Protecting the Batbrothers

Chapter thirteen

Bruce looked into the mirror as he put on the cowl. He stared at his reflection and Batman stared back at him.

That was one thing he never understood about Dick, how he could be Robin and Dick Grayson at the same time, one person.

With the cowl, he was Batman, without it, he was Bruce Wayne. It was so much easier to keep those two parts of him separated than to allow them to become one. When he was Batman, all he had to worry about were his partners and the villains, not his problems at Wayne Enterprise, nor his poor attempts at being a good father. He could just be a dark, gloomy vigilante, a shadow, a myth, not an actual person.

To his surprise- and worry- he realized that his eyes were wet. He didn't want to leave his sons, this world, Gotham. For the first time, he actually was Bruce Wayne underneath the cowl, because Batman didn't have sons, he had partners, but it was Batman who was giving his life for his sons.

He glared at his reflection and saw how his eyes dried again. He wouldn't plead, wouldn't fight back, he would take whatever the Joker had in store for him. For Dick and Jason.

He strode out of the room and down to the Batcave. Once he saw the team, Red Robin and Damian in his new Robin suit, he stopped, still hidden by the shadows.

"We can't just let him go! He'll get himself killed!"
Bruce smiled sadly at his youngest son's desperate voice. He listened as Tim sighed. "We can't do anything but try to find Dick and Jason and free them, so Batman can fight the Joker without having to worry about them."
"But-"
"Tim is right," interrupted Batman, stepping out of the dark.

"You'll find Dick and Jason and then you'll bring them here and patch them up."
"But what about you?" asked Damian with a deep frown, his little hands balled into fists.
"Yes," agreed Tim, arms crossed. "We will not just run away, while you fight the Joker. No way. The team can bring them back, but the brat and I will stay."

Bruce stared Tim in the eye, who stared right back, a challenging glint in his blue orbs. "Fine," relented Batman finally, breaking eye contact.

He glanced at the clock. 08:30 pm. "We have to go. The warehouse where Jason and Dick are held in is three houses away from the spot where I'm suppos to meet with the Joker. You have to be careful that he doesn't see you."

Aqualad nodded. "Don't worry, Batman. We've got this. Just try to stay alive long enough for us to find Robin and Jason." The caped crusader gave a curt nod and motioned the teens to get into the Batmobile (it was very tight as they all tried to fit in the backseat).

No one said anything as the lights of Gotham raced past them. Batman took in every detail of his home city. So much had happened here. Bad things, like his parents' death, Robin and the others getting kidnapped so many times, but also good things, like taking in Dick and adopting Jason and Tim. He sighed.

Why hadn't he adopted Dick yet, anyway? The boys always said that they were Bruce's adopted sons, even Dick, but he could see the look of hurt in his eyes every time they talked about the strange family situation. Bruce sighed. If he survived this, then he would officially adopt Dick. There was no reason as to why he hadn't done so yet. There just had been no... time.
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The night was dark, clouds covering the moon. The only sound was the soft splashing of water against the pier.

They had reached the docks a few minutes ago and Batman had said goodbye to Damian and Tim. They both had been at the verge of tears, but they were strong, they could do this. After Damian had- to Tim's surprise- hugged Bruce half to death (not literally, of course), he had told them to go and start searching for Dick and Jason.

Now he stood alone, watching the small waves as they reflected the pale light the moon was giving, barley visible through the veil of clouds. Usually, he would have enjoyed the dark, but now it felt threatening. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the salt water.

He stood like this for a few minutes, eyes closed and body stiff, until the clicking of a gun pulled him out of his stupor. He slowly turned around, facing the man in front of him. The scarred red lips twisted into a smug smirk.
"Joker." Batman's voice was calm, no sign of fear or regret. "Where are Robin and Red Hood?"
He cackled. "Don't worry, Batsy. Once you do as I say, I will let them go. But I need to ask, what's up with you and Hood? You two good, trying to kill each other, beating the kid, I can never tell what your deal is. Meh, whatever. Doesn't matter anyway."

He raised the gun, pointing it at Bruce's head. The man didn't make a move, just stared into the madman's eyes.
"Shoot," he growled, his heart beating at a normal rate. He wasn't afraid to die. He never has been.
As the Joker didn't move, Batman intensified his glare. "Shoot," he snarled once again.

Suddenly, the Joker burst out laughing, slightly lowering the gun and holding his stomach with his free hand. "You're so funny, Batsy."

He pointed the gun at Batman's head once again, sobering up in the matter of milliseconds, and slowly walked around him. Bruce didn't so much as twitch as he felt the cold metal against the back of his head. "There is more then one way to die, Batman," whispered the crazy voice of the Joker, chuckling. "Before I end this, we should pay a visit to your sons, wouldn't you agree?"

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A/N: What do you think does the Joker mean with 'There is more than one way to die'? Comment what you think is going to happen next.