#32: Cape & Cowl (Burchette / B)

The computer screen gave off an almost unnatural glow in the cave, and Tim Drake stared at the screen, his face awash in the blue light. His fists and jaw were clenched, and he was having a hard time maintaining a normal breathing pattern. The headline in front of him had been like a punch in the gut. It remained on the screen, as if taunting him:

REPUTED CRIME BOSS, VITO BERTINELLI, FOUND INNOCENT!!!

Every word in the article was like another knife being shoved deep into his chest. How could it have happened? How could the man who had murdered his mother be allowed to walk the streets again? Where was the justice in that!

“Master Tim, are you down here?” The Englishman’s voice echoed through the cave.

Tim had just enough time to delete the report from the screen before Alfred came into view. “I’m over here, Alfred.” He called out, forcing his voice to remain neutral, so as not to give away the anger that was boiling just underneath the surface.

“What are you doing down here at such a late hour?”

“Going over old case reports. Bruce left such detailed information, that it’s almost like reliving every event. That whole Starro crisis last year… I knew it was bad, but I never realized how close this world came to total annihilation. And this one,” He said, flipping a switch. “That Despero creature that the Justice League fought – wow!”

“Yes,” Alfred said with a sad smile, “Master Bruce’s adventures with the League were extraordinary. He would never admit it, but I believe there was a part of him that took pride in being part of such a superb group of individuals.

“Alfred? Tell me about… Batgirl.” The young man picked up on the split second hesitation in Alfred’s eyes, and he knew he had struck a nerve of some sort. “I asked Dick about her…”

“… And what was his answer?” The butler inquired.

“Not much, really; he said that she used to live in Gotham and they use to patrol together, but she moved to Las Vegas. That was about it. But…”

The unfinished sentence hung in the air for a bit before Alfred forced Tim to continue with nothing more than a look.

“Well… it’s just that… he seemed kind of sad when he was talking about her.” Tim watched his friend carefully, looking for a tell that would give him a hint that what he had suspected when talking to Dick could be true.

As usual, however, Alfred’s face was unreadable. “You could be right, I suppose. Batgirl and Robin use to patrol together quite a bit at one time. In fact, they were just as much of a dynamic duo as he and Batman were.”

“The files say that she left town and moved to Las Vegas. She recently changed her name to Batwoman. If she was part of Bruce’s war on crime, why hasn’t she shown up to pay her respects, yet?”

Alfred’s eyebrow arched at this as he realized exactly where the boy’s line of questioning was going. “Have you been trying to decipher the codes to Master Bruce’s personnel files?”

Although he tried hard not to give himself away, he couldn’t help but turn red. “If I’m going to be part of the team, I don’t understand why I’m kept out of the loop on these things.” He admitted with a shrug. It was a childish thought, he knew, but it was also the truth to the question.

“I believe, Master Tim, you are looking at it all wrong. This is not about trust. It’s not up to either Master Dick, nor myself, to reveal the secret identity of any other hero, to you. If one of your friends shared a secret with you, would you tell it to the first person who asked about it, or would you realize that it was up to your friend to tell them?”

Tim mulled that over for a moment and then nodded. “I see what you mean. It wasn’t right of me to ask.”

The man smiled down at him. “Oh, it never hurts to ask. You can’t become a great detective if you’re afraid to ask the questions.”

A small alarm sounded, breaking into their discussion. “That’s the perimeter alarm. Someone must have tried the old code for the front gate.” Alfred said as he went to the main computer system and switched on one of the many outside security cameras. For the first time in days, he broke into a grin. Speak of the devil, he thought to himself.

Flicking a switch, he leaned into a small microphone. “That code was changed nearly a year ago.”

A red haired young woman looked up directly at the camera and gave a small wave. “I assumed it probably was, but I thought I’d try anyway. I wanted to see if I could surprise you. I guess I should have known better.”

Alfred unlocked the gate with a press of a button. “I shall meet you in the front foyer, Miss Gordon.”

As Alfred rose from the chair, Tim watched the woman for a second. “Miss Gordon? As in Barbara Gordon, daughter to Commissioner Gordon?”

“Yes,” Alfred replied casually. “She’s an old friend of the family.” He turned before Tim could get a good look at his face, and walked back up the stone staircase.

This time it was Tim’s eyebrow that arched, as his mind began to turn. He headed towards the stairs, but the thought of Vito Bertinelli came back into his mind, and he paused in front of an oversized locker. He looked at it, touched it, and then looked back up the stairs where Alfred had disappeared to.



Twenty Four Hours Ago

He hadn’t been able to sleep. The mansion had always felt a little empty with just him and Alfred in it, at night, as it was, but knowing that Bruce wasn’t out doing his evening job… that he wouldn’t be returning at all, it somehow made the place feel even emptier.

Getting up from his bed, he slid into his slippers and put on his robe, tying it around his waist as he opened the door to his room and looked down the hallway in the south wing. Dick’s room was just across the hall and several feet down, but he doubted that he was in there. In fact, Tim wondered if Dick was sleeping at all, at this point. He seemed to have been going non-stop since… since Bruce left.

Still couldn’t finish the thought. Why was it so hard? He accepted his mother’s death, even his father’s more easily than Bruce’s. It seemed disconcerting, since he had known and loved his parents so much longer – so much more. His mother and father had both been gunned down violently, at different times in his life. Now Bruce had been taken by some psychotic megalomaniac. Were these the cards that he had been dealt? A life where everyone he cared about and respected was to be taken away from him in some violent way?

Stepping into the hallway, Tim crept silently towards the main kitchen, deciding that a cold piece of the chicken that Alfred had made that evening would hit the spot. He passed by Alfred’s private entrance to the cave and it caught his eye that the clock’s hands had been moved to the eight forty-seven position. That was the code needed to unlock the door. Alfred was in the cave. He stared at it for several minutes, then made up his mind and opened the door, making his way down carefully.

He had barely descended a few steps when he heard two very familiar voices; the first was Dick’s and the other was Alfred’s.

“It’s a nice design, Al, I’ll give you that, but it’s very premature.”
“Master Tim is a fast learner,” the British voice came floating through the air. “You may be surprised at how quickly he takes to the cape.”

At the mention of his name, and the word cape, Tim’s heart began to race. Could it really be…? He inched closer, crouching down, straining to get a glimpse of what he knew they had to be talking about.

“It won’t be that soon,” Dick replied, his voice sounding strained and tired.

Wanna bet, Tim thought to himself as his eyes made contact with the suit. It was obviously a much more up to date version of the classic outfit that Dick had worn, and Tim felt relieved about that. Full outfit, no pixie boots, and thank God, no green shorts!

“We agreed, Alfred. When and if he’s ready will be up to me.”

“Of course, Master Dick. I’m not usurping you authority at all, I’m just preparing for the inevitable, as I did when Master Bruce swore that you would never become the second Robin.”

“Point taken,” Dick said with a sigh. “I’m beat, Alfred. Trying to deal with this aftermath as well as keeping Donna from killing the Titans, it’s been a helluva week.”

“I shall draw a bath for you Sir, and have your favorite snack waiting for you when you retire.”

“Thanks Al, none of us would still be here if it wasn’t for you.”

Tim did not hear the older man’s remark as he was propelling himself back up the stone steps, but not before catching site of the oversized locker that the new Robin suit was being stored in.



Now

Rarely did Alfred Pennyworth break from the stoic character that he believed was needed for the position he was in; even after everything that had happened, he was always aware of his surroundings, always with his defenses up.

Yet, he had barely opened the door to admit their guest, when small tears began to form in his eyes. He knew it was going to happen, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was only grateful that the two of them were alone. When the door was opened all the way, he saw Barbara Gordon standing there with tears already falling down her face. Their moment of silence at the door was not made awkward in the least, but a slow, silent acknowledgement of the emotions that the both of them had been holding back for too long.

Barbara was the first to move, “Oh Alfred… I’m so… so sorry.” She barely got the words out as she embraced him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

He brought his own arms around her and pulled her to him, allowing himself a moment of weakness. In many ways, the relationship he had with Barbara had been much deeper than the others. She tended to wear her heart on her sleeve more often, and it had always been refreshing after Masters Bruce, Jason, and Dick. The times that they had shared together had always seemed more open, more intimate.

Alfred shushed her quietly as he brought her into the front foyer. “Everything is going to be alright.” He assured her, pulling out his handkerchief and handing it to her.

She dried her eyes as they went to their old haunt, the small, private kitchen in the back of the main house. “Is there going to be any kind of service?”

“We’re working things out now. It’s complicated, as you can imagine.”

“How is Dick holding up?”

“As well as can be expected. The young man has had a lot placed on his shoulders without any warning. He’s done an admirable job.”

“And what about you, Alfred?” She asked as she reached out and touched his arm.

He nodded stoically. “I’m holding up as well. There are many things that need to be done.” His voice cracked and he felt the water rushing to his eyes again – he struggled to maintain. “Master… Bruce… Bruce… my boy…” He broke down then. He let it all out; he couldn’t have held any of it in anymore if he tried.

He sobbed with the pain of a parent who had seen his child pass on before him. Barbara moved quickly, guiding him to a chair at the table and getting him to sit down as she put her arms around him for the second time. This time it was she who had to be strong. They stayed like that for several minutes while Alfred finally allowed the pain to wash over him.

Eventually he stopped, and she knew what was coming next. She understood him. He was getting up, pulling away from her, using the handkerchief she had handed back to him to clean himself up. “My apolo—”

She cut him off. “Don’t say it. I’m surprised that it took you as long as it did. Everyone knows how you felt about Bruce, and how he felt about you, too. That’s part of the reason why I’m here. I knew you were going to need someone, and I knew it wasn’t going to be Dick – you’d never allow that.”

Alfred couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “You do know me so well, don’t you.”

“I’d like to think so,” She replied with a warm smile.

“Just as I know you,” he said with a small twinkle returning to his eye. “The other reason you’re here… I’m sure it’s for…”

“Dick!” Barbara gasped as the leader of the Titans came running into the kitchen, his mask off, but his Nightwing costume still on.

He stopped short, surprised to see Barbara Gordon standing in the kitchen. “Barbara? What are you doing here?”

Even though they both knew that he knew the answer as soon as he asked, she couldn’t help taking another chance to tease him. “I hope you’re still the world’s greatest acrobat, because the deductive skills still need some work.”

He couldn’t help himself. He covered the distance between them in two strides and nearly crushed her spine as he lifted her off the hardwood floor, giving her a big bear hug. “It’s good to see you, Babs! You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“I came as quickly as I could,” She replied. “Alfred has been filling me in a little, and there’s so much I want to talk to you about, but I’m guessing now is not the time.”

Dick sat her down and nodded. “How did you know?”

“The way you came bursting through the door, and that thing you’re holding in your left hand. It’s the tracking device to your old motorcycle, isn’t it? He put the same one on my bike when I first started.”

“Damn, you keep getting better every time I see you.” He couldn’t help but smile.

Barbara tapped her temple with her index finger. “Photographic memory. I could probably tell you how to put it back on, if you’d like. I watched him do it.”

Dick’s face became solemn, “That’d be great, if we could, but the bike is gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” Alfred asked.

“My old bike is gone… and so is the new Robin costume. I got back from a quick patrol of the streets and noticed it right away, this was sitting on the ground where the old thing used to be.”

“Are you telling me that this new kid was quick enough to realize the cycle had a tracker and dismantled it before he took off?” Barbara asked, genuinely astounded.

“He’s really good,” Dick said.

“He’s in the city, I’m sure of it.” Alfred stated.

The other two nodded and Babs spoke up. “I brought my suit. I can be ready in two minutes.”

Dick grinned, “Just like old times. Alright, I’ll take the wing and you can have the car. You still remember how to drive it, don’t you?”

She gave him a reproachful look and he laughed in spite of himself. It was the first laugh that Alfred had heard in the house since [/i]he[/i] had passed on. It felt good, and it gave him hope.

“I’ll monitor all radio frequencies and keep in touch.”

The three of them headed towards the cave.



Wind whipped his cape behind him and he made his way into Gotham City with more than just butterflies in his stomach. Tim was unsteady on the bike, having only ridden dirt bikes before, but he held his own. He had visited Gotham many times, but suddenly, as he entered it in his new gear, he felt enormous trepidation. It was like a huge monster looming larger, its jaws opened wide, allowing him entrance so that it could swallow him whole. He was determined not to let that happen.

He crossed the bridge and headed straight for his goal. He knew that Vito Bertinelli still had several safe houses in Gotham, even though he now ran his business from Vegas. Bruce had noted one logical place in one of his many files on the crime boss; a nice penthouse overlooking Robinson Park. There was a note to check the place out for any possible evidence linking Vito to organized crime in his city.

Tim knew that Batman had not been able to follow up on this note, but that was for the best. Now, the all new, all different, Robin would get his answers!

He arrived at the high rise and parked the cycle in the back alley. He checked his gear and found what he was looking for, grabbing the small gun and aiming it into the air towards the railing of an apartment’s balcony. He squeezed the trigger gently, braced for the kickback, and watched as the small metal piece shot out and into the air. His eyes widened as he saw it miss its target and began to hurtle down right at him.

He ducked and moved several feet to the right, the metal barely missing him.

“All right, let’s try this again.” He muttered under his breath.



Batwoman couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable behind the wheel of the Batmobile. Not only was it a huge responsibility, but she felt as though she didn’t belong there. She saw the batwing fly overhead, sweeping the city.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Alfred’s voice came across the radio. “I believe I know where the bird has flown to.”

“Go ahead, A.” Nightwing’s voice replied quickly.

“A penthouse owned by Vito Bertinelli. It seems that our bird was going through some personal notes that he acquired. I think we can all assume what he’s trying to do.”

Again, Dick’s voice came back. “Stupid kid. Alright, I’m swinging by and… aw no, I’ve got gunfire in Crime Alley. Looks like a lot.”

Barbara flipped a switch as she turned left towards Robinson Park. “Take care of it, I’ll get the lost bird.”

“You sure, Batwoman? He’s a good kid and all, but…”

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle this.”

“I know you can. Good luck. Nightwing out.”



Robin’s third attempt had been the lucky one, and he was making his way up the building, his heart racing. What if someone were there? Was he going to go in, anyway? He passed by several open windows, and without warning a head popped out of one of them. He was an older gentleman, his hair neatly trimmed, large shaded glasses on his head. He arched an eyebrow in an overly exaggerated way as the two of them stared at each other.

“Great scott!” The man exclaimed. “This town thought you had retired.”

Tim wasn’t sure what to say. “No… not retired… just needed some, uh, rest?”

“Well, I for one am glad to have you back, son. This city needs more people like you. Carry on, citizen!”

“Uhhh… thank you Sir,” Tim answered back as he continued his climb. That man’s voice had sounded familiar. Did he do animated voices maybe? In fact…didn’t he sound an awful lot like the old Grey Ghost? He shook himself back into focus.

He reached the balcony to the penthouse and hopped over it, glad for the cover of darkness he saw inside. So far his luck was maintaining, but for how long, he had no idea. Better to get in, look around quickly, and get back out before the police showed up. The place had to have security systems, but he had not studied any of that yet. Which made him wonder if this had been a good idea to begin with.

When he checked the door handle to see how it was locked, he found that it wasn’t. In fact, as he studied it, he realized that it had already been opened by someone else. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he reached for his belt and pulled out a small flashlight, followed by two metal pieces shaped as R’s. Alfred had thought of everything.

He entered the penthouse as quietly as he could, remembering to stay near the wall, like Bruce had taught him. ”Most squeaky floors happen in the more traveled areas, few walk along the edge of the wall.” He heard Bruce say in his head.

As he scooted across the wall, he caught a glimpse of a figure in what appeared to be an office. There was only moonlight to see by, and for the moment he didn’t want to turn on his flashlight.

When he saw the shadow move across the room again, he raised one of his metal pieces, but before he could throw it, there was a soft whisper of a sound, followed by a large crack as the end of a whip struck his hand, knocking the weapon across the room. Robin gave a start in spite of himself.

“Birds may not be able to see in the dark, but cats can.”

Catwoman! He thought to himself. Why was she there?

He heard the whistle of the whip again, but this time he dove to the ground as it struck right above him. He somersaulted and then struck up with his left leg, supporting himself with his hands and arms.

Robin missed his target by a mile, felt the whip hit his boot, and suddenly he was being dragged across the floor. He raised himself up and grabbed for the whip that was wrapped around his foot, but couldn’t reach it.

“So what do we have here?” The female voice practically purred. “What is our little Boy Wonder doing in this place…or even in Gotham for that matter?”

Tim’s blood froze. His first time out, and he had already run into one of Batman’s rogues! He was at a disadvantage, and he knew it. If he remembered correctly, Catwoman could see in the dark due to some pretty high tech goggles. Infra-red, he believed.

“I don’t know why you’ve shown up at this moment, but you are definitely in the wrong place at the wrong time, kiddo. Your suit looks genuine, but the way that fight just went, I’m sure you have nothing to do with Batman. What are you, some kid just trying to get some kicks?”

“How about this for a kick,” Robin retorted as he flicked on his flashlight and shined it in her direction.

It did what he had hoped it would do and temporarily blinded her. She didn’t let go of the whip, but he was able to pull on his foot hard and quick, and tear it out of her hand. She cursed under her breath as she leapt towards him. That was when he heard the crash from the glass ceiling, and saw the cape and cowl of the bat in the moonlight.

Tim gasped out loud. It was him! He was still alive! He watched as the figure landed on top of Catwoman, grabbing her clawed hands as the two of them fell to the floor.

“Who the hell are you?” The feline vixen shouted in frustration.

“Don’t you recognize him?” Tim shouted out. “I am with Batman, and you are in a whole lot of trouble, lady!”

“Shut up,” the voice hissed and Tim stopped short for a second time. This was not Batman… that was a woman’s voice!

Catwoman rolled away from her foe and came up at the same time the other woman did. They stood facing each other, circling.

“Wrong again, kid,” She tossed to Tim, and turned back to her enemy. “Batgirl, it’s been a while.”

“Why are you here?” Babs demanded.

“Fine, thank you. Glad to see you’ve recovered from that whole Roulette thing, yourself.”* Catwoman shot back.

*{See New Outsiders #22 & 23}

“What are you doing here?” Batwoman demanded again.

“None of your business. But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t come here to steal anything expensive.”

“I know, there’s nothing in this room that’s worth your time… at least not for your usual M.O.”

“How is Huntress?” Selina Kyle asked.

Barbara was trying her best to be discreet as she circled her opponent. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t tell what… yet. She released a batarang from a small compartment in her belt. She wasn’t ready to throw it yet, but she was better off prepared.

“I see, no answer. And after everything we’ve been through.”

Robin had removed himself from the floor, the whip in one hand, another pointed R in the other. He still couldn’t see that well, and Catwoman was circling too much to keep the flashlight in her eyes.

Babs saw the movement, but couldn’t yell for him to stop without giving him away. He was pouncing, which was exactly what Catwoman had wanted him to do. As he threw the R and leapt towards her, Selina leapt into the air and flipped to dodge. She came out of the roll just as Robin’s body came in contact with hers and she was able to pull the whip from his hand, both of them landing hard on the floor.

Batwoman went to join the fray, but Catwoman was too quick. She pulled the whip around the boy’s neck and hissed as her claws touched just below his mask and left eye.

“Don’t do it, Catwoman!” Babs warned. “Batman will come down harder on you than you could even imagine.”

Selina stopped for a moment, still holding Tim. “You stupid bitch. I was there! I saw how battered and bruised he was before he went after Ra’s. I called for help, thought I was saving his life. Only to hear later that he just went and got himself killed anyway!”

This time it was Babs’ turn to be caught off guard. She hadn’t had time to get the whole story from Nightwing or from Alfred, but she could hear the pain in the other woman’s voice. If she was acting, it would put Meryl Streep to shame on her worst day.

“You… you tried to save him?” Babs asked.

“Yeah… for all the good it did. You want this kid, fine. Like I said, I wasn’t here to steal anything worth anything.”

“Then why are you in Vito Bertinelli’s penthouse?” Batwoman countered.

“That’s none of your business. What’s between that scum Bertinelli and me stays between us. Here, take the brat, this place is getting to crowded, anyway.”

With a powerful shove, she practically threw Robin into the other woman and turned, disappearing into the darkness.

Batwoman never even had a chance. By the time she had caught a semi-conscious Tim Drake, and checked on him, the cat was gone. She opened up her mental file and stored the confrontation for another time. She would have to ask Helena if she knew anything that had happened between her father and Catwoman.

“You alright?” Barbara asked, anxiously.

Tim was coughing, rubbing his throat, but he was also nodding. “Except I screwed up. I screwed up big. I just wanted to…” He stopped before he said anything else. He didn’t want anyone knowing why he was there, but he knew it was going to be pretty obvious.

Babs helped him up. “Don’t worry about it. Saving Robin’s from Batman villains is part and par for the package around this town.

“I heard that!” Came Nightwing’s voice from a small radio transceiver on Barbara’s belt.

“Of course you did. Robin is safe and we’re heading back.”

“Meet you there. Just tying up loose ends here. Oh, and inform our little bird that there is going to be a very long discussion when I get there.”

Tim’s head sunk and Babs replied. “Yeah, I think he’s aware of that.” She turned off the communicator and offered the young man her hand. “It’s going to be alright, Tim. This is a rough time for everyone. We’re going to make it through this… I promise you.”

“Thanks… Miss Gordon,” He said.

“How… how did you know?”

“Not that hard to figure out,” Tim managed to smile. “Barbara Gordon shows up in town right after Bruce’s death. She has red hair, you have red hair… it’s just adding two plus two, really.”

Batwoman grinned. “They were right… you are good. Come on, let’s go home. I know you want Bertinelli to pay for your mom’s death. Nightwing filled me in on everything, but this isn’t the way to do it. And to be honest with you… you really aren’t ready to put on that uniform, yet.”

Tim nodded in agreement. “No, I’m not, am I?” And as they left the penthouse he couldn’t help but think to himself: But I am ready to make Vito Bertinelli pay, and one way or the other, I’ll do just that. I swear Mom. He’ll pay…”