Behind the Mask

Chapter 11

Bruce Wayne sighed to himself, pulling his hood up over his uncharacteristically messy black hair. The night was already upon the city of Gotham and the streetlamps cast their golden light over the billionaire as he made his way down the street, hands shoved in the pockets of an old sweatshirt. He was dressed in old jeans along with the worn black sweatshirt so that from first, or second or third glance, no one would identify him as Gotham’s richest man. One would, of course, assume that this was intentional, as Bruce Wayne didn’t usually make it a habit of wandering the streets of Gotham at night dressed a common man. Or so one would assume, but one could never be sure, seeing as no one would recognize him if he did, so perhaps he did make a habit of it. No one would ever really know.

Bruce inwardly cringed as he accidently stomped through a rather deep puddle on the side of the street and his shoe was instantly soaked. The puddle’s origin was an old drainage pipe that drained out onto the street, the water then flowing down the sewer, or so the original idea was. Over time, a pot hole had developed just below where the water came out of the pipe so that when water flowed down towards the gutter, it got caught in hole, hence the puddle. Bruce was usually careful to avoid the water, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment and he’d paid for it with his sock.

Contrary to popular belief, Bruce Wayne actually did make a habit of wandering down the streets of Gotham at night. He wasn’t consistent with it, seeing as the night was Batman’s element, but he did occasionally venture out on a quiet night, when there was too much on his mind for simply walking through the manor to take care of. Tonight, the weight on his mind was unusually heavy, even for being unusually heavy, if that makes any sort of sense. The weight could probably be attributed to the fact that there was more than one thing pressing down on his mind, so to speak.

The matter was the safety of his ward and Robin, the danger from the Cadmus Case growing with each passing day. Now, with the evidence pointing to the involvement of Ra’s al Ghul (who had been since taken care, the supposed ‘assassination attempt’ being nothing more than a ruse to draw out the Dynamic Duo in hopes of capturing Robin), the whole thing had become all the more dangerous, and, frankly, Bruce was contemplating how best to handle it. Batman, of course, knew what to do, but there was more than just Batman involved this time. This time, both Bruce Wayne and Batman had a problem. So, one could say, there were two things weighing down on the mind of the man who embodied both personas.

He hated making Robin stay back, making the boy angry with his guardian, but what else could he do? He knew how real the threat was and how badly he had to protect the boy from what could happen. Sure, he wasn’t sure of all the details yet, but he knew this was far more than a typical ransom situation. Bruce knew that if ‘Cadmus’ got hold of the boy, he would never see him again. Whatever this ‘Cadmus’ wanted with Robin, they didn’t just want Robin, but Dick Grayson too. They didn’t care who they captured because it wasn’t about either persona: it was about what they’d done to the person who embodied them.

There was no way Bruce would ever let them take Dick and Batman would never let them take Robin, but by protecting him, he knew he was only making the boy angry. He remembered what Alfred said, about making it up to Robin for keeping so many secrets from him: he would regret it if he didn’t. And of course Robin knew that Batman was keeping secrets from him, and Batman was fine with that, but Bruce wasn’t. Bruce didn’t want keep his ward in the dark, but Batman knew it was the only way to keep him safe. And since Batman knew what he was doing, Bruce wasn’t doing anything.

“Bruce Wayne.” The voice was feminine, laced with barely disguised seduction. Of course she would know it was him. “Fancy meeting you out here, at this time of night. I thought you gave up your nightly wanderings after that little trip to wherever it was you left to.”