"Nonsense son." Bruce's warm fatherly tone sounded weird, coming out of Batman's mouth.
Billy bristled. He never agreed to be Bruce's son. Or a Robin. He continued this charade because his reporter instinct's screaming about Bruce's Al Ghul connection. Superman and Captain Marvel are banned from Gotham, as are all metas. The only way he could dig up the necessary information was by staying undercover as Billy.
Bruce ruffled Billy's hair. "You're perfect for the role." Adrenaline spiked as he watched Damian reach for a dagger.
Thwack!
The blade struck Billy's stomach before anyone could react.
"Ooof!" Billy doubled over from the impact of the dagger, thankful for the Whiz armour that withstood the Assassin's dagger.
"Billy!" Bruce caught him before he hit the ground while Dick held Damian back.
"Damian! You're grounded. Dick, see to it he stays in his room," Batman barked.
"I'm alright," Billy wheezed. "I promised Mister Morris I'd wear Whiz armour all the time I'm here." His sweater's torn and the dagger's damaged the armour but it protected him from getting anything beyond a bad bruise.
"Hmmph," sounding every bit the Dark Knight, Bruce examined Billy's armour, impressed. "Useful upgrades to incorporate into our costumes."
"Whiz tech's better than Bat tech?" Billy couldn't resist that jibe.
"I'll have a word with your boss," B's lips twitched in the semblance of a smile. "Your Robin costume will be doubly reinforced for protection."
"Wait, B. I can't be Robin," Billy protested.
"All you lack is training," Batman squeezed his shoulder. "Once you've completed BRT, you'll be fine."
"BRT?" Billy had never heard of such an acronym.
"Basic Robin Training." B replied.
*
Billy gritted his teeth as he punched the bag, ducking before it could hit him back. The things he goes through to get the story.
"Great going Baby B," chirped Dick, the first Robin, pinching Billy's cheeks, before handing him a protein shake from Agent A.
"I'm not a baby," Billy pouted, accepting Alfred's delicious concoction.
"Sorry about your armour," Dick sat beside Billy, sipping his drink.
"It's okay. Happens all the time," Billy shrugged.
"B. doesn't tolerate killers. He threatened to send Damian back if he ever pulls that stunt again," Dick pulled him into a sweaty, smelly hug.
"Why did the Al Ghuls send him here?" Billy studied Dick, noting the man seemed as open as ever. Or was that an act? "They lead the League of Assassins. Talia's father is the Demon head."
"Bad girl is bonkers over good guy, I guess," Dick frowned. "B. has that effect on the ladies. Talia probably wants him to bond with Bruce and worm her way back into his life through their son."
Billy snorted.
As Captain Marvel, he'd heard of Nightwing's reputation as the lady killer.
"Whatever."
Dick still didn't answer his question. Maybe the Al Ghuls sent Damian as a spy. Batman would have intel on the entire Justice League as well as methods to take down every known hero. The international terrorist would have use for such intel.
"If you've got a spare armour with neck and head guard, I recommend you wear it. I don't think you can dodge flying knives," Dick looked worried. "Damian was trained by his mother to kill without second thoughts."
He had a spare suit, but it had gone missing. He'd reported the loss of his equipment to Mister Morris who wanted him to return to Fawcett immediately. It wasn't easy persuading Mister Morris to let him stay on at Wayne Manor.
Billy never abandoned a story. Not when he's so close. What's the connection between Bruce and the Al Ghuls?
Sure, he's on an undercover mission without Whiz safeguards, but that didn't bug him. He'd been living in the streets, unprotected, long before he received power to transform into Captain Marvel.
"I gotta go back to Bludhaven," Dick slurped the rest of his shake. "Back on the job tomorrow morning."
"Bye, Baby B," he squished Billy's cheeks again.
Billy grimaced. Let Nightwing try to squish Cap's cheeks and see what'll happen to him.
"Watch your back." With that last warning, Dick left.
After a quick shower, Billy resumed his investigations in the manor. On the pretext of doing research for his homework, he examined the book cases and cupboards in the reading rooms. He lucked out. There's a false back behind a shelf.
Holding his breath in anticipation, he retrieved a file slotted behind it. Photos of Bruce as a youth, training with Ras Al Ghul himself caught his eye. Batman learned his skills from the League of Assassins? Heart thumping, Billy photographed the map, and papers in the file. There's something about Lazarus pits.
Thwack!
Billy ducked out of the way of the incoming dagger. It lodged firmly in the wall and would have taken his head off it he had been a second slower.
He peered at the shadow across the room.
Damian!
The boy's eyes glowed green. There's something eerie about him - The demon brat, grandson of the demon head, he shuddered, recalling the stories Dick had told him.
Dick's a good guy. So's Alfred. But Bruce and Damian still creeped him out.
He could transform now and take them in, but without irrefutable evidence, Captain Marvel would end up behind bars while the demons run free.
A dagger nicked his arm. He didn't dodge in time. Ignoring the pain, he crouched, taser gloves activated, ready to take on the leaping assassin. Damian dodged the zap, his sword poised to strike Billy's exposed neck, smacked to the ground by a large orange paw.
"!#$&^!@#!" Damian cursed, slashing at the enormous tiger that pinned him to the ground, earning painful nips for his efforts.
"Tawny?" Billy's heart leaped for joy.
"Run," the tiger growled. "The sooner you get out, the less damage I'll do to this brat."
Sprinting out the manor into the cover of the woods, Billy called down lightning and soared back towards Fawcett.
The Wisdom of Solomon kicked in. As Captain Marvel, he understood what Billy uncovered. His stomach dropped with dread.
*
Clark sat in the booth of Billy's favourite ice cream parlour waiting for his tiny counterpart. The pitter patter of little feet signalled the child's arrival.
"Hey Clark," the itty bitty little boy clamoured up the seat. "What you got?"
"Mortuary records match the guys in the syndicate," Clark hated telling a kid such things but this boy's a seasoned reporter on crime watch. Fawcett, for all its sunny reputation had its share of murders. "These guys were murder victims."
The little boy didn't flinch. "I guessed as much. They were brought back through the Lazarus pits," came the child's quiet reply.
"Ras Al Gul's behind the syndicates?" Clark frowned.
"He may be using Bruce," Billy squeaked. "Damian's been killed and resurrected with the Lazarus pits. Bruce was with the League of Assassins," he showed Clark the evidence.
Clark's heart sank. Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League and the vigilantes in Gotham. "If Bruce is part of the League of Assassins," he thought aloud.
"Then the Justice League would compromised," Billy completed his train of thought. "I'm not sure whether he is, or what his relationship with the League of Assassins is, other than his son is Ras Al Ghul's grandson. His time with them was a decade ago. He could have left them."
"Superman needs to sound Batman out," Clark replied.
Billy buried his face in his hands. "Clark, how can you be so dense? Batman is Bruce Wayne."
"You still believe the airhead Brucie is Batman?" Clark asked.
"I lived with him," Billy pouted. He had a point.
"And now?" Concern welled up over the brave little boy's safety.
"I've moved back to my apartment in Fawcett," Billy shrugged. "Don't worry. Whiz network takes care of all employees. Mister Morris has been like a mother hen since I returned."
"I'll assume Bruce Wayne is Batman then. We'll crack this with our super partners without alerting the Bat," Clark replied to humour the boy.
Billy rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He pulled out a map and showed Clark.
"Some cult rituals to do with the Lazarus pits take place here every decade. The next one's tomorrow night," the tiny boy pursed his lips deep in thought. "Tell Superman to meet Captain Marvel there at five to midnight."