2014.03.26 - Fear and Guilt

Batman is in a Mood.
He's spent the better part of an hour sitting before the large bank of monitors that make up the main workstation of the Batcomputer. On them a variety of footage plays. One is a GBS news report detailing the recent murder of Captain William Smith, a Vietnam veteran and Captain America's subsequent response to the press.
Another shows closed circuit footage looking through the window of a convenience store across the street to a dive bar that is engulfed in flames. Two larger monitors contain vital statistics for both the Joker (what little Batman know of them) and for Stephanie Brown A.K.A. Spoiler.
His cowl is off. As is his cape. He sits instead in the bodysuit with his hands steeped before him and an inscrutable expression upon his face.
Batgirl is staying out of it.
 
She has found that it's simply easier to be silent and out of the way. Those are two things she does very well. So, she crouches in a corner, contemplating in martial arts in her head. Though her brain now has words, she has begun to remember, to a degree, what it was like to think in movement, so she spends a lot of her time doing that, mentally practicing. Batman's body language says DANGER in big letters, so she decides to wait for Cardinal to arrive, idly watching the entrance while she focuses more strongly on things that calm her, like kicking ass.
Tim arrives in his new uniform, perhaps even the first time Bruce has seen him in the costume. He has the hood pulled back, though and the mask removed, leaving him also essentially bareheaded, the crimson bird's silhouette on his chest a shock of crimson on black. He knows to expect the Mood to some degree. It's been a rough few days, all around. For his part, TIm is largely just grateful that Steph is, at least physically, pretty much unharmed. The psychological damage, of course, remains to be assessed.
After parking the Redbird in its designated spot, he enters the cave with a soft tread, turning his head and nodding to Cass in greeting. He gives the diminutive, yet deadly, girl a soft smile. He's learned to enjoy her silence. It's such a contrast to Damian. "I have Stephanie in the safehouse on Broad street. Motion detectors on and doorlocks activated. I wasn't followed, but it'll make her feel safer." he says.
“She was your responsibility,” Batman points out, his voice stone-cold and glass-flat, “You said it yourself.”
He reaches out to depress a key, bringing up the live feed from the safe house on Broad. There’s not much to see. Stephanie is there just like Tim said she would be. The feed takes up the largest, central monitor of the Batcomputer.
He’s said nothing to Batgirl all night. He came down here still dressed for his late afternoon sleep. When the news came up and the panicked call from Spoiler came through the comms he changed into his working clothes. But he didn’t leave. Instead he’s simply sat himself before the torrent of information flooding from the many screens and ... stared.
From her perch, Batgirl nods at Tim as he comes in, her eyes quickly reading his body language as naturally as she breathes. She likes the look of his new uniform. It sets him apart from Damian. It's a good thing her opinions aren't asked very often. She has less patience for brattery than ever.
Batman rarely has to say anything to her. She can understand what he's saying without words, of course. And, that he was sick over Spoiler being kidnapped by the Joker...well, anyone could've told that, even without her ability to read bodies. She does feel that Batman, perhaps, is being less than fair, considering Stephanie went out on her own, without telling Tim, so he had no idea that she was in a position to /be/ in danger, but... She simply crouches silently and watches things play out.
Cardinal sighs and takes a seat on top of the old pommel horse, the surface of the leather worn from the hours Dick used to spend spinning around it. Tim was perhaps less adept than Dick (okay, he was definitely less adept than Dick at gymnastics, but everyone was, even Bruce), but he'd still spent plenty of time on it. He nods and runs a hand through his hair, "Not arguing about it. She's stubborn, though, and determined and I have to get her to trust me before I can keep her in line. Just yelling at her or telling her not to do something won't work. Her entire life is about rebelling against authority. And this wasn't her anyway. This was Joker. He hunted her, not the other way around," he says.
“I taught you from day one,” Batman continues, holding up a finger but not turning from the screen, “Never to face the Joker alone. If you saw him, you were to break off and not engage without me there. You should’ve impressed the same thing on her.”
He stands up suddenly, moving towards the stand that his cape and cowl rest upon and pulling it down roughly. His body language screams that he’s angry. Angry at the Joker for what he’s done. Angry at himself for not preventing it. He may sound angry at Tim, but his body language shows only that he has heaped all the blame upon himself.
“It was a mistake to let her operate. She’s not trained and she’s not ready.”
Fool, he thinks to himself, Stupid, old man. Thought she had what it took. Thought she deserved vengeance. Let her stagger like an infant into the lion’s den. Your fault.
Joker hunted Spoiler... Like a hyena, picking off the weakest of the herd. Batgirl has watched a lot of nature documentaries, lately. She feels they're very educational, because people are animals, too. She also found it interesting to note she could often read the body language of some of the animals. Primates, of course, were easier to read, but...
 
Her eyes move to Batman's form as he begins talking. His body says far more than his voice. But, both scream guilt, regret, fear, recrimination. Her shoulders droop a bit and she, not for the first time, wishes she had the words to comfort him. To remind him that children have to get burned, sometimes, to learn that fire is hot and they should be careful not to get too near it, let alone touch it. Her upbringing was much different. She was raised in an environment of constant danger, so it was simply what she knew, and it was more like navigating the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night...instead of avoiding certain death. She looks to Tim, hoping he understands that this anger is not directed at him. She watches for his body language.
Cardinal knows, of course. Tim isn't like the other Robins, in many ways. All born of tragedy, so full of anger, latching onto their foster father and mentor as a liferaft in a sea of grief. Letting that anger be sharpened into a blade. Tim has suffered loss, true, no less than the others, but it was not the loss that inspired him to take up the cause. That came later. Tim took the job because he understood what Bruce needed, even when Bruce didn't know himself. He's spent most of his life studying the man in front of him, dissecting him, picking the parts of him that could make him better and learning to understand the parts that made life harder. In some strange way, although there is genuine love and affection there, Tim has almost used Batman. And he certainly knows that so much of Bruce's anger comes from fear. Fear of loss. He had to overcome that, too. He, after all, is the one who succeeded Jason.
Understanding or not, that doesn't mean doesn't hurt at all. Of course it does. He wants his teacher's respect. Tim's a good student, one of the best. He's angry at himself, too. If Spoiler had been seriously harmed or died, he'd have taken it even harder. The relief he felt when he heard her voice on the communicator...
"She's going to operate whether we want her to or not. Short of locking her up, we're not going to stop her. And she's good. I know she got snatched tonight, but she also got free. On her own. She does need to be trained, yes. And I think, after this, she probably knows that, too."
“She’ll come here,” Batman answers tersely, lifting the cowl over his head and fixing it into place, “I’ll train her. So will you. Alfred can train her in first aid. Cassandra and Damian can handle her physical training. You’ll handle the intellectual side. I’ll oversee it and step in when it’s necessary.”
In one fell swoop he makes Spoiler the responsibility of every single member of his little crime fighting army. He knows the strengths and weaknesses of his soldiers and if Stephanie is to learn then she’ll learn quickly and with the best tutors.
You’re wrong, he tells himself, Should do something. Put her and her mother on a plane out of Gotham with a one way ticket. You’re not saving her. You’re condemning her to death.
“Hnh,” Batman grunts, opening a section of his belt to check that it is outfitted correctly.
She won’t give in. Won’t stop. Train her or watch her die. Your choice.
Batgirl's shoulders rise and fall silently with her sigh. She hates all this tension, all this self-flagellation. So Stephanie got kidnapped and, yes, she was in great danger... But, she got free, on her own. And, she knows better, now, that she needs more training. And, she will be trained. More anger and sadness over what's done...is a waste of time, she feels. Must move on. Must keep going. Adapt or die. Adapt or die. She looks back and forth between Batman and Tim, finally somersaulting down from her perch...landing silently, smoothly, and into a walk. She gets right up in Batman's face, her body twisted to look him in the eye-guard as he checks his belt. "Enough," she says. And, without the words to say all the things she wants to say, she simply slides her arms around Batman's broad chest and hugs him, whether he likes it or not. "Forgive," she says. Forgive yourself, forgive Tim, forgive Stephanie. Time to move on. Adapt or die. She releases him and moves over to give Tim an affectionate shoulder tap with her fist. She then disappears into the darkness, heading off to do her patrols, not even the sound of her cape to herald her exit. 
Cardinal had been about to respond, to start going over a training plan, to convince Bruce that he wouldn't screw it up, that it would go right and all of this trouble could be put to good use. And then Cass just shocks the hell out of him when she hugs the Batman right there in the middle of the cave, barely feeling the tap on his shoulder as she moves past him and into the shadows. He turns his head and looks after her for a long moment and then...
He laughs. Long and loud and clear. She's right. Whatever bad happened, Stephanie survived. She's safe. They should be celebrating her survival, not calculating odds and planning obstacle courses. "I think she might be my favorite,' he says with a grin. "i'll talk to her about it tomorrow. I'm sure she'll agree. And we'll find him. We always do," he says.
“Hnh.”
Batman doesn’t hug back. He looks down at Batgirl instead. There expression on his face is not an awkward one or one of surprise. It’s stoic and impassive. He simply watches her, waits until she is done and then gets back to the business at hand when she has finally stepped away.
“It’s not a matter of eventually finding him,” Batman answers, no humor in his voice, “It’s finding him before he can hurt anyone else.”
Then, at last, he brings up a slightly smaller elephant in the room.
“You’ve changed your uniform. What are you calling yourself now?”
Good soldiers, he thinks to himself, All of them. They honor you. Trust them more. Can’t bear the weight alone. Not anymore. Getting old. Too old.
Cardinal isn't going to follow up on the Joker thing in this conversation. The symbiotic relationship between Batman and the killer clown could fill a few textbooks (and probably will someday). They will do their best, as always. But Joker is chaos itself and Tim has had to begin to learn to forgive himself, at least a little, even if Bruce can't yet.
To the uniform question, he nods, "Cardinal. Still a red bird, but I like one of the other meanings better. Cardinal as in prime, important. A reminder to myself to keep my priorities straight. And it isn't the name of a fast food chain," he says.
"But the change is more than aesthetics...I've been thinking a lot. About my role. About...what I want to do with my life. With the work." he says.
“Always thought you’d stop,” Batman admits, stepping past Cardinal to the Batmobile parked on its dais nearby, “Never thought you felt like this was something you’d do forever.”
The door to the Batmobile hisses open, triggered by some unseen function of cowl. He takes a seat inside, turning his head for a moment to survey the latest in a series of proteges gone on to bigger things.
“So what are you going to do with it?"
Cardinal is almost surprised, but, of course, he shouldn't be. Just as he knew Bruce far better than most, Bruce knew him. Tim had always been honest with Bruce, for the most part, outside of the occasional, rare transgression. "I'm not sure yet. Something somewhere between what you do and what Barbara does. Using my knowledge and my skills to...get at things from a structural point of view. I'll still do my patrols and keep my toe in, but...if you just need someone to kick people in the fact, I'm the least effective at that among the weapons at hand. Dick and Cass are both far better at it than I. Damian isn't yet, but he will be. That's not what you - or the world - need me to do," he sighs. "When I went to Europe last time, I saw...there are networks, Bruce. Some of them decades and decades old, roots down deep, older than anything even in Gotham. There are conspiracies and dark forces that underly so much of this world...and I think I could do some good rooting it out. Shining a light."
Batman measures the response in silence for a moment. The only sound the internal beeping and pinging of the Batmobile. The only light on him the cast from the dashboard heads-up display. Finally he speaks.
“You’ll make the right choice,” he offers, the door beginning to hiss shut, “You usually do.”
His opinion on what Tim wants to do. His opinion on the new uniform and the new name. They all go unsaid like so many other things. The Car’s engine revs, the sleek black behemoth rolling off the dais and towards the long, dark tunnel that leads out into the wider world.
“Would you care for something to eat, Master Timothy?” asks Alfred from the stairs, his sleeves rolled up and an impeccable apron tied about his middle, “I’ve prepared dinner and it seems Master Bruce won’t be partaking.”
Cardinal sighs and smiles softly to Alfred. He wishes he could read people as easily as Cass does. She managed to communicate more with Bruce tonight than some probably have in years. Still, at least it didn't lead to an argument. It's hard to find a way to be your own man and still let it be known that you're not leaving who you were behind. That you're just adding something new atop it. For years, Bruce had lost Dick for a long time. Jason never really came home - at least, the Jason he'd lost never had. Tim was trying to grow up as smoothly as he could without ruffling the Bat's wings. It wasn't going to be easy.
"Of course, Alfred. Maybe pack a little of the extra away for Stephanie? She'll probably be pretty hungry when she wakes up."
Category:Log