On Wings of Steel, chapter 2 - Nether
Title: On Wings of Steel
Fandom: Batman
Chapter: 2/?
Author: SiriuslyLupin
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst, mild language, parenthood/children, violence
Summary: Before he was Robin, he was Dick Grayson, youthful ward of millionaire Bruce Wayne. Little does Dick know, however, that Bruce is leading a double life, one that repeatedly leaves Dick feeling left out. Sick and tired of being let down by the man he's coming to see as a father, Dick is determined to find out what his guardian is up to. Meanwhile, Batman is caught up in a game of wits with the Riddler, one that results in Dick becoming even more wrapped up in his guardian's secret life than Bruce ever wanted him to. [Prequel to the 1966 Batman television series.]
Word count: 11,141 and counting
When we last left young Dick Grayson, he was seemingly trapped in his guardian’s study with nowhere to go. With Alfred quickly approaching on the other side of the door, is there any way out for Bruce Wayne’s young ward? The answer shall soon be yours!
On Wings of Steel
Chapter 2 - Nether
When Dick heard the doorknob rattle, that got him moving. It was like someone had lit a fire underneath him all of a sudden. Dick’s eyes locked on the only thing big enough in the room to possibly hide him - the desk.
Almost without even stopping to think about it, Dick bolted around the desk. He latched on to the back of the large leather chair behind it, trying desperately to steady himself. The chair itself scooted several feet out from the desk, revealing the cubbyhole underneath, the place where a person would put their legs. The front panel of the desk came all the way down to the floor, so it provided the perfect hiding place! Dick didn’t know why he didn’t think of it sooner.
He immediately dropped down to his hands and knees, beginning to scurry underneath the desk. It was then, however, that he remembered he had left his algebra homework sitting on top of the desk. Cursing quietly under his breath, Dick hurriedly climbed to his feet, retrieved his algebra book, and then wasted no time in dashing back to his hiding place. He curled up unto a ball, pressing himself as tightly into the underside of the desk as he could. Closing his eyes tightly, he hugged his books against his chest almost as if they were a shield and might provide some sort of protection in case he was found out.
Just then, the study door opened, Alfred’s patent-leather shoes whispering quietly against the carpet. A few seconds later, Dick heard Alfred picking up the receiver of the still beeping phone. Dick’s heart had been pounding so furiously, his blood pumping so loudly in his ears, he had almost forgotten that the phone had even been making a sound at all.
“I’m sorry, Commissioner,” Alfred said quietly, “but he has not yet returned.”
Dick frowned deeply. Was he talking to the police commissioner? What in the world would the commissioner be doing calling Bruce? Moreover, what on earth would Bruce be doing with what appeared to be a direct line straight to the commissioner’s office?
“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “Give me a moment.”
Alfred replaced the receiver in its cradle before coming around to the other side of the desk. Dick’s heartbeat once again sped up. He was certain that Alfred knew he was there. The butler was going to peek under the desk and tell him to come out, because he was caught. It was all over.
That, however, didn’t happen. Alfred didn’t seem the least bit interested in the desk or the frightened little boy that was quivering underneath it. From his hiding spot, Dick could just see Alfred’s legs retreating to the far side of the study. At first, Dick thought he was going to search the shelves for a book, but no. Alfred reached for a particular book in white leather that looked a bit out of place with all the other black and brown leather-bound books. Alfred pulled the top of the book slightly back from the rest of the books before replacing it. At first, nothing happened, but then a deep, wooden sliding sound permeated the room.
Dick knew it! Alfred was opening a secret passage of some sort! Now that Dick looked at it, why didn’t he notice that bright white book at first glance? It seemed so obvious now, as if it was just waiting for someone to reach out for it.
The bookcase itself began moving, sliding sideways and out of sight. It was then, however, that Dick realized it wasn’t a secret passage at all like he had been expecting. Behind the bookcase was another set of sliding doors to what appeared to be a service elevator. Alfred pressed a small red button in a panel just to the right of these doors and waited. A moment later, the doors slid open and Alfred disappeared inside, apparently taking the elevator to another floor.
Dick sat there for a while longer, allowing his heart rate to return to normal and mulling over the things that had happened. So there was a secret elevator hidden behind the wall. Not exactly the earth-shattering secret Dick had been hoping to uncover, but interesting nonetheless. Why go to the effort of camouflaging a simple elevator? With a house the size of Wayne manor, it wasn’t completely unexpected for there to be an elevator for the staff to use. The question was, where did it lead? It obviously had to be hiding something for it to be in such a secret location.
And then there was the little matter of the phone. Dick couldn’t imagine what business Bruce could have with the commissioner that would warrant something like that. Bruce spoke to the commissioner sometimes about various social and fundraising events going on in the city as well as about Wayne Foundation activities, but the normal phone line worked just fine for that. Why would they need what seemed to be a special sort of hotline, just for the two of them to communicate? At least, Dick assumed it was just for the two of them.
Slowly, Dick reached his hand up, hooking his fingers over the top edge of the desk. He pulled himself up, still feeling nervous and shaky over what had gone on. He looked back over his shoulder and swallowed, checking to make sure that Alfred really was gone. Dick was dying to run over to the elevator and press that red button so he could find out where it went, but that wasn’t currently an option. Alfred had just used it, and it wouldn’t be prudent to summon it at the moment. The butler would be left wondering just who was using it if Bruce still wasn’t home.
Dick looked back at that bright red phone, wanting nothing more than to pick it up, press that big button in the center, and ask whoever was on the other end just what in the hell was going on. Dick’s mind felt like it was buzzing with all of the information it had just taken in, but he still wasn’t any closer to finding out just what Bruce was up to.
Dick didn’t know what to do. He felt stuck at the moment. His only avenue to explore was the elevator and to find out where it could possibly lead, but he’d have to wait until he was sure Alfred wasn’t using it anymore. Dick didn’t know what else he could possibly look into. Surely there wouldn’t be any other secret passages in the study that he could explore. Perhaps, Dick thought, he should just return to the living room and relegate himself to a long night of very boring algebra homework. What else was there to do?
Then again, maybe he could wait there. Would Alfred be returning to the study after he finished whatever errand he had to run for the commissioner? Would he be calling the commissioner back to let him know that he had done so? Dick supposed he could stay hidden under the desk for a while longer to wait for Alfred. If he did indeed call the commissioner back, Dick could gain all sorts of information from another phone call.
Did he want to do this though? Did he really want to remain in his hiding place indefinitely, like some sort of spy? Dick still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong. Like he was breaking all sorts of unspoken rules, and worst of all, that he was betraying Bruce’s trust simply by being in there.
The truth was - and as silly as it sounded - Dick really wished Bruce was there. It really wouldn’t do him much good at the moment, since Bruce was the one he was disobeying. Bruce, however, was the one that Dick always went to when he was feeling confused and didn’t know where else to turn. But who could he go to now?
Dick wasn’t sure that he could simply confront Bruce about what it was he was up to. As much as Dick wanted to know, Bruce was entitled to his privacy, and he didn’t have to tell Dick anything. Dick imagined Bruce giving him that look - that stern one when Dick had done something he shouldn’t - and just telling Dick to mind his own business. Surely Bruce wouldn’t put it quite that rudely or bluntly, but he just might say something along those lines. Dick didn’t think he could bear to be put in that position. He didn’t like doing anything that would earn him Bruce’s disapproval, so in a way, Bruce really was his moral compass. If Dick thought that Bruce would be upset in him in any way for something, then Dick simply wouldn’t do it.
Except for sneaking into Bruce’s study in the first place, of course. Sighing, Dick decided he should just go on out to the living room, work on his homework, and mind his own business once and for all. As curious as he was, he simply didn’t like doing this - intruding on Bruce’s private life. If it was something that Bruce wanted to share with him, then he would. Dick really wished Bruce would, and he felt left out that it wasn’t something he was privy to, but…this wasn’t right.
Once again hugging his books to his chest, Dick pushed the chair back under the desk where it belonged. He slowly walked around to the front of the desk, still not entirely certain that he was ready to give up his search. But he knew that that really was the best option. He didn’t like this, and thinking about Bruce as his moral compass really hit that thought home for him.
If Bruce wanted to share this with him, Dick would be more than ready to listen. But Dick would no longer try and find out on his own. He wouldn’t.
Coming around the corner of the desk, Dick’s elbow gently bumped into the sculpted bust of Shakespeare that sat next to the bright red phone. Dick was expecting an explosion of pain to go shooting up his arm from the hard stone, but that didn’t happen. In fact, the statue felt oddly light, like it wasn’t made from stone at all, but perhaps a wood or plastic of some sort.
Dick stopped, tilting his head and eyeing the bust closely. Reaching out a hand, he brushed the tips of his fingers against the head, feeling to see if he could figure out just what kind of material it was made from. But then something else caught his interest. The head moved slightly, like it wasn’t fully attached to the rest of the statue at all. Dick prodded at it again, more firmly this time, feeling it give way under his fingers. As soon as Dick let go, however, it returned to his previous position. Was it on a hinge of some sort? Did it maybe bend another way?
Bending down, Dick leaned in close to the bust, looking for any sign of the secrets it held. And then he saw it. A small strip of metal was affixed to the back of Shakespeare’s neck, and that was exactly what it looked like - a hinge! Grabbing the skull of the statue tightly, Dick tipped it backwards. It went easily until Shakespeare was staring straight up at the ceiling like he’d just been beheaded.
It had revealed a small, round knob of some sort, which was seated right in the middle of Shakespeare’s neck where his spine would have been. Just above this was a small yellow light, apparently to indicate when the knob was turned.
Dick’s fingers tightened around the shoulders of the statue. His heart had begun to pound anew, but he stood frozen to his spot. This was what he had been looking for - the secret that he knew this study had to be hiding. But did he dare turn the knob? Did he dare go beyond the boundary of truly breaking Bruce’s trust?
Plus, there was the little matter of Alfred. Dick had no idea where the butler was at the moment. What if any further snooping brought him face to face with Alfred? Would he be scolded? Would Alfred go to Bruce about what Dick had been doing? Again, the look of disappointment that would inevitably cross Bruce’s face when he found out was almost too much for Dick to bear.
This was getting ridiculous, Dick decided. Either he was going to do this or he wasn’t. Either go back out to the living room and do his homework, or…see where the rabbit hole led. Yes or no? Black or white? Which one was it going to be?
After nearly another minute of indecision, Dick finally just threw caution to the wind and turned the switch. He really wasn’t sure what had come over him in that moment, what had possessed him to finally cross that line. Perhaps it was the frustration of Bruce’s broken promises simply getting to him. If Dick stood there not knowing for a moment longer, he really felt like he was going to go crazy. Some insane compulsion seemed to grip him in that instant, and he’d done it.
Dick almost couldn’t believe he had. It was unreal, like arriving home from school that afternoon and not being able to comprehend that he had Bruce were finally going to go on their long-awaited weekend away. Had that only been a few short hours ago? It now almost seemed like forever. So much had happened since then, and Dick felt like he had spent an eternity getting to this point. To be fair, time often seemed like that to him when Bruce wasn’t around - waiting for his father figure, his best friend to return so that they could do something together.
Perhaps it was that thought that had finally spurred him on. Dick spent so very much time waiting. Waiting for Bruce to get home. Waiting for Bruce to keep his promises when they had plans together. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And Dick wasn’t going to do it anymore.
Dick barely had time to feel ashamed for his thoughts and actions when he heard another wooden scraping sound emanating from behind him. His breath catching in his throat, Dick whirled around to see where it had come from.
Unable to believe his eyes, Dick saw yet another bookcase sliding open. He had to blink several times, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t imagining things. Yet another secret exit hiding in this study? Dick wondered just how many there were, just how many things Bruce might be hiding from him.
Dick realized that a large, vertical pole of some sort had been revealed behind the bookcase, almost like one might see at a fire station. Drawing in a jagged breath, Dick slowly and carefully crossed the room, almost afraid that the pole might come to life and attack him, as crazy as that sounded. Dick knew that couldn’t happen, but he was really getting into some complicated territory here. Not only was he in Bruce’s private study where he had already been forbidden to go, but he was discovering things that he obviously wasn’t supposed to know. This room was off limits for a reason.
Dick was breaking so very many rules, but he was in way too far now to turn back. He simply had to know where this secret passage led to. He’d never be able to forget it now, to pretend like he had never seen it. To act like everything was normal with Bruce when Dick didn’t know if it would ever be again. He couldn’t.
It was then that Dick noticed the writing on the wall behind the pole. He didn’t know how he had missed it, because it was painted on the cement blocks in large black letters:
ACCESS TO BATCAVE VIA BATPOLE
Dick froze in his steps, not sure if he believed what he was seeing. Curling his hands into fists, he rubbed at his eyes harshly, as if he had just woken up from some strange dream. But when he looked up back up again, the writing on the wall was still there.
This was insane. He wasn’t seeing this. He wasn’t. It couldn’t be real. Never in all time wondering what secrets Wayne manor held did he ever imagine that it was hiding the Batcave all this time. That Dick had been sitting on this deeply buried secret for so long, and it had never even occurred to him. It had never even crossed his mind that this was what Bruce had been keeping from him.
A part of Dick, however, still wondered if it was all for Bruce. Who else would it be - Alfred or Aunt Harriet? Dick snickered at the thought of the butler and his elderly aunt running around in a Batsuit, but Bruce? Was that what Bruce had been doing all this time? Donning a cape and cowl and fighting crime? It sounded a bit far-fetched, even with the evidence as plain as day staring him in the face, but no one else was allowed in the study. It had to be Bruce, didn’t it?
Dick crossed the remaining space to the opening, but when he got to the edge of the floor, he stopped. He looked down at where the pole led, into the depths of Wayne manor, but he couldn’t see much of anything from his position. Just solid walls framing what looked to be a drop of at least twenty feet. Maybe more. It was much too dark at the bottom to make out anything clearly.
Was Dick really going to do this? Was he really going to slide down this pole with absolutely no idea where it led or what he was getting himself into? He was in way too far over his head now, but the thought still scared him. Was the Batcave really down there in the bowels of the mansion? If so, what other secrets did Bruce’s study keep hidden?
Dick set his books down on the small end table just to the left of the opening the bookcase had left. All of a sudden, he didn’t care that he was leaving his homework lying around or who might spot it. All he was worried about was finding out what was at the bottom of this shaft. He was still scared about what might be down there, but his curiosity was currently overriding that.
The pole leading downwards was painted a shimmery golden color, making it seem all the more enticing. Dick reached out both his hands, wrapping them tightly around the cool metal. He began breathing hard, his shoulders heaving with everything breath in and out. A part of him was terrified of what he might find, but excitement was also coursing through this body at finally uncovering the secret that Bruce had been hiding.
He lifted one foot up off the soft, beige carpet of the study. He paused for a very long time, almost too afraid to jump or move any further. Taking one last deep breath, he finally used his other foot like a springboard, pushing himself towards the pole. He gripped it even tighter, wrapping his legs around it and letting himself fall.
Dick closed his eyes on the way down. It was terrifying not knowing when or how he was going to land, but it was also exhilarating. He vaguely remembered a similar pole on a playground he had gone to long ago with his parents. It wasn’t nearly as long as this one - only about five feet tall - but it had been his favorite thing to do on said playground. A sudden memory of his father waiting for him on the ground as he slid down the pole flashed in front of his eyes. How Dick had laughed, his father reaching out his arms for his son to make sure he didn’t land too hard. His father’s safe and unfailing arms.
All of a sudden, Dick landed, which pulled him out of his reverie. The landing wasn’t at all rough like he had been expecting. Rather, something soft and welcoming had cushioned his fall. When Dick dared to look down, he saw that he had landed on a large piece of foam which enveloped the entire pole. At least that was a relief, he supposed. He had almost been expecting to land hard on a cement floor since this basically was a basement.
The next thing he noticed was a large box on the wall to his left with a blue light and a switch on it. The sign just above this box read:
COMPRESSED STEAM BATPOLE LIFT
Assuming that this was what would take him back upstairs, Dick decided to ignore it for the time being. After all, he had dug himself deep enough by pressing buttons that he didn’t know the functions of.
When Dick looked up to take in the rest of the room, a soft gasp escaped his throat. The room that spread out before him wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. Even with the writing on the walls, he was still almost envisioning a normal type of cellar, something with plain stone walls and perhaps cardboard boxes for storage or something similar. But no.
He wasn’t even sure what he was seeing at first, but it certainly wasn’t a run-of-the-mill basement at all. The walls seemed to be made of actual stone rather than plain cement blocks. They were high and rounded at the top, forming the roof of the cave. Obviously. It was the Batcave after all. Dick had heard it mentioned here and there on the news as Batman’s ultra high-tech hideout, but he had never imagined it to be an actual cave. He’d thought that was just a name for it. Nor had he imagined all of this to be hiding under Wayne manor.
That, however, wasn’t what was so fascinating. Filling up the enormous space were mounds of futuristic equipment, something he would expect to find in a science fiction movie. Again, he was aware that such things existed in the Batcave, but seeing them was a different story altogether. Some of these devices appeared to be computers, but there were others that were completely odd and foreign to him. Some of them had weird blinking lights, while others had all kinds of levers and moving parts.
The really strange thing, however, was that they were all labeled with little wooden plaques. He couldn’t read any of them from where he was standing, so he finally let go of the pole and stepped off the mound of foam that had cushioned his fall. In front of him were four steps which led downwards. He took them carefully, feeling odd about intruding on such a place that was so beyond him.
Dick’s boots echoed throughout the cave on the hard cement floor as he went. He looked about for any sign of either Bruce or Alfred, but the place remained entirely quiet except for him. The very first piece of equipment he came to was facing away from him, so he laid his hand on its smooth metal surface, carefully walking around to the front of it. It was a large metal box with blinking red and orange lights flashing underneath what looked to be a piece of glass set into its top. The sign on top of it, however, was what immediately caught Dick’s attention:
BAT CRIME ANALYZER
“Oh, my…” Dick’s breathed, but his words died in his throat.
Dick didn’t move from his spot, and he couldn’t see any of the signs on the other pieces of equipment, but he knew without a doubt that they were all labeled similarly. And he didn’t need to see any more. He didn’t know why the writing on the walls, why the cave itself apparently hadn’t been enough, but it was actually this piece of equipment seemed to hit home for him.
A part of him knew what all of these words meant, what this cave meant, but another part of him was simply not willing to believe it. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Could it? Even with the words as plain as day, Dick still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
Was this really happening? He still thought that he was having a completely crazy dream that he still hadn’t awoken from. Reaching across his chest with his right hand, he pinched his left arm hard through his sweatshirt. He flinched from the pain, but still he stood there, the apparent Batcave spread out before him.
Dick’s throat suddenly felt almost too tight for him to breath. The atmosphere of the cave was nearly suffocating. He gripped the corner of the console tightly, taking a moment to look around the room and trying to calm himself. On a desk on the far side of the room was yet another bright red phone, which matched the one from up in the study. Then, across from that stood the oddest piece of equipment yet. It almost appeared to be a nuclear reactor of some sort, like he had read about in school. There was a large warning sign at top, advising caution:
ATOMIC PILE
KEEP OFF
SUPER HIGH, HIGH VOLTAGE
This was just insane. Things like this didn’t exist in real life. But Dick didn’t know what else to make out of the evidence that was staring him in the face. He didn’t need to investigate any further to come to the conclusion: Bruce was Batman. There was no denying it anymore, no more trying to explain it away.
But that simply didn’t make any sense. How could Bruce be Batman? On the other hand, however, it made all the sense in the world. It would certainly help explain why Bruce was constantly running off at the most inopportune moments. It would explain why he could never make any solid plans with Dick. Why he always ended up canceling and disappearing for hours on end. He was fighting crime.
“Oh my god, Bruce,” Dick whispered, his voice cracking on his mentor’s name.
Dick suddenly didn’t care about Bruce finding out that he had been snooping around, that he had violated Bruce’s trust in the most glaring way possible. Dick didn’t care about the disappointed expression that was bound to cross Bruce’s face. Dick simply didn’t care. All he wanted in that moment was to talk to Bruce, to tell him he knew. For Bruce to help him make sense out of all this.
Dick didn’t know if he was being foolish, but was it too stupid to hope that Bruce would be relieved? Would Bruce be happy that he no longer had to lie and hide things from Dick? That he could finally be completely honest with his ward about what he was doing all the time? About why Bruce constantly had to bail on all the plans they made? Or would Bruce be completely angry? Would he hate Dick for intruding on his privacy? Would he be mad that Dick had done something he promised he would never do?
But still, Dick only wanted to talk to him. Dick felt like he had so many questions to ask, so many things to say to the man that he now respected even more than he originally had. Dick already had enormous amounts of respect for Bruce of course, but now it was different. Dick had no idea that Bruce was constantly out risking his life in order to make Gotham City a safer place for everyone. For Dick. For people like Bruce’s and Dick’s parents, who had paid the ultimate price for the crime that ran rampant.
Plus, it also helped to put things into perspective. For so long, Dick had been angry at Bruce for constantly canceling their plans, but now…how in the world could Dick be mad about this? Bruce was already giving as much as he could to Dick and to the city. There was only so much of one man that could go around. Bruce was probably spread so thin as it was and didn’t have much else left to give. In fact, knowing what he knew now, Dick was rather impressed that Bruce had as much time to devote to his personal life as he did.
Dick suddenly felt horrible for giving Bruce any flack at all. Bruce obviously already had so much on his plate, and Dick could barely imagine just how difficult it was for him. Surely Bruce didn’t like lying to Dick all the time, and he was actually out fighting crime and trying to save people’s lives. It was hardly the millionaire playboy lifestyle that Dick had been envisioning this entire time.
Sighing, Dick leaned back against the console and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt like he had a lot of making up to do to Bruce, and he really wasn’t quite sure how he was going to go about that. Again, the only thing that Dick really wanted in that moment was just to talk to Bruce. To sit down with him like they had done so often and just discuss things. As much as Dick was still afraid that Bruce would be angry or disappointed in him, Dick was sure that they could work this out if they only talked it through.
He got his wish when, a moment later, a tremendous roaring sound exploded in the Batcave. Dick nearly jumped out of his skin before he saw what appeared to be the Batmobile thundering in through the large opening on the other side of the room. It was almost surreal, actually standing there and watching the Batmobile of all things skidding to a stop before him. He had seen more than enough of Batman on the news and in the newspaper, but to actually see a part of that right in front of him was startling.
As soon as the Batmobile parked, the driver’s side door sprung open to reveal Batman getting out. He didn’t notice the intruder in the Batcave just yet, and Dick’s heart seemed to explode in his chest, waiting for that moment when Batman would notice him. Pushing himself away from the computer, Dick stood up as straight as an arrow, almost like his correct posture would make up for any of the bad things he had done in the last hour or so.
Dick wasn’t even sure how he should address this man before him. He was Batman, but…he was still Bruce, and Dick thought it would be odd to call him anything else. That, however, was really the least of his worries, because now it was the moment of truth. How in the world was Bruce going to react to see Dick standing there in the Batcave? After all they had discussed about Bruce’s study being off-limits, and now here Dick was, exactly where he didn’t belong.
Batman sprinted across the Batcave, apparently towards the pole that would take him back up to the study, but then he spotted his young ward. As soon as his eyes drifted over to Dick, Batman froze in his spot, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.
Dick stared into the eyes beneath the cowl, as if searching for answers, and now there was absolutely no mistaking it. This was his Bruce. It was those same blue eyes staring at him, the very same ones that he looked into all the time whenever he and Bruce sat down for a heart-to-heart. It was him.
What now?
Yes, what now, Batfans?!
How will Batman react to seeing Dick in the Batcave?
How can Dick possibly explain himself?
Will things ever be the same between them again?
For the answers to these and more terrifying questions,
Tune in next time…
Same fan site…
Same fan channel.
Keep your Batwings crossed until then!
Fandom: Batman
Chapter: 2/?
Author: SiriuslyLupin
Rating: PG
Warnings: angst, mild language, parenthood/children, violence
Summary: Before he was Robin, he was Dick Grayson, youthful ward of millionaire Bruce Wayne. Little does Dick know, however, that Bruce is leading a double life, one that repeatedly leaves Dick feeling left out. Sick and tired of being let down by the man he's coming to see as a father, Dick is determined to find out what his guardian is up to. Meanwhile, Batman is caught up in a game of wits with the Riddler, one that results in Dick becoming even more wrapped up in his guardian's secret life than Bruce ever wanted him to. [Prequel to the 1966 Batman television series.]
Word count: 11,141 and counting
When we last left young Dick Grayson, he was seemingly trapped in his guardian’s study with nowhere to go. With Alfred quickly approaching on the other side of the door, is there any way out for Bruce Wayne’s young ward? The answer shall soon be yours!
On Wings of Steel
Chapter 2 - Nether
When Dick heard the doorknob rattle, that got him moving. It was like someone had lit a fire underneath him all of a sudden. Dick’s eyes locked on the only thing big enough in the room to possibly hide him - the desk.
Almost without even stopping to think about it, Dick bolted around the desk. He latched on to the back of the large leather chair behind it, trying desperately to steady himself. The chair itself scooted several feet out from the desk, revealing the cubbyhole underneath, the place where a person would put their legs. The front panel of the desk came all the way down to the floor, so it provided the perfect hiding place! Dick didn’t know why he didn’t think of it sooner.
He immediately dropped down to his hands and knees, beginning to scurry underneath the desk. It was then, however, that he remembered he had left his algebra homework sitting on top of the desk. Cursing quietly under his breath, Dick hurriedly climbed to his feet, retrieved his algebra book, and then wasted no time in dashing back to his hiding place. He curled up unto a ball, pressing himself as tightly into the underside of the desk as he could. Closing his eyes tightly, he hugged his books against his chest almost as if they were a shield and might provide some sort of protection in case he was found out.
Just then, the study door opened, Alfred’s patent-leather shoes whispering quietly against the carpet. A few seconds later, Dick heard Alfred picking up the receiver of the still beeping phone. Dick’s heart had been pounding so furiously, his blood pumping so loudly in his ears, he had almost forgotten that the phone had even been making a sound at all.
“I’m sorry, Commissioner,” Alfred said quietly, “but he has not yet returned.”
Dick frowned deeply. Was he talking to the police commissioner? What in the world would the commissioner be doing calling Bruce? Moreover, what on earth would Bruce be doing with what appeared to be a direct line straight to the commissioner’s office?
“Of course, sir,” Alfred said. “Give me a moment.”
Alfred replaced the receiver in its cradle before coming around to the other side of the desk. Dick’s heartbeat once again sped up. He was certain that Alfred knew he was there. The butler was going to peek under the desk and tell him to come out, because he was caught. It was all over.
That, however, didn’t happen. Alfred didn’t seem the least bit interested in the desk or the frightened little boy that was quivering underneath it. From his hiding spot, Dick could just see Alfred’s legs retreating to the far side of the study. At first, Dick thought he was going to search the shelves for a book, but no. Alfred reached for a particular book in white leather that looked a bit out of place with all the other black and brown leather-bound books. Alfred pulled the top of the book slightly back from the rest of the books before replacing it. At first, nothing happened, but then a deep, wooden sliding sound permeated the room.
Dick knew it! Alfred was opening a secret passage of some sort! Now that Dick looked at it, why didn’t he notice that bright white book at first glance? It seemed so obvious now, as if it was just waiting for someone to reach out for it.
The bookcase itself began moving, sliding sideways and out of sight. It was then, however, that Dick realized it wasn’t a secret passage at all like he had been expecting. Behind the bookcase was another set of sliding doors to what appeared to be a service elevator. Alfred pressed a small red button in a panel just to the right of these doors and waited. A moment later, the doors slid open and Alfred disappeared inside, apparently taking the elevator to another floor.
Dick sat there for a while longer, allowing his heart rate to return to normal and mulling over the things that had happened. So there was a secret elevator hidden behind the wall. Not exactly the earth-shattering secret Dick had been hoping to uncover, but interesting nonetheless. Why go to the effort of camouflaging a simple elevator? With a house the size of Wayne manor, it wasn’t completely unexpected for there to be an elevator for the staff to use. The question was, where did it lead? It obviously had to be hiding something for it to be in such a secret location.
And then there was the little matter of the phone. Dick couldn’t imagine what business Bruce could have with the commissioner that would warrant something like that. Bruce spoke to the commissioner sometimes about various social and fundraising events going on in the city as well as about Wayne Foundation activities, but the normal phone line worked just fine for that. Why would they need what seemed to be a special sort of hotline, just for the two of them to communicate? At least, Dick assumed it was just for the two of them.
Slowly, Dick reached his hand up, hooking his fingers over the top edge of the desk. He pulled himself up, still feeling nervous and shaky over what had gone on. He looked back over his shoulder and swallowed, checking to make sure that Alfred really was gone. Dick was dying to run over to the elevator and press that red button so he could find out where it went, but that wasn’t currently an option. Alfred had just used it, and it wouldn’t be prudent to summon it at the moment. The butler would be left wondering just who was using it if Bruce still wasn’t home.
Dick looked back at that bright red phone, wanting nothing more than to pick it up, press that big button in the center, and ask whoever was on the other end just what in the hell was going on. Dick’s mind felt like it was buzzing with all of the information it had just taken in, but he still wasn’t any closer to finding out just what Bruce was up to.
Dick didn’t know what to do. He felt stuck at the moment. His only avenue to explore was the elevator and to find out where it could possibly lead, but he’d have to wait until he was sure Alfred wasn’t using it anymore. Dick didn’t know what else he could possibly look into. Surely there wouldn’t be any other secret passages in the study that he could explore. Perhaps, Dick thought, he should just return to the living room and relegate himself to a long night of very boring algebra homework. What else was there to do?
Then again, maybe he could wait there. Would Alfred be returning to the study after he finished whatever errand he had to run for the commissioner? Would he be calling the commissioner back to let him know that he had done so? Dick supposed he could stay hidden under the desk for a while longer to wait for Alfred. If he did indeed call the commissioner back, Dick could gain all sorts of information from another phone call.
Did he want to do this though? Did he really want to remain in his hiding place indefinitely, like some sort of spy? Dick still couldn’t shake the feeling that he was doing something wrong. Like he was breaking all sorts of unspoken rules, and worst of all, that he was betraying Bruce’s trust simply by being in there.
The truth was - and as silly as it sounded - Dick really wished Bruce was there. It really wouldn’t do him much good at the moment, since Bruce was the one he was disobeying. Bruce, however, was the one that Dick always went to when he was feeling confused and didn’t know where else to turn. But who could he go to now?
Dick wasn’t sure that he could simply confront Bruce about what it was he was up to. As much as Dick wanted to know, Bruce was entitled to his privacy, and he didn’t have to tell Dick anything. Dick imagined Bruce giving him that look - that stern one when Dick had done something he shouldn’t - and just telling Dick to mind his own business. Surely Bruce wouldn’t put it quite that rudely or bluntly, but he just might say something along those lines. Dick didn’t think he could bear to be put in that position. He didn’t like doing anything that would earn him Bruce’s disapproval, so in a way, Bruce really was his moral compass. If Dick thought that Bruce would be upset in him in any way for something, then Dick simply wouldn’t do it.
Except for sneaking into Bruce’s study in the first place, of course. Sighing, Dick decided he should just go on out to the living room, work on his homework, and mind his own business once and for all. As curious as he was, he simply didn’t like doing this - intruding on Bruce’s private life. If it was something that Bruce wanted to share with him, then he would. Dick really wished Bruce would, and he felt left out that it wasn’t something he was privy to, but…this wasn’t right.
Once again hugging his books to his chest, Dick pushed the chair back under the desk where it belonged. He slowly walked around to the front of the desk, still not entirely certain that he was ready to give up his search. But he knew that that really was the best option. He didn’t like this, and thinking about Bruce as his moral compass really hit that thought home for him.
If Bruce wanted to share this with him, Dick would be more than ready to listen. But Dick would no longer try and find out on his own. He wouldn’t.
Coming around the corner of the desk, Dick’s elbow gently bumped into the sculpted bust of Shakespeare that sat next to the bright red phone. Dick was expecting an explosion of pain to go shooting up his arm from the hard stone, but that didn’t happen. In fact, the statue felt oddly light, like it wasn’t made from stone at all, but perhaps a wood or plastic of some sort.
Dick stopped, tilting his head and eyeing the bust closely. Reaching out a hand, he brushed the tips of his fingers against the head, feeling to see if he could figure out just what kind of material it was made from. But then something else caught his interest. The head moved slightly, like it wasn’t fully attached to the rest of the statue at all. Dick prodded at it again, more firmly this time, feeling it give way under his fingers. As soon as Dick let go, however, it returned to his previous position. Was it on a hinge of some sort? Did it maybe bend another way?
Bending down, Dick leaned in close to the bust, looking for any sign of the secrets it held. And then he saw it. A small strip of metal was affixed to the back of Shakespeare’s neck, and that was exactly what it looked like - a hinge! Grabbing the skull of the statue tightly, Dick tipped it backwards. It went easily until Shakespeare was staring straight up at the ceiling like he’d just been beheaded.
It had revealed a small, round knob of some sort, which was seated right in the middle of Shakespeare’s neck where his spine would have been. Just above this was a small yellow light, apparently to indicate when the knob was turned.
Dick’s fingers tightened around the shoulders of the statue. His heart had begun to pound anew, but he stood frozen to his spot. This was what he had been looking for - the secret that he knew this study had to be hiding. But did he dare turn the knob? Did he dare go beyond the boundary of truly breaking Bruce’s trust?
Plus, there was the little matter of Alfred. Dick had no idea where the butler was at the moment. What if any further snooping brought him face to face with Alfred? Would he be scolded? Would Alfred go to Bruce about what Dick had been doing? Again, the look of disappointment that would inevitably cross Bruce’s face when he found out was almost too much for Dick to bear.
This was getting ridiculous, Dick decided. Either he was going to do this or he wasn’t. Either go back out to the living room and do his homework, or…see where the rabbit hole led. Yes or no? Black or white? Which one was it going to be?
After nearly another minute of indecision, Dick finally just threw caution to the wind and turned the switch. He really wasn’t sure what had come over him in that moment, what had possessed him to finally cross that line. Perhaps it was the frustration of Bruce’s broken promises simply getting to him. If Dick stood there not knowing for a moment longer, he really felt like he was going to go crazy. Some insane compulsion seemed to grip him in that instant, and he’d done it.
Dick almost couldn’t believe he had. It was unreal, like arriving home from school that afternoon and not being able to comprehend that he had Bruce were finally going to go on their long-awaited weekend away. Had that only been a few short hours ago? It now almost seemed like forever. So much had happened since then, and Dick felt like he had spent an eternity getting to this point. To be fair, time often seemed like that to him when Bruce wasn’t around - waiting for his father figure, his best friend to return so that they could do something together.
Perhaps it was that thought that had finally spurred him on. Dick spent so very much time waiting. Waiting for Bruce to get home. Waiting for Bruce to keep his promises when they had plans together. Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And Dick wasn’t going to do it anymore.
Dick barely had time to feel ashamed for his thoughts and actions when he heard another wooden scraping sound emanating from behind him. His breath catching in his throat, Dick whirled around to see where it had come from.
Unable to believe his eyes, Dick saw yet another bookcase sliding open. He had to blink several times, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t imagining things. Yet another secret exit hiding in this study? Dick wondered just how many there were, just how many things Bruce might be hiding from him.
Dick realized that a large, vertical pole of some sort had been revealed behind the bookcase, almost like one might see at a fire station. Drawing in a jagged breath, Dick slowly and carefully crossed the room, almost afraid that the pole might come to life and attack him, as crazy as that sounded. Dick knew that couldn’t happen, but he was really getting into some complicated territory here. Not only was he in Bruce’s private study where he had already been forbidden to go, but he was discovering things that he obviously wasn’t supposed to know. This room was off limits for a reason.
Dick was breaking so very many rules, but he was in way too far now to turn back. He simply had to know where this secret passage led to. He’d never be able to forget it now, to pretend like he had never seen it. To act like everything was normal with Bruce when Dick didn’t know if it would ever be again. He couldn’t.
It was then that Dick noticed the writing on the wall behind the pole. He didn’t know how he had missed it, because it was painted on the cement blocks in large black letters:
ACCESS TO BATCAVE VIA BATPOLE
Dick froze in his steps, not sure if he believed what he was seeing. Curling his hands into fists, he rubbed at his eyes harshly, as if he had just woken up from some strange dream. But when he looked up back up again, the writing on the wall was still there.
This was insane. He wasn’t seeing this. He wasn’t. It couldn’t be real. Never in all time wondering what secrets Wayne manor held did he ever imagine that it was hiding the Batcave all this time. That Dick had been sitting on this deeply buried secret for so long, and it had never even occurred to him. It had never even crossed his mind that this was what Bruce had been keeping from him.
A part of Dick, however, still wondered if it was all for Bruce. Who else would it be - Alfred or Aunt Harriet? Dick snickered at the thought of the butler and his elderly aunt running around in a Batsuit, but Bruce? Was that what Bruce had been doing all this time? Donning a cape and cowl and fighting crime? It sounded a bit far-fetched, even with the evidence as plain as day staring him in the face, but no one else was allowed in the study. It had to be Bruce, didn’t it?
Dick crossed the remaining space to the opening, but when he got to the edge of the floor, he stopped. He looked down at where the pole led, into the depths of Wayne manor, but he couldn’t see much of anything from his position. Just solid walls framing what looked to be a drop of at least twenty feet. Maybe more. It was much too dark at the bottom to make out anything clearly.
Was Dick really going to do this? Was he really going to slide down this pole with absolutely no idea where it led or what he was getting himself into? He was in way too far over his head now, but the thought still scared him. Was the Batcave really down there in the bowels of the mansion? If so, what other secrets did Bruce’s study keep hidden?
Dick set his books down on the small end table just to the left of the opening the bookcase had left. All of a sudden, he didn’t care that he was leaving his homework lying around or who might spot it. All he was worried about was finding out what was at the bottom of this shaft. He was still scared about what might be down there, but his curiosity was currently overriding that.
The pole leading downwards was painted a shimmery golden color, making it seem all the more enticing. Dick reached out both his hands, wrapping them tightly around the cool metal. He began breathing hard, his shoulders heaving with everything breath in and out. A part of him was terrified of what he might find, but excitement was also coursing through this body at finally uncovering the secret that Bruce had been hiding.
He lifted one foot up off the soft, beige carpet of the study. He paused for a very long time, almost too afraid to jump or move any further. Taking one last deep breath, he finally used his other foot like a springboard, pushing himself towards the pole. He gripped it even tighter, wrapping his legs around it and letting himself fall.
Dick closed his eyes on the way down. It was terrifying not knowing when or how he was going to land, but it was also exhilarating. He vaguely remembered a similar pole on a playground he had gone to long ago with his parents. It wasn’t nearly as long as this one - only about five feet tall - but it had been his favorite thing to do on said playground. A sudden memory of his father waiting for him on the ground as he slid down the pole flashed in front of his eyes. How Dick had laughed, his father reaching out his arms for his son to make sure he didn’t land too hard. His father’s safe and unfailing arms.
All of a sudden, Dick landed, which pulled him out of his reverie. The landing wasn’t at all rough like he had been expecting. Rather, something soft and welcoming had cushioned his fall. When Dick dared to look down, he saw that he had landed on a large piece of foam which enveloped the entire pole. At least that was a relief, he supposed. He had almost been expecting to land hard on a cement floor since this basically was a basement.
The next thing he noticed was a large box on the wall to his left with a blue light and a switch on it. The sign just above this box read:
COMPRESSED STEAM BATPOLE LIFT
Assuming that this was what would take him back upstairs, Dick decided to ignore it for the time being. After all, he had dug himself deep enough by pressing buttons that he didn’t know the functions of.
When Dick looked up to take in the rest of the room, a soft gasp escaped his throat. The room that spread out before him wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. Even with the writing on the walls, he was still almost envisioning a normal type of cellar, something with plain stone walls and perhaps cardboard boxes for storage or something similar. But no.
He wasn’t even sure what he was seeing at first, but it certainly wasn’t a run-of-the-mill basement at all. The walls seemed to be made of actual stone rather than plain cement blocks. They were high and rounded at the top, forming the roof of the cave. Obviously. It was the Batcave after all. Dick had heard it mentioned here and there on the news as Batman’s ultra high-tech hideout, but he had never imagined it to be an actual cave. He’d thought that was just a name for it. Nor had he imagined all of this to be hiding under Wayne manor.
That, however, wasn’t what was so fascinating. Filling up the enormous space were mounds of futuristic equipment, something he would expect to find in a science fiction movie. Again, he was aware that such things existed in the Batcave, but seeing them was a different story altogether. Some of these devices appeared to be computers, but there were others that were completely odd and foreign to him. Some of them had weird blinking lights, while others had all kinds of levers and moving parts.
The really strange thing, however, was that they were all labeled with little wooden plaques. He couldn’t read any of them from where he was standing, so he finally let go of the pole and stepped off the mound of foam that had cushioned his fall. In front of him were four steps which led downwards. He took them carefully, feeling odd about intruding on such a place that was so beyond him.
Dick’s boots echoed throughout the cave on the hard cement floor as he went. He looked about for any sign of either Bruce or Alfred, but the place remained entirely quiet except for him. The very first piece of equipment he came to was facing away from him, so he laid his hand on its smooth metal surface, carefully walking around to the front of it. It was a large metal box with blinking red and orange lights flashing underneath what looked to be a piece of glass set into its top. The sign on top of it, however, was what immediately caught Dick’s attention:
BAT CRIME ANALYZER
“Oh, my…” Dick’s breathed, but his words died in his throat.
Dick didn’t move from his spot, and he couldn’t see any of the signs on the other pieces of equipment, but he knew without a doubt that they were all labeled similarly. And he didn’t need to see any more. He didn’t know why the writing on the walls, why the cave itself apparently hadn’t been enough, but it was actually this piece of equipment seemed to hit home for him.
A part of him knew what all of these words meant, what this cave meant, but another part of him was simply not willing to believe it. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Could it? Even with the words as plain as day, Dick still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
Was this really happening? He still thought that he was having a completely crazy dream that he still hadn’t awoken from. Reaching across his chest with his right hand, he pinched his left arm hard through his sweatshirt. He flinched from the pain, but still he stood there, the apparent Batcave spread out before him.
Dick’s throat suddenly felt almost too tight for him to breath. The atmosphere of the cave was nearly suffocating. He gripped the corner of the console tightly, taking a moment to look around the room and trying to calm himself. On a desk on the far side of the room was yet another bright red phone, which matched the one from up in the study. Then, across from that stood the oddest piece of equipment yet. It almost appeared to be a nuclear reactor of some sort, like he had read about in school. There was a large warning sign at top, advising caution:
ATOMIC PILE
KEEP OFF
SUPER HIGH, HIGH VOLTAGE
This was just insane. Things like this didn’t exist in real life. But Dick didn’t know what else to make out of the evidence that was staring him in the face. He didn’t need to investigate any further to come to the conclusion: Bruce was Batman. There was no denying it anymore, no more trying to explain it away.
But that simply didn’t make any sense. How could Bruce be Batman? On the other hand, however, it made all the sense in the world. It would certainly help explain why Bruce was constantly running off at the most inopportune moments. It would explain why he could never make any solid plans with Dick. Why he always ended up canceling and disappearing for hours on end. He was fighting crime.
“Oh my god, Bruce,” Dick whispered, his voice cracking on his mentor’s name.
Dick suddenly didn’t care about Bruce finding out that he had been snooping around, that he had violated Bruce’s trust in the most glaring way possible. Dick didn’t care about the disappointed expression that was bound to cross Bruce’s face. Dick simply didn’t care. All he wanted in that moment was to talk to Bruce, to tell him he knew. For Bruce to help him make sense out of all this.
Dick didn’t know if he was being foolish, but was it too stupid to hope that Bruce would be relieved? Would Bruce be happy that he no longer had to lie and hide things from Dick? That he could finally be completely honest with his ward about what he was doing all the time? About why Bruce constantly had to bail on all the plans they made? Or would Bruce be completely angry? Would he hate Dick for intruding on his privacy? Would he be mad that Dick had done something he promised he would never do?
But still, Dick only wanted to talk to him. Dick felt like he had so many questions to ask, so many things to say to the man that he now respected even more than he originally had. Dick already had enormous amounts of respect for Bruce of course, but now it was different. Dick had no idea that Bruce was constantly out risking his life in order to make Gotham City a safer place for everyone. For Dick. For people like Bruce’s and Dick’s parents, who had paid the ultimate price for the crime that ran rampant.
Plus, it also helped to put things into perspective. For so long, Dick had been angry at Bruce for constantly canceling their plans, but now…how in the world could Dick be mad about this? Bruce was already giving as much as he could to Dick and to the city. There was only so much of one man that could go around. Bruce was probably spread so thin as it was and didn’t have much else left to give. In fact, knowing what he knew now, Dick was rather impressed that Bruce had as much time to devote to his personal life as he did.
Dick suddenly felt horrible for giving Bruce any flack at all. Bruce obviously already had so much on his plate, and Dick could barely imagine just how difficult it was for him. Surely Bruce didn’t like lying to Dick all the time, and he was actually out fighting crime and trying to save people’s lives. It was hardly the millionaire playboy lifestyle that Dick had been envisioning this entire time.
Sighing, Dick leaned back against the console and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt like he had a lot of making up to do to Bruce, and he really wasn’t quite sure how he was going to go about that. Again, the only thing that Dick really wanted in that moment was just to talk to Bruce. To sit down with him like they had done so often and just discuss things. As much as Dick was still afraid that Bruce would be angry or disappointed in him, Dick was sure that they could work this out if they only talked it through.
He got his wish when, a moment later, a tremendous roaring sound exploded in the Batcave. Dick nearly jumped out of his skin before he saw what appeared to be the Batmobile thundering in through the large opening on the other side of the room. It was almost surreal, actually standing there and watching the Batmobile of all things skidding to a stop before him. He had seen more than enough of Batman on the news and in the newspaper, but to actually see a part of that right in front of him was startling.
As soon as the Batmobile parked, the driver’s side door sprung open to reveal Batman getting out. He didn’t notice the intruder in the Batcave just yet, and Dick’s heart seemed to explode in his chest, waiting for that moment when Batman would notice him. Pushing himself away from the computer, Dick stood up as straight as an arrow, almost like his correct posture would make up for any of the bad things he had done in the last hour or so.
Dick wasn’t even sure how he should address this man before him. He was Batman, but…he was still Bruce, and Dick thought it would be odd to call him anything else. That, however, was really the least of his worries, because now it was the moment of truth. How in the world was Bruce going to react to see Dick standing there in the Batcave? After all they had discussed about Bruce’s study being off-limits, and now here Dick was, exactly where he didn’t belong.
Batman sprinted across the Batcave, apparently towards the pole that would take him back up to the study, but then he spotted his young ward. As soon as his eyes drifted over to Dick, Batman froze in his spot, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.
Dick stared into the eyes beneath the cowl, as if searching for answers, and now there was absolutely no mistaking it. This was his Bruce. It was those same blue eyes staring at him, the very same ones that he looked into all the time whenever he and Bruce sat down for a heart-to-heart. It was him.
What now?
Yes, what now, Batfans?!
How will Batman react to seeing Dick in the Batcave?
How can Dick possibly explain himself?
Will things ever be the same between them again?
For the answers to these and more terrifying questions,
Tune in next time…
Same fan site…
Same fan channel.
Keep your Batwings crossed until then!