Fawkes

It's not Rocket Science

Turns out I didn't have to make the call, because once I left the infirmary and made my way down to where I figured Robin would be, I opened the doors to the school only to see the man I was about to contact.

I scanned the scene quickly. My eyes found the five criminals, all now in handcuffs and looking utterly defeated as they got shoved into cop cars that surrounded us. There was a news van, and a woman in a blazer trying desperately to interview Robin, who was talking to the policemen. There were sirens in the distance and an ambulance pulling into the parking lot, and Bruce Wayne took charge of the reporter, undoubtedly finding a perfectly good explanation for all of this fuss.

I decided it probably wouldn't be a good idea to waltz out into the scene and cause a big fuss. A schoolgirl covered in blood and grime probably wasn't something I wanted to bring attention to, so I just made eye contact with Robin and gave him a look that said 'come here'.

Then Bruce caught my eye, and he did not look happy. I shouldn't have been surprised.

Both of them began walking over, waving off the press and stalking into the building. They didn't walk together, which was obviously smart considering there were already a gazillion conspiracies on who Batman was. My personal favourite was that Batman was 'just a state of mind'.

I held the door for them, and Bruce's voice was gruff and tired as he opened the entrance to a janitor's closet.

"In here."

We obeyed, and he shut the door behind us. It was just spacey enough for all of us to maintain our personal bubbles, but it smelt of rat poison and hand sanitizer. Not a pleasant combination.

Bruce looked exhausted as he crossed his arms and looked down at us both.

"Could you guys not have been more careful?"

But he wasn't even looking at Robin, his eyes were boring into mine.

I scoffed, "Why is Bird Boy even here if you're just gonna direct all your anger at me?"

"I've had enough of you just thinking you can walk around in public and draw attention to yourself." He was maintaining his calm demeanour as best as he could in my presence.

"Bruce, I—"

"This does not concern you, Robin."

"Then why is he here?" I asked icily, my eyes narrowing and a dangerous tone floating on my tongue.

"Because—"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, "He was just as involved as I was in this whole ordeal. Why not yell at him?"

"Because he was actually smart enough to wear a uniform," Bruce said, "You didn't even wear a mask!"

"I did so!" I stopped, realizing said mask was still in my pocket, "I just took it off half way through. That's not even the point!"

"You're right, the point is that you acted brashly, and put everyone in danger—"

"Everyone?" I scoffed, "Always so dramatic, Brucie."

"You put yourself in danger!"

I stopped and frowned, "that's kind of in the job description."

He sighed and ran a hand down his face, "you could have been seen."

"Oh for Pete's sake!" I laughed mirthlessly, "Are you seriously going on about this again? 'You could have been seen'. How am I supposed to do anything if I'm always worrying about being sighted? What's the Joker gonna do from a cell in Arkham? Send his cronies after me during school, maybe. But I can take them. He's harmless as long as he's locked away!"