The Lives of Robins

Dick didn't bother to disguise his pain anymore, and that, Barbara thought, was the most telling thing. He plopped down in the chair in front of her desk and dropped a thick file folder on her desk.

"Hard copy?" She asked, mouth quirking. "How…Luddite."

"You of all people should know everything that can be done with computers," Dick said. And she did, and appreciated the care they were taking with whatever this was. She reached out to open the folder.

"Don't." His voice stopped her as effectively as Bruce's ever had, back in the day.

"I was part of it too," she said, but she didn't try to look again.

"You weren't a Robin," he said, and she could see the layers in that, even if she only knew what a few of them actually were.

"You think there's going to be another Robin?"

"It's like Tim always said, Batman needs a Robin," Dick said ruefully. "It's only a matter of time."

"This isn't a game," Barbara told him. "You of all people should know that."

"Neither of our injuries was because we were Bats," he reminded her. "But you're right. And that's part of why we all quit. But it's also part of why we stayed as long as we did." His piercing blue eyes reminded her of what it was like when they fought crime together, reminded her why they did it, and why they did it the way they did.

"Dick-"

"Look, just- whenever there's a new Robin. Give it to him. Or her," he added. "Maybe it'll make their path smoother than ours were."

***

It was so schway that he knew Batman, Matt thought, even if he was Terry. And now he was Robin even if Terry said he wouldn't let him. Terry couldn't stop him; he was only Matt's brother.

"Matt McGinnis?" he heard, but didn't recognize the voice. He turned around and saw a woman at least as old as Mom in a wheelchair.

"How do you know who I am?" he asked.

"I used to be in the same business your brother's in," she said.

"Mr. Wayne's assistant?" Matt asked.

"Not exactly," she replied, and he realized what she meant. "You want to get some coffee?" Without waiting for a reply she headed towards the coffee shop.

"So why are you talking to me?" Matt asked. "I mean, can't you just talk to Terry?"

"I'm doing a favor for some friends," she said, and then they ordered their coffee. "My treat," she said and paid for his.

"What friends?" Matt asked.

"The former Robins." She put something down on the table and slid it over to him. "I know hard copy's a bit dated, but trust me when I say that it's a lot more secure than anything electronic. And I don't know what this is, but whatever it is you do not want it to fall into the wrong hands."

"You don't know what it is?" he asked, interest piqued. "Why not?"

"The person who gave it to me asked me not to. Since that's how he was with me, you might want to read it before you decide to show it to anybody."

"But why me?" he asked.

"You're the new Robin, aren't you?" she asked in a voice that didn't carry any further than it had to. Before he could say anything, she had disappeared, although he didn't know how somebody in a wheelchair could just disappear like that.

***

It was a guide, or more specifically a collection of the experiences and knowledge of the former Robins. The preface was very specific about its purpose: We were Robins under the first Batman. Each of us faced challenges greater than most people face in their entire lives, but none of us quit until we were ready. We would rather nobody else make the same mistakes we made, but we know there's nothing we can do about it. So this isn't to convince you to hang up the suit, although it is in part a warning. Instead, this is meant to let you know what it's like to be Robin, the good, the bad, and the ugly of it. Because Being Robin is like nothing else.

Matt read, sometimes in horror (there were pictures, and not good pictures either; pictures of crime scenes and victims and battered Robins), and sometimes in excitement (the Robins each described swinging on jump lines). And when he was done, he didn't quit as Robin.