Bruce grinned, his rather ragged beard stretching wide across his smile like a temporary mask. He couldn’t help himself as he replied, “Missed you, Blake… Or should I call you Robin, now?”
He rubbed his chin with a laugh, looking at his fiery little companion. Oh, he had missed this. His travels in the past year, though they may seem to everyone who had missed him as a leisure, had been non-stop training. He had finally built his body to what it used to be, and learned to live through the agonising pain being Batman caused his body.
His travels had seen him in Bangok, Russia, Serbia, everywhere. All for one goal; To fight, underground or tournament or otherwise, just to compete with the best in the business. And he had won. Every single on of his fights he had won, with one thought spurring him on.
If I can become the Batman I once was, I can return. For him…
His Blake, his Robin. The boy who stood angry in front of him, but handsome nonetheless. The key to his happiness, this boy who turned on him with so much anger.
“Perhaps.” He quirked an eyebrow, blocking another of Blake’s blows and disappearing into the shadows with one last cocky grin.
“Or perhaps I’m here to join you.” He called from one position, quickly moving so Blake couldn’t pinpoint his location.
Again, he managed to sneak up behind Blake, grabbing him in a sold embrace. “You should not leave your back so open, it may be the death of you.”
But all playfulness left Bruce’s voice as he sighed, looking at the boy in his arms. “I really did miss you, Blake, if I could have taken you with me..”
Exhaling, he let go of the boy and stood in front of him, unguarded. If hitting him, beating him, was what it took to release the anger Blake felt at his departure, he would take it.
After all, Jonathon Blake has been abandoned enough in his lifetime.
“Don’t call me Robin.” He in fact could not remember why people started calling him Robin. Was it he himself who let the name slip out of his lips, so idiotically? All his life he avoided using his first name to others, and yet he let it become his disguise. It was not long for him to find himself regretting having the public call him Robin.
This infuriating man before him gave him headaches. Blake wanted to tie him down and send him to some tropical islands and then go back to Alfred assuring him Bruce Wayne had settled with a wonderful brand new life.
“Join? Who said-” Blake could not even catch his moves, then he was pulled in for an embrace. It was weird. Since when did Bruce become cuddly to men? “Get off me. And I don’t need you to join me, Mr. Wayne.”
Yet Blake could not deny human contact felt good. It was warm. He somehow understood why back then, Bruce never denied offers from women. Perhaps being a protecter alone in the dark was too cold for a soul.
“I would not have gone with you, you know that very well.” Blake could not leave Gotham, never. Unlike Bruce, who perhaps did listen to Alfred and dreamed for some life without Gotham, Blake could not leave this city for even a day. He could not leave the orphanage and the nids, as well as this riduculously corrupted city. He supposed he would die there, being content of what he gave up for Gotham.
Blake glanced at this man, his idol, the Batman, standing in front of him unguarded, very obviously asking for assault in his gesture. He scowled, turning away from him and heaved a sigh.
“There is no point in doing this, Mr. Wayne. See you later, I suppose.”