he could not stop. I told him to think long and hard if he was ready to become a father for all intents and purposes because once he decided to keep you, I would never allow him to recant on that decision. He chose to let you stay, and I have only had to remind of his duty to you three times since that night."
"I'm sorry," I said in a rush. "I sorry I thought that. It's just that – I know sometimes I screw up and you get mad and –"
"You are only thirteen," Alfred interrupted. "I must have patience with you as must Master Bruce. But you are quite a remarkable young man, and I am thankfully every single day that Master Bruce decided to let you stay. I can't imagine Wayne Manor without you."
I smiled, so happy and warm inside. Alfred liked me – wanted me to be there. I had never felt better. I turned to look at Bruce, to see if he felt warm and cozy like me.
"You doubted Alfred!" Bruce roared at me. "After all he has done, after all the sacrifices he made, you decided to get all sulky and moody because you misunderstood something he said when you were eavesdropping!"
"But I –"
"You don't ever doubt Alfred!" Bruce grew even louder. "You can hate me, pout and sulk, and stomp around here mad at me all you like, but you don't ever, ever doubt Alfred. Never!"
Before I could object, Bruce dragged me across the room to the lone chair in Alfred's tidy room. Bruce sat down and yanked me over his lap.
"I'll teach you to think badly about those who had done so much for you," Bruce snarled. I could feel him pull his arm back high to smack me, and I groaned in dread. "I'm going to spank the sullenness out of you if it's the last thing I do. You better shape up, Richard, or so help me, I'll –"
"Master Bruce," Alfred interrupted loudly.
I craned my head to look at Alfred, and I felt Bruce freeze.
"Put him down," Alfred ordered.
"What?" Bruce asked.
"It's three-thirty in the morning," Alfred's voice was hard and no-nonsense. "I was up to one, waiting to see if you needed any help. We are all tired and overwrought and need sleep. Put Master Greyson down and both of you leave my room and go to bed."
"But Alfred –" Bruce began, but Alfred stalked over to us.
"Let him up. I can't believe that you would interrupt my much-needed sleep to barge in here and upset the child more just to make a point. Between Mr. Wayne's work and Batman's night life, we barely have enough time for a decent night of sleep." Alfred grabbed my shoulders and pulled me up to stand straight.
I glanced nervously between the two of them. Alfred had never defied Bruce, not that I had seen. Could Alfred defy Bruce? Alfred kind of worked for Bruce, but Bruce kind of thought about him like I thought about Bruce.
"He needs to be set straight," Bruce pointed at me. "He needs a lesson to change his attitude."
"Then ground him."
"He's already grounded," Bruce growled. "I've taken away the TV, the video games, the computer – I've spanked him twice in the last week. What else can I do?"
"You can learn that you can't control everything," Alfred pushed Bruce out of the chair and began herding us to the door. "Batman was meant to be a symbol to inspire people, not a dictator of teenagers."
"I know I'm right," Bruce groused as we all trudged down the hallway. "He's out of control."
"You're both out of control," Alfred snapped. "It's not enough that I cook and clean and wash and drive and play doctor to your injuries and serve as control man to your missions – now I have to play counselor as well in the middle of the night."
He stopped by Bruce's room and pointed to the open doorway. "Take off that ridiculous suit and go to bed."
"But I need to run a test on the car and then–"
"Master Wayne!" Alfred was adamant.
"This isn't over," Bruce promised me with a stern look before he went into his room and shut the door.
"Thanks," I told Alfred.
"Don't start thanking me," Alfred frowned. "I agree with Master Bruce that you have been showing quite a bit of cheek and attitude lately. You may be a teenager, but that is no excuse to make everyone else miserable. So you think about how you can change yourself for the better. Now in bed right now. And for goodness's sake, take off that mask."
I removed the mask from my face and then Alfred pushed me towards my room. He kept after me until I changed into pajamas and then he stood by impatiently until I got into bed.
"He was mad that I had so much coffee," I offered in a small voice. "You both gave me a cup."
"Yes, well, that's hardly a good reason to go about driving him into a temper. Go to sleep," Alfred insisted. "And tomorrow morning, don't bother Master Bruce until at least ten o'clock."
He went to the door and turned off the light. He paused in the doorway and said, "And regardless of what anyone says, you aren't nearly half the trouble Master Bruce was at your age. Not even close."
"Really?" I peered over the top of my warm covers to look at him.
"At least you take your punishments stoically. He used to wail that he missed his parents every time I gave him a reproving look. The first time I grounded him, he yelled that his parents would never ground him and proceeded to break most of the china in the dining room. Such a handful. Good night, young sir."
"Good night, Alfred," I smiled as I snuggled down into my bed.
In the darkness, I fought off sleepiness long to gather my thoughts together. Alfred wasn't mad at me, and he had actually stopped Bruce from punishing me. That had to be a world record or something – someone stopping Bruce Wayne from doing anything that he set out to do. I didn't think I deserved to be spanked, but I didn't usually get a choice. I never expected Alfred to stop Bruce or do anything other than stand there and watch me suffer pain and humiliation.
I loved Alfred. I wasn't really sure about Bruce – he had his good points, I guess.
As I fell asleep, my last thought was that I had both Bruce and Alfred to care about me while the stupid Riddler was all alone in Arkham.
I slept pretty late and rolled out of bed just to trip over my green and red clothes, shoes, and mask on the floor. I stumbled into the bathroom – I looked awful in the mirror with my face all pale and my hair sticking up. I took a shower just because I knew someone would tell me to take one, and then I got dressed and ran down to the kitchen. No one was there, so I grabbed the box of Pop Tarts. I ripped open one double pack and put them in the toaster, but I was too hungry to wait so I tore into another pack and ate them cold while I waited for the toaster to finish.
I was eating the hot Pop Tarts when Alfred came into the kitchen. Of course, I had left both wrappers on the counter so he gave me a stern look and threw the wrappers away.
"No more sugar," he told me.
"Where's Bruce?" I asked as I watched him pour out a glass of cold milk.
"He's working down in the cave," Alfred put the milk before me. "He wants you to get your homework. Then you need to go down and talk to him."
It felt weird to have him not mad at me. I had gotten used to someone being ticked off, and now it was like the last week had not happened.
I got some homework done, and then I went in search of Bruce.
When I got into the elevator, I could hear the rock music playing in the Batcave. It was loud, obnoxious, and heavy on the drums which made the cave vibrate slightly. I grinned. Bruce was welding. He always played rock music when he welded.
Sure enough, as I rounded the corner, I saw him bending over a table with a metal faceguard over his face and a huge blowtorch that roared blue fire and bright yellow sparks. He was wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt and leather gloves, and he kept moving the blowtorch over pieces of metal on the table.
He paused and turned towards me. I swear sometimes that Bruce really does have superhearing – I can never sneak up on him, even with rock music blaring.
He turned off the blow torch and reached over to turn down the music. As the Batcave grew quiet, I braced myself for a lecture.
"Hey," he lifted the faceguard, "do you get enough sleep?"
I nodded, not knowing what to do with my arms as I stood there.
"Okay, mind handing me that sheet of metal over there?" he pointed to the work space at the back of the cave.
"Sure," I went to get it.
"There's a pair of gloves over there. Put them on and you can help," Bruce pulled down his mask and resumed welding.
I had no idea of what was going on. Bruce being nice and pretending like nothing had happened last night? It was weird, but I wasn't going to push my luck. I wondered if Alfred had talked with him before I got up, but again I wasn't brave enough to ask.
We worked with the metal for an hour, Bruce maneuvering the welder while I held the thick metal in different positions. I wanted to use the welder, but as I had no idea what he was making, I didn't ask. Sometimes Bruce starts out to make something and you have no idea what it is and you help him and suddenly you realize he's making new ribbing for the Batwings or four-edged Batarangs that can whip though glass and metal as they spin around.
This time I had no idea as he kept twisting and turning the metal.
"What is it?" I finally blurted out. "I still can't figure out."
He chuckled under the mask. "It's a surprise."
"Aw, Bruce," I sighed. "Can't you give me a hint?"
"Okay," he paused. "It's a way to let a bird fly on the ground."
Riddles – I hate them.
He laughed at my expression. "Tell you what. Go train for two hours and let me work. Then I'll tell you."
"Can I use the trapeze?"
"Only with the net. I don't want to hear a thud and look over there to see you flat on the ground."
"Fine," I ran down the stairs to the lower level of the Batcave and began pulling out the net. Above me, Bruce turned up the music and AC/DC blasted through the Batcave. I love it when Bruce plays rock music and doesn't get all worked up about the bad lyrics or stuff like that. A few songs even had swear words, but Bruce ignores them and keeps working.
As I started climbing up to the top of the trapeze, I thought about just how cool we were. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson – Batman and Robin. We were awesome, total badass cool. Villains hated us and everyone else wanted to be us.
As "All Night Long" pulsed through the cave, I ran off the long board and soared through the air before I caught the swinging bar. I swung down and then did two flips before grabbing the next bar. I like to swing through the air – it reminds me of my parents and how much I miss them, but at the same time I also know how much I like living with Bruce and being his sidekick. One day I'll be as good a crime-fighter as he is, but for now I'll just live in Batman's shadow and enjoy it.
I swung a dozen more times, even letting myself drop just for fun. The net caught me, but I saw Bruce turn his head my way to make sure I was okay.
"I'm fine," I called to him over the music. "Sometimes it's more fun to fall."
He turned back to his work without a word. I loved him this morning – totally not all controlling and lecturing and, well, Bruce-like. Why couldn't he be this cool all the time?
After my arms started to hurt from swinging, I did a hundred push-ups and a hundred sit-ups – not my favorite exercises, but ones that Bruce like me to do. Then I ran three miles on the treadmill, humming along to the rock music and going faster and faster until my legs ached.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
I turned off the treadmill to see Bruce walking towards me, with the metal faceguard and gloves off. I got off, wondering what he was going to say.
"Come on," he jerked his head towards the other side of the cave. "You can see it now."
I walked beside towards the back of the cave, wondering what he had made. Bruce's inventions are usually cool, but he's never been this mysterious about them before.
"It's not done," he cautioned. "Probably won't be done for a week, and Alfred's going to take my head off, but – well, you know."
He looked very careless of all rules right then, and I wondered if this was what Bruce was like as a teenager – reckless, fearless and a real badass.
"What do you think?" he pointed to a stand where his latest invention stood.
It was crude, twisted metal and two wheels, but it looked kind of like a –
"Motorcycle?" I guessed. "Are – are you building another Batpod?"
"It'll be a little like the Batpod," he nodded. "But it's more like a motorcycle."
"Kind of small for you – the Batpod is bigger," I noted.
"Yeah," he seemed to be smiling, amused at something I could not see. "It'll be painted black, but with touches of red and green."
"Huh?" I blinked.
He finally smiled. "What do you think? Is Robin ready for his own ride?"
"Me?" my eyes went wide.
"Yeah, it's for you. Something for you to ride alongside the Batmobile. Think you're ready to have your own motorcycle?"