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Patrol
"What's on your mind, Bruce?"
They were in the Batmobile, wrapping up a routine patrol. It was three in the morning and Dick needed to get back because he had a trig final in five hours. Normally they'd stay out another two hours, but sometimes Batman could be reasonable.
"You did a good job with Catwoman tonight—she hadn't escaped more than six hours before you located her, Robin. I saw the way you took down six of her men—good job."
"…Seven.
"Even better. The commissioner was happy to have them all put away so quickly and you get a good deal of the credit, chum." Robin was happy to hear the compliments, but he knew better than to think Batman was just being generous—he was leading up to something and he had a pretty good idea of what it was. He also wished he'd just get to the point, because for one thing he was tired and for another, he knew exactly what was on the Bat's mind: he and Roy being gay lovers at seventeen and under the Bat's roof. Okay, they had his tepid permission, but he wasn't what anyone would call thrilled and the vibes had been coming through loud and clear for months now. Truth be told, it was wearing thin for them, too; everywhere he and Roy went, every word they said they were under scrutiny and, as they say, found lacking. The two of them knew how they felt and this wasn't just some affair; they loved each other and this would last. Sure, maybe it wasn't forever, but they weren't going anywhere for a while—a long while and Bruce needed to get used to that. And did he even have to get into the fact that every room in the Manor was bugged? Talk about inhibiting.
"You all set for your history final later?"
"Sure, no problem."
"What about Roy?"
"What about Roy?"
Batman took a beat before answering; lately everything he said seemed to start an argument. "Does he have any tests today?"
Fine, Robin could tone it down a notch if he had to. "Oh. No, sorry. His finals aren't till next week; the public school goes a week later than mine does."
"Do you have any idea what he plans to do this summer? Is he planning on getting a job or anything along those lines?"
Robin was looking out the window, watching the city go by; his jaw hurt where one of the goons got a hard punch in and he'd twisted his back when he pushed off from a wall a little off balance for a flip. The Jacuzzi would feel good, especially if Roy was still awake to help relieve some of the tension when they got back. "He said he was going to work, but he hasn't found a job yet. We were going into town when I finish the test tomorrow and see who's hiring."
"I see."
"What do you see?" Make a point, Bruce, stop beating around the bush.
Dick threw a challenge at him and it was annoying. Batman tossed him a glare, the one known to freeze criminals dead in their tracks, but Robin had seen it for nine years now and it didn't work as well on him. He did, however, know he was being snotty and was chastised enough by the rebuke to give a half-hearted apology. "Okay, sure. Fine."
They were almost at the bridge that would take them out of the city and back to the suburbs and would be home inside of ten minutes; not enough time for what he wanted to ask. Without a word Batman turned right, bringing them back to the outer beltway around Gotham. From here the trip home could be stretched out to almost thirty minutes if need be and Robin knew exactly what was happening and why. "I'd like to talk to you about how things are going between you two."
Robin knew this was coming sooner or later and here it was. "Like what?"
The boy could be as evasive as the best of them when the mood hit. "Let's start with the report I got from Leslie report this morning that Roy was treated for syphilis a few months ago. I think you might have mentioned that to me—and where did he get it? He was living at the Manor then, wasn't he?" He looked over at Robin again. "She also said you were tested and came up clean."
Robin had as guilty a look on his face as Batman had ever seen. "That was when he first moved in. We both knew something was wrong and so we went to the clinic. Leslie gave him penicillin and he was fine in a couple of weeks…and we were careful before that—I'm all right, I didn't get it or anything."
"You didn't tell me how he got it."
"…I don't know."
That was a flat-out lie, out of character for Dick. "I doubt that. You want to try again?"
"…He needed money and, you know…he needed money."
Christ. "Because he's using again?" So the kid was pimping himself out for drug money. That's it; he was out the door at first light. Period. Queen could come get him and deal with this.
"No. No, he's stopped. As soon as he moved into the Manor we got him cleaned up and off the junk—that's why we were always in my room or out taking walks or something, so you wouldn't notice and send him back to Ollie. He's okay now, he's back in school and he's okay."
Christ again. "For the love of God—wouldn't the best, smartest, easiest thing have been to tell me or Alfred, even Ollie and get him professional help? What the hell were you thinking?"
"That I could help him. And I did." Simply stated—ask a question, get an answer. "He's clean now, Bruce. You see him everyday, you'd know if he wasn't."
Fine, calm down, be understanding. "Dick, look, I know you want to help him and you two are friends, but he needs professional intervention to kick this and you simply don't have the training to do…"
"I know what he needs, Bruce and he won't go to a clinic or a rehab center. He says they don't work for him. He'll do it for me—he did it for me and he's been clean since he moved in. It worked."
"For now, maybe, but you know the odds that he'd backslide again and I don't want you caught up in that. You have enough to deal with on your own without adding a junkie to your plate. Do you understand me? I want him out today."
"Why? I told you he's clean."
"Stop being obtuse. Does Ollie know about any of this? Does Dinah?"
Robin spared Batman a quick look, judging how far he could go with this. "I spoke with Dinah the day before he moved into the Manor, I don't know what she told Ollie but she thought it was a good idea to get Roy out of where he was so he could get away from Ollie; they weren't getting along and she thought—and I agreed—that was part of the problem. As soon as he was out he stopped using, he's doing better in school and he's—we're happy." He turned his head to the left again for a moment. "C'mon, Bruce, you can see that. Besides, my grades are fine and I'm still going out as Robin whenever you want me to. I mean I just took out seven of Catwoman's men tonight and helped you get her back in a cell. It's not like I'm slacking off or anything."
"You're losing your focus. You took them down but two of them got solid punches in and you're trying to hide it."
Robin jerked his head around so that his swollen jaw line was firmly facing away from Batman. "It was just a couple of lucky hits and I'm fine." He was looking out the window again, it had started raining, really pouring and the windshield wipers were slapping and squeaking back and forth.
"Dick…"
"Drop it, will you? I said I'm fine and I am—what's really the problem here? That you don't approve of Roy and me? Okay, why not? You think we're too young? You think this is just some kind of experiment that will get boring if you let us indulge ourselves for a while or are you jealous that we have something together without you?"
"That's enough." Jesus, how did they get to this point? Dick used to be so easy to have around; they got along so well and almost never had problems with one another.
"No, it isn't. Just because you've killed any possibility you might have had for personal happiness, that's no reason why I should and—even though I know you don't believe this, that fact is that Roy and I are best friends and we love each other. I know you think we're 'kids' and don't know what we're doing, but you're wrong, Bruce. We know exactly what we're doing and as soon as we finish school we're…"
"You're what? Going to move into your own place?" And leave the Manor? God, the rooms used to echo before Dick moved in.
"We've talked about it."
"I see, and what about college? Have you given that any thought?"
"Bruce—Christ, didn't we already have this conversation? Yes, I've thought about college and I might go. Roy isn't interested and will be getting a job, a real job and we'll be fine."
"Doing what?"
"Excuse me?"
"Roy will be getting a job doing what exactly?" The Batmobile was going dangerously fast along that long straightaway leading to the tunnel. Neither one noticed; Robin was used to Batman's driving and Batman was thinking about other things at the moment.
"He's had feelers from both the FBI and the CIA and they're interested. He is a Titan, you know."
They were headed back home; through the tunnel then another fifteen minutes and they'd be back in the cave. Bruce wanted to talk to Roy about his damn drug use but he was going to call Queen first to make sure he was up to speed on what his pain in the ass ward/foundling/lost puppy was up to again. He was damned if he was going to let Dick throw away everything he—they'd—worked for over the last decade so Dick could play white knight to a kid with 'loser' written all over him in neon.
"Batman, Jesus! Slow down, will you?" They'd almost sideswiped a Mercedes; Robin took a quick look; they were going close to 100mph, it was raining hard and the highway was slick with road oil. The tunnel entrance was about seventy-five yards away, a slight curve, a small dip in the road and they'd be out of the rain.
And they would have been fine if the deer wasn't crossing the road, stopped in the middle, blinded by the oncoming headlights.
TBC
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