The Apprentice

Look Inward

Cyborg takes a knee next to his machine.

"Screwdriver."

"Screwdriver!" Starfire replies cheerily, passing it to him. He loosens the screws around a low panel and pops it off, then drops the screwdriver and upturns his palm.

"Wrench." He continues, and she rummages through the pile next to him. She pulls the tool free, holding it over her head and declaring "Wrench!"

He takes it and moves the thumbwheel to widen its jaws, then removes the bolts around a cap, yanking it off and tossing it over his shoulder. He quickly installs the new port in its place, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head as he tries to find a better angle.

"Extension cord." He requests, his tone carrying a proud finality.

"Extension cord!" Starfire dutifully echoes, holding out what he asked for.

Cyborg reaches for it before he does a double take, hand twitching. "Uh, Starfire? Not that kind of extension cord."

She raises the short white cable, staring at the dangling rectangular case in which the row of sockets is housed.

"There is more than one kind?" She muses doubtfully, raising a finger to her chin.

"Yeah, Star, I need one that connects this—" he gestures to his baby, the metal chair-shaped contraption he's been working on for the majority of the morning, "to that." He points at the Batcave's supercomputer, where Batman stands over the console, typing lines of code that streak across the main screen.

"Oh," Starfire realizes, head swiveling between the two devices before tilting at the extension cord still in her hand. Her brow furrows. "And how is this achieved?"

"With a long cable." He explains, determined to get through to her. He presses his cupped hands together to make a circle. "It should be about this thick, and it's, uh... Batman?"

"Grey." Batman grunts, not taking his attention off his code.

"Grey," Cyborg supplies, "with, uhh..."

"Black banding."

"Got it?" Cyborg asks her. Starfire takes in the information, studying the distinctive features of the ports. She floats out of her kneeled position, clapping her hands together.

"That is most clarifying!" She announces, drifting backwards over the platform's edge. "I shall return momentarily."

She dips down to the platform below them, heading towards the storage room she's been flying in and out of for many such errands. Cyborg sits back, resting his weight on one arm outstretched behind him while using the other to wipe sweat from his little remaining patch of organic forehead. While he waits for Starfire, he absentmindedly turns his attention to Batman.

"How's it looking?" He asks, craning his neck to better see the screen over his shoulder.

Batman doesn't reply, and Cyborg is quickly learning that that's the norm. He huffs, and scans through the code himself. It's almost there, just needs a few more optimizations. As he gets to the part Batman is actively writing though, he tenses.

"Uh, Batman?" He starts, but the Dark Knight ignores him. "Batman," he presses, "you already wrote that part."

Batman's fingers gradually slow to a stop. He remains motionless for a moment, like it's taking him time to process Cyborg's words. Then, he angles his head up slightly, looking over the program.

After another short delay, he highlights and deletes the repeated code. Then, his fingers stutter back into motion, and he carries on without a word. Cyborg grimaces, shifting to face the man better. He hasn't forgotten the state Batman was in during their heated argument, and the hours of planning, building and coding that followed only made it worse. He doesn't have to see under his cowl to know there are bags under those eyes. Cyborg would be lying if he said it wasn't unsettling, seeing the unflappable Batman be... utterly flappable. It reminds him achingly of Robin.