Author's note: This is a pre-prequel to Maverick's story Fraternity, showing the relationship between Bruce and Dick. This is not a story, there is no plot, it is really just a scene.
DISCLAIMER: Batman/Bruce and Robin/Dick were created by Bob Kane and are the property of DC Comics, no infringement upon their rights is intended.
Michka was created by me. I saw Michka at a circus, named him myself (it means 'cat' in Rom) and decided to give him to Dick (and even later I took the name for myself). Anyone who wishes to may use him, EXCEPT DC COMICS and WARNER BROTHERS who have to pay me bales of money first!
No Profit will be made from this story. Warning! NO SLASH! (sorry, slashers!)
^v^ ^v^ ^v^ Batman switched off the ignition and looked over at Robin. As was usually the case, his partner's excited chatter had slackened during the drive home and he had fallen asleep long before they reached the entrance to the cave.
"Wake up chum," Batman called, "we're home."
The boy blinked and yawned. Batman unbuckled his safety belt, then turned and released Robin, so that he could lift him out of the car. Though his eyes were open, he said nothing and was practically a dead weight in Batman's arm. The lights were on, but nobody was home, so to speak. "Okay, let's get you out of all this, hmmm?" Batman spoke mostly to himself as he hefted the child on his hip and closed the car door.
At this point he usually would have given him over to Alfred, but unfortunately they were on their own this week. Alfred was away, visiting relatives in England. He had advised Batman not to take Robin out while he was gone, but Robin wanted to go, and it was only meant to be a routine patrol. Unfortunately they had run into some trouble in the form of the Joker. They'd been able to stop the planned heist before any real damage was done, and had what Batman considered only a minor scuffle with the clown's henchmen. Ah, well, no harm done.
Batman removed Robin's cape and gloves with one hand while he carried him to the bathroom in the cave. There he sat him on the counter by the sink, where Robin promptly fell over on his side. Batman almost grinned as he removed the small green boots. "Little tired tonight?"
Robin barely nodded. Batman laid him down in a more comfortable position on his back and opened the catches on the front of his red suit. He eased it off of him, noting that Robin was sweaty and sticky; he'd have to have a bath. Batman sighed inwardly. He'd rather have just wrapped the boy in some blankets and let him sleep, but it would be much easier to get him ready for school in the morning if he bathed him tonight. He opened the taps in the tub and started the warm water running. He went back to Robin and rolled down his tights.
"Ow." Robin mumbled sleepily, without even opening his eyes.
A large bruise was starting to form on Robin's right thigh. He must have taken a hit that Batman hadn't noticed. "Sorry, chum," Batman said quietly, pulling the tights free.
Robin curled up reflexively as the cool air hit his naked skin. Batman reached over and removed the mask, tossing it on top of the rest of the costume, which was in a heap on the floor. "Just a quick bath, then you can go to bed, alright?"
The dark head seemed to nod. Batman removed his own cape and covered the boy with it while he quickly shed his own costume and cowl, donning a bathrobe. He cradled Dick in his arms as he lowered him into the tub. He first washed the boy's hair, rinsing it with the spray nozzle. Once it was wet, Dick's curly hair hung long and thick on his neck and in his eyes. "So that's how Alfred always knows when it's time for a haircut," Bruce commented.
He then soaped a washcloth thoroughly and went to work. Face, ears, neck, arms. He found a slight scratch on Dick's forearm; it wasn't deep but he'd have to put something on it, to ward off infection. It must have happened tonight. Back to the washing, chest, back, there was a light but very large bruise on Dick's back. Possibly from an older injury, last week maybe? It bothered him that he didn't remember, or possibly hadn't even noticed the boy taking a blow to the back. Legs, feet, such small feet, Alfred must have given him a pedicure before he left. Bruce rinsed the cloth and soaped it again.
"Dick? Dickie, look at me," Bruce crooned gently, and the boy's eyes opened. "Here, chum, wash yourself and we'll be all done with the bath." Dick seemed to nod, but didn't raise his arm. Bruce took his hand and put the cloth in it. "Here, take this." Dick let his hand fall back into the water and yawned again. "O - ka-a-ay, or how about if I do it, instead," Bruce laughed quietly. He hauled the boy up on his feet and washed between his legs and around to his bottom, then rinsed him. "There, all done now."
Bruce dried the boy with a large thick bath towel, then laid him back down on the counter and reached into a drawer hoping that Alfred had put another pair of pajamas in after they had dressed Dick in the cave last week. He felt a mass of soft flannel and pulled it out, light blue. Of course he had, how had he dared to doubt Alfred? Bruce pulled the pajama bottoms up Dick's legs, then took a tube of antibiotic ointment out of the medicine cabinet. "Sit up for me, chum." To Bruce's surprise, Dick sleepily obeyed, slumping back against the mirror. "Good boy!" Bruce lightly rubbed the white paste onto the scratch and covered it with a few small bandages.
"Stings," Dick hissed, though he still wasn't really awake. Bruce held him close for a moment.
"I know." He held the neck of the pajama top wide and put it over Dick's head, then pulled the little arms through the sleeves. Dick was probably the most muscular nine year old in Gotham City, but his skin was still rounded by a touch of baby fat, keeping him from looking like a midget wrestler. Bruce marveled at how normal he looked, in fact. Just like any other little boy. Amazing.
Bruce carried Dick up the stairs to the manor. As they reached the door, Dick stirred in his arms.
"Alfred?"
"No, chum it's me, Alfred is away, remember?"
"Oh, Bruce (yawn) . . . I thought you smelled different."
Bruce laughed, "I don't imagine that I smell very good right now."
Dick tightened his arms and legs around Bruce in a hug. "Just not like Alfred."
As they passed the kitchen, the small voice piped up again, "Can I have some milk, please?"
Bruce thought of the correction, 'May I', that would have automatically sprung from Alfred's mouth. "Sure chum." Bruce carried him into the kitchen and plopped him in a chair, then poured milk for both of them.
"And some animal crackers?' Dick asked hopefully.
Was Dick really hungry? Not likely. Would Alfred let him have animal crackers before bed? Probably not. Was he pushing to see if he could get away with it with Bruce? Probably so. "Sounds good to me," Bruce got the box down and poured a small pile out for them. His suspicions were correct, Dick looked at the pile of sweet cookies like they were diamonds.
"Thanks!"
The two of them sat at the table and had their milk and crackers. Bruce put the crackers in his mouth whole. Dick looked at them and identified the animals first, then ate them bite by bite; head, paws, body. Once the pile was gone and the glasses were empty, Bruce stood up. "Let's go to bed, chum."
"Okay," Dick didn't protest as Bruce lifted him in his arms once more. He felt Dick's head fall onto his shoulder before he was halfway up the stairs to his bedroom. Once there he pulled the covers back and laid the boy in bed. He was just tucking him in when he heard Dick mumble something. "isha".
"What?"
"Michka," Dick repeated in a questioning voice.
"Oh, Michka. Just a minute." Bruce looked around and saw the stuffed tiger on the floor beside Dick's bed. It was the type that were sold at circuses, perhaps 20 inches long, with black striped orange fur, another five inches of tail curled to the side, white paws, belly and chin, green plastic eyes and a mouth with white felt fangs sticking out to each side of his pink smile. Michka even had a red felt blanket over his back with tassels and Haley's Circus embroidered on it in gold thread. Dick had brought the toy with him, he had had him all of his life, he said and he never slept without him if he could help it. No doubt that was true, as the worn spots here and there attested. Michka soon became one of the family, though he rarely left Dick's room. Alfred learned that Michka liked tuna melt sandwiches, animal crackers, cookies and brownies, and when those items were on the menu, Dick always requested an extra one "for Michka". Of course Alfred complied, one doesn't want to have hungry tigers roaming the halls after all. Bruce remembered asking Alfred, when Dick had been with them six months or so, if it was normal for a boy his age to be so attached to a stuffed animal.
"Master Dick is an unusual boy in many ways," Alfred had said. There was just a hint of reproach in the comment, which meant Alfred wanted him to leave it alone. Bruce never mentioned it again. In matters of child psychology he trusted Alfred implicitly.
Dick squeezed Michka close to his body, his eyes closed. Bruce finished tucking him in and lightly, almost imperceptibly, kissed his forehead. "Good night, chum. See you in the morning."
^v^ ^v^ ^v^
E-mail Michkaback to The Library at Rue Royale
