"Why are you still here?" Batman descended the stairs to the BatCave and greeted Robin. The young man was sitting in a chair scouring news feeds and sites for any information regarding Ra's al Ghul or the Society of Shadows.
"Working, boss."
"You realize you have a day job? It's only so flexible." Batman stood behind his partner and watched as article after article blew passed the screen. Not one shed any new light at all on the Society's movements. "Robin, it is morning. Leave."
Robin still did not turn. "Give me a bit more time. I've got an RSS feed under analysis. By the time I'm done with this search, it will be ready for review."
"Robin."
"We have to find out their next move. After the warehouse fiasco, we somehow came away knowing less." Robin closed out a search and set up another one. Those results began flashing on the screen with their keywords highlighted. "They've been a rather noisy quiet. Even Gotham's underbelly's caught wind of something bad coming – something bleak. There's no way they've avoided the spotlight so perfectly. Somewhere they've slipped up. I just have to find it."
"Robin."
"I've gotten potential leads from as far as Blüdhaven—"
"Curtis!"
At the sound of his real name, Robin turned and looked at Batman. Only it wasn't Batman. Bruce Wayne stood in a grey sweater and black slacks. In one hand he held a light novel. His face was not stern or stony but calm with a twinge of a melancholy smile. It scared Robin. "What is it?" he asked carefully.
Bruce reached out with his empty hand and Robin took it. Bruce pulled him out of the chair. "Take off the mask, Curtis. Go home. You do have a home, don't you?"
Robin nodded and pulled off his cowl and placed it to the side gingerly. "Yeah, I do." He cast a sidelong glance at the screen. "No one's waiting for me, though. Dad's always busy and Mom's dead, remember? My work at WayneTech is way ahead of schedule and most of my classes are online. No one's missing me. May as well figure out where priority target number one is."
"What about Kimber? I'm sure she'd like to—"
Curtis felt his heart leap into his throat. "No." His response was like the snap of a belt in the crisp cave air.
Bruce stared into Curtis, his ice-blue eyes seemed to pierce into Curtis' dark brown set. The boy looked to the side. After letting the quiet moment linger a little, Bruce spoke. "Let me share something with you that Iv'e learned and re-learned many times over the course of my career: you will not solve most cases in a single night and day."
Curtis bit his lip.
"Something of this level, this magnitude, is not going to go away with a few clicks of a button and a web search. Ra's al Ghul has been alive and active for centuries. You now know the caliber of beings he is dealing with and the power he wields; his reach and influence. I recognize your drive and your tenacity, it's admirable. But right now, it is wasted. You need to know when to take a break. You can't live down here." Bruce paused his lecture and stared into the cave ceiling. "I am still learning that. The war goes on, but so does life."
"Okay, sure, Ra's is out there and maybe we won't know what his next move is for a while, fine. But what about Superman? And Green Lantern?"
"What about them?" Bruce narrowed his eyes. "They're growing way out of your league. Whatever scrape you've survived against them was due to sheer skill and good fortune. Now with Diana's powers slowly returning, there's no telling what state Superman is in at this moment. They've been laying low, thankfully. Sources tell me Superman's recently arrived in Metropolis and Green Lantern is still somewhere in Star City with Hawkgirl. If they make a move, we will know, but as long as they stay out of Gotham, we will not chase them."
"Clayface's scout... thing?"
"Take. A. Break."
Curtis sighed and walked to the Armory and changed into streetwear. The denim against his legs and the wool top against his arms felt almost foreign. How long had he been Robin? Maybe Bruce was right? Maybe Kimber was right. I need to get out more, he thought to himself. He looked at Bruce. "And just what are you going to do?"
Bruce cracked an award-winning smile. "I'll manage," he said in the jovial voice of Bruce Wayne.
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Again.
Diana jumped up and then pushed off the wall. She flew quickly over to the opposite wall and made a sharp ninety-degree right turn. When she reached the corner of the room, she made another sharp turn then a third sending her to the roof. A split second before she would have hit the ceiling, she curled back into a 'u-turn' of sorts, flying straight to the floor. She landed nearly soundlessly on the ornate rug and took a moment to breathe. She could fly again.
The revelation had occurred the day before and it wasn't long before it felt natural again. Still, she lacked all of her other powers. Super strength still eluded her and she was too afraid to test her durability. So for the moment, she would work with what she knew she had. She rose into the air again.
"Keeping busy, I see."
Bruce Wayne's voice caught her off guard and she crashed to the floor. "Bruce!" she said after she righted herself. "You surprised me." She grabbed the towel she'd brought along and patted her face and shoulders.
"I wondered where you'd run off to earlier, but here you are."
"You remember this room, yes?" She walked by the rack of swords they'd used to spar one time during her first few weeks in the manor.
"I do." Bruce fully entered the room and rested his hand on the hilt of one of the blades. "Would you like to run some errands with me?"
"Excuse me?" Diana faltered.
"Some errands. There's some business I need to attend to. I'd like for you to join me." Bruce looked out the door and when his face turned back to Diana, he was all smiles. "Also, I'm not the best cook, so let's have someone else make food for us, huh?"
Diana smiled shyly and nodded. "Okay... Okay, I could do with some food. As long as we get ice cream afterward."
"Deal."
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He wasn't there. Mawk wasn't there. Kimber had to knock three times before she was faced with the realization that her soon-to-be ex was not home. A quick text to him confirmed her suspicion: Mawk had moved, again.
When he got his job in Star City, he'd been commuting between Gotham and Star City. He'd moved out of his parent's house in the well-off Finger Hills to a modern but small studio apartment on Grant Avenue. Now that their first year of college was starting and Mawk was attending a public college in Star City, it didn't make sense for him to live in Gotham and fight traffic both ways every day of the week.
Kimber would miss the goofiness and silliness of her on-again-off-again boy-toy, but part of growing up was realizing what is comfortable is not always what is best for growth. She had to find him. She had to tell him. For Curtis. For herself.
She pinged her rideshare app for a taxi and waited. As she stood on the curb before her home, she shot a text to Bruce letting him know she wouldn't be able to go on patrol for the night. Most likely the Mawk stuff would take the rest of the day and eat into the night. Though Star City wasn't too far from Gotham, it was still far enough that she wouldn't want to go on patrol after returning. And if things went poorly with the break-up, her mind would be distracted. That would make her more of a danger than an asset, as was proven at the warehouse the night before.
The taxi arrived and she got into the rear of the vehicle. Wordlessly, she shared the address with the driver, then slid into the back seat and reclined. The cab smelled of stale chips, so she moved her hand to the window controls and rolled the window down halfway. The breeze felt good on her face, reminding her of the liberating feeling of gliding through the air on synthetic bat wings and racing through the streets on rocket-powered motorcycles. She always missed patrolling.
As she let her mind wander, her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and caught her breath. "Curtis?" She pondered letting it go to voicemail but opted against declining her teammate's call. "Kimber, who's it?"
"Hey, uh, it's Curtis." He sounded nervous. "What's up?"
"Ah! Finally out of the basement and into the sunlight, I see," Kimber teased.
"Yeah, ah, the boss kicked me out. Told me to get some sun and socialize." Curtis groaned. "I thought I had something, but I'll just have to check it later. So what are you up to?"
You missed your chance, buddy, Kimber thought to herself as she recalled her invitation earlier to commute together. "You don't have other friends?" The moment the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. The line was silent for a time and Kimber felt the tension over the phone. It came through the earpiece and held her head hostage to the device, the status of her stomach hinging on how hard the young man on the other side took the careless comment.
She wanted to apologize, but what if he took it as a joke? Then the apology would be awkward. But if she didn't apologize and he did take it harshly, then she'd be doing more harm to their budding relationship than good.
"Hey, yeah. You're... You're right," Curtis stuttered back with a hint of defeat. "Sorry."
"Curtis, I—" The Korean-American teen started to apologize but the rest of it got caught in her throat. There was so much she wanted to spill out to him: her feelings and her desires. How he made her feel and how connected she felt to him. Words that she couldn't say, shouldn't say, over the phone. Words she had to kick back down into her soul and keep quiet. However, those words tangled and intertwined with the apology and in kicking them down, the apology was lost as well.
"Kim, I got it. It's all good." Curtis' tone picked up a bit. "You're right. I haven't really... seen other people. I gotta get out more during the day." She could hear him shifting awkwardly over the phone. "Bruce's given me some nights and days off. Told me I need to detox from all the work I've been doing."
"Oh, well, I'm heading to Star City right now to handle some personal stuff, but maybe we can kick it when I get back? We can talk about the elevator..."
"Uh, sure we can. I'll talk to you then, then."
Click.
It was an awkward ending to an awkward phone call. The first awkward interaction they'd really had. That scared her. It had always been so easy to talk to him before, but now it was weird. The kiss changed a lot and it had only been the night before. She hoped the changes wouldn't be bad.
"That your boyfriend?" The driver's harsh voice surprised Kimber. She'd honestly forgotten he was there. She looked up and saw him glancing at her in his rearview mirror.
"Oh, no." She stifled a smile. "Just a friend."
"Ah, well. Sorry." His southern drawl was disarming. "I thought you were havin' a lover's spat. My mistake."
The cab was silent for a while and Kimber watched the large rusting sign that read 'Now Leaving Gotham' quickly approach.
"'t ain't worth it, y'know."
"Pardon?"
"Arguing," the driver answered. "It's not worth it. Jus' find common ground and be nice to one 'nother." He held up his left hand and displayed his tarnished wedding band proudly. "Twenty-five years this September, ma'am."
"Congrats," Kimber automatically responded. Her mind was elsewhere after hearing the man refer to Curtis as her romantic partner. Second time in twenty-four hours? Well, that's a good sign in my mind. She tuned out the driver and watched Gotham City recede into the background.
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Curtis looked at his phone. He knew he'd messed up when he'd kissed her. It was a mistake, a moment of raw passion and pure emotion. From when he'd first met her at Gotham High he was smitten by her. Nevertheless, he'd always kept a distance; a professional but friendly working relationship. She was with someone else and he was dating around. At least that was the lie he'd told himself. Really, he hadn't had more than a first date with a handful of women. He'd put all his time into being Robin, especially lately. It provided a distraction from his feelings while also affording him time to hang out with Kimber. But he'd thrown it away to steal a kiss in that elevator. Why?
There was something about watching someone you care about come back from the brink of death that made all emotional barriers surrounding your feelings for that person crumble. The awareness that life is short and can quickly and easily be cut shorter drives one to do crazy things. Like sharing feelings you really shouldn't be having for a friend. Just a friend.
She'd kissed him back, or at least he thought she did. However, with how she was acting now, what with the delaying of the conversation that needed to happen to set the record straight on the mistake, he was sure he'd just lost his closest friend. And this phone call all but proved it.
"You don't have other friends?"
The question she'd posed to him ripped into his core. She was right. He swallowed hard to suppress the heavy feeling of sadness. He'd messed up and she was taking a break. It was convenient that Bruce had blocked him from Robin duties, actually. A hidden blessing. He would have time to make friends and time to indulge in other activities. He stepped off of Conroy Street and entered the Gotham Public Library. The young woman at the front desk looked up at him and smiled.
"Morning, sir," she said with a cheery disposition. "Welcome to the Gotham Public Library. Can I help you find anything?"
Curtis pursed his lips in thought. "I'm looking for a good book to immerse myself in. Sort of need a distraction for the next few days." He paused. "Do you have any mysteries you'd recommend?"
"Right this way." She moved from behind the long desk and gestured with a hand for him to follow.
After one flight of stairs up and a few rows down, the duo arrived at the mystery section. "This here is our section on mysteries, thrillers, and suspense novels. The next two rows contain stories that may be a bit longer," she explained quietly. "If you'd like my suggestion, A. Christie is always a good choice. Same with anything by R. C. Myer."
Curtis eyed the books and gave the redhead a dismissive, "Thanks."
"If you need anything else, just let me know." She patted the shelf once then left Curtis alone with the books.
He found a short mystery novel about a British detective out of the 1800s then sat in a chair upstairs and began to read. Quickly, the book grew tiresome. The case was an obvious one and within the first two chapters after the setup, he was almost positive he had the perpetrator pegged. Curtis flipped to the rear of the book and read the final pages, confirming his deduction. In frustration, he set the book down and retrieved another one.
He sat back in his chair and began to read, but this book was the same. Predictable plot, even more elementary mystery, and some outlandish situations. Curtis stood again and took three more books down from the shelf to try out. After twenty minutes, he closed the final book with a groan.
"You really like mysteries, huh?" The voice surprised Curtis. He'd been so comfortable and focused that he'd not even noticed the person sitting in the chair on his left. The girl flashed him a coy smile and rested her chin on her fist, legs crossed.
"Yeah, you could say that," Curtis responded. He set the books on a side table and absent-mindedly clapped his hands together. "It's a hobby of mine, so I guess I've gotten too natural at it for my own good." He gave the girl a smile of surrender.
"Then maybe you could help me, Mr. Mystery." She rose from her seat slowly and put a hand on her hip. "I promise it's simple. Won't even have to leave the building."
"Sure. What's the case?" he asked jokingly.
"'Of all the offices in all the world, she had to walk into mine,' huh?" She paraphrased a famous movie quote and then handed him a scrap of paper. "I'm a junior reporter for the Gotham Gazette. They never give out real stories to juniors, but I managed to snag a story that may be a bit bigger than they anticipated. There's been a string of thefts through Burnley near the University. I was handed the case for a quick column, but after a few interviews, I feel like this could be something bigger: a superthief! But I need help with it."
Curtis read the scrap of paper. It looked like an address to a place on a street named 'Kearnswood' in Gotham. "Is this all you have?" He did some quick searching on his GPS and then looked at the woman. "I'd need some context as to how you acquired this or at least what it refers to. Because there's no 'Kearnswood' in Gotham that I can find."
"Ah but there is," she responded with a twinkle in her eye. She waved her hand about the library. "I realized that it isn't necessarily an address, but a book of some sort. I asked the librarian and she said she didn't know, but she directed me up here." She picked up one of the books she had on her reading pile. "See?"
Curtis read the spine of the book and the light turned on in his head. "Oh! Kearnswood is a writer." He looked again at the scrap. "How did you figure that out?"
"Literally coincidence." She sat on the arm of Curtis' chair, legs crossed again. "I'd read one of her books as a child; terrible idea, B-T-dubs, because she wrote a lot of horrid stuff. Here, leaf through and see for yourself."
Curtis took the book and flipped through a few pages. "Occult rituals, midnight meetings, terrible lineages, cursed artifacts, the Vandal Savage?" He turned to his new companion. "Why would you read about this stuff as a kid?"
She shrugged. "My mom's a librarian in New York. I spent a lot of time there as a child and was only allowed to read from the non-fiction sections growing up. Kearnswood's books were all classified as nonfiction. Seemed interesting at first, but eventually, it gave me nightmares."
"Okay, and the paper you've got?"
The reporter gave a sideways smile and unconsciously pulled at her large curly poof of hair. "Okay, so I may have been eavesdropping at a bar last night – promise not to tell about my fake id – and I overheard two guys discussing some sort of house job they were hired for. Someone hired them to steal something from this 'address', but they couldn't make heads nor tails of it." She triumphantly pointed to the paper Curtis held in his hand.
"Fine, you've piqued my interest." Curtis looked at the paper again, reading it over a few times. Then he looked back to the young lady. She was probably no more than a year his senior and her piercing green eyes stood in stark contrast to her dark skin. What was it that Kimber said? Curtis thought to himself. You don't have other friends? I guess I should start making some. "Here's the deal: I help you solve this little bit and you accompany me to lunch."
A sly smile crept over her face and she extended her hand for a handshake. "Deal."
Did I just land a date? Neat. "Let's get started, then!" Curtis instantly shifted into work mode. "So you have the name right with the writer, but the first set of numbers here that would be an address is most likely a way to determine which book they are specifically looking for. Not that they'd know that, but we do. Now, is this exactly as you heard it, or is there a possibility that some parts of the message were not recorded properly, Ms...?"
"Inza Cramer," the dark-skinned girl replied with a grin. "And please don't call me 'Miss'. I'm 20, not 200. It's nice to meet you..."
"Curtis." Curtis stuck his hand out and the two shook. "Curtis Walker."