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The fight had just started as Batman and Robin as rounded a corner into the alley between the municipal building and a local grocer store, shouts of surprise and a grunt from a heavy hit was soon followed by a crunch against something hard. When they finally saw those involved in the fight, both weren't sure to be impressed or worried about the one of them.
Two of the men still standing wore black jackets and pants, visible holsters with sidearms on their right legs though neither were trying to pull them up. One of them was tall and skinny with dark hair while the other was short and round with blond hair and each were trying and failing to catch their opponent who was both small and agile. A third man, with ginger hair and a nasty scar down his right cheek, was groaning in pain and clenching his head from his collision with the grocer store's wall.
Taking stock of the situation, Robin's lensed-covered eyes immediately fell on the small figure clearly holding his own against the two older men for the moment. He was about the same height as the boy wonder with dark hair, likely black, and light skinned, appearing to be about the same age as him. The outfit, clearly an amateurish attempt to replicate his own, was either dark or navy blue in the limited alley light, as was the hoodless cape he wore. The shoes were simple sneakers though modified with straps to enclose them further, the same with the long gloves on both hands that were either punching or grabbing limbs trying to latch onto him. A quick hike of his left foot slammed into the blond man's chin, sending the older almost flying and colliding with the dumpster, the sound drumming through the corridor. The remaining man almost managed to grab the edge of the cape, only for it to slip out of the dark-haired man's hands when the teen dropped and swept feet out.
"Ah!" the guy cried out as he fell to the ground, stunned from his head hitting the asphalt before the smaller figure was on him and punching him in the right spot to knock him out. The smaller figure stood and was turning to the third gang member only to stop to see the shadows observing him.
An instant grin spread across his young face. "Took you long enough, Batman," he said with a cheerful tone, the grin grew bigger when his eyes, a light colour possibly a silvery grey, locked on the Dark Knight's partner. "Robin too," his voice almost squealing, indicating he was a fan of the boy wonder. "I'm honored."
Robin was about to say something when the glint of a gun being pointed at the other teen caught his eye. Fortunately, Batman was on the guy holding it and it was kicked hard half-way across the alley before a well-placed fist knocked out the ginger. A sound approximate to that of a breathy whistle came from the figure.
"Nice," he said, grin returning to his young face. "Just what I'd expect from Batman."
"Hmmm," the older vigilante grunted, standing to look down at the smaller teen, lensed-covered eyes likely observing this amateur. "And you are?" he asked.
Robin moved close but not towards Batman, waiting for an all clear to jump him, only to be stopped by a glance from the other teenager. That caused the Boy Wonder to pause and wonder if there was more to this guy than a small set of fists and kicks.
"I'm Blue Cloak," the other replied. "I'm kinda just acting as protector of East Gotham since you were too busy to take down a few thugs after they moved in here."
Both Batman and Robin paused. There was clearly something more to this than some kid in a costume going around picking fights with criminals.
"Care to elaborate?" the Dark Knight asked, stance holding steady as if to observe but ready to jump when the time came.
"Some guy called Callus moved in a few weeks ago and started causing a few bad things to happen," the teen related, eyes observing the older man and Robin carefully as well. "The cops here are pretty dumb so they wouldn't know what was going on until it smacked them upside of their fat faces. And the two councillors are clearly in his pocket," teeth gritted against each other. "So, Callus got free run to start running the neighbourhood. Shaking down businesses, bribing security firms to look the other way," there was a pause as a look of vile poisonous rage crossed his face. "Kill or hurt anyone that tries to resist outside their homes for their families to see."
"I see," Batman noted. "I take it that's why you're out here?" he asked. "To get vengeance for someone hurting your family?"
Before the amateur could answer, the older man pounced. Much as he wanted to learn more, he wasn't going to take the chance this so-called Blue Cloak wasn't looking to settle the score himself and become a killer or thug as well. It was better to grab and unmask the kid before he did something stupid.
However, it seemed Blue Cloak had anticipated this and dodged it. As the Dark Knight turned, a quick strike from the teen's left hand managed to jab towards him, leading to a block but an attempt to grab the limb was stopped by a decent hook from the smaller's right. The amateur dodged another attempt to hold him down, whirling on his right foot and letting the cape cover the left foot's first wide swing but not the left hand that slammed right into the older man's right shoulder. The force behind it put Batman off balance just enough so when the left foot appeared again and slammed into his chest, sending him dropping.
Blue Cloak then jumped out of range, breathing heavily, gray eyes watching Robin to see if he'd make a move, only to see the other stand back and observe. The grin returned for a moment. "Deal with Callus, Batman," he said after taking a deep breath. "Or I'll keep beating up thugs until you do."
And then he ran out of the alley and onto the dark street, leaving Batman and Robin behind for a moment. The Dark Knight turned to his young partner.
"Follow him," he said. "I'll deal with these guys after I catch my breath."
Robin nodded but gave no reply, racing off after the other teen. All the while a small smile crossed his face after reviewing the fight in his mind. It appeared that this amateur calling himself Blue Cloak clearly had a decent kick behind his size.
*
It was a brisk afternoon, the result of an unexpected cool breeze sweeping Gotham City from the coast, passing through the districts closest to the ocean and bay inlets. East Gotham, lying slightly off most municipal maps of the city proper on its tight little peninsula, was itself no different. It also meant tonight was going to be cooler.
For Brett Clarkson, though, it just meant he'd have to find a warm activity to do.
Particularly if Batman and Robin don't decide to take down Callus and his thugs before they hurt another person like his dad. Or worse, give someone another hard lesson in swimming with a concrete block pulling them under the surface of the ferry piers. The cops, already useless enough in this part of the city, still hadn't found his middle school principal's brother in as many weeks after he'd been led away by Callus' men in front of his wife and daughter.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Brett entered the mixed martial arts studio, not at all surprised to find it empty, possibly save the owner and main teacher who was probably in his office doing some work. That wasn't a surprise for the teen. Most classes didn't start until five pm, but he almost always got here early before four out of habit and a need to practice some moves he was working on. He'd been coming here since he was five and after nine years of learning, the owner and main teacher let him have free reign, sometimes letting him and some of the older students lead a class or two while he was late due to some paperwork or signing up for newbies.
The benefits of a studio like this were its lack of focus on one style of martial arts and instead adapting as many as one could into a particular form that best suited the individual. A rather unorthodox thing to do study let alone teach but it helped a lot of people who likely couldn't do all the moves.
Brett learnt them though, adapting his own style from five different techniques which he couldn't recall their names of when he was ten when he first began doing his own thing. And four years of other priorities meant the names were forgotten in the cloud of other things, but he was sure an outside expert could help him find out what they were. When he had the time, maybe he could ask someone.
But right now, his main priority was causing enough trouble so that Batman and Robin, the protectors of Gotham City, would maybe do their jobs in his part of the city. Sure East Gotham wasn't within the city proper and perhaps the local politicians and cops thought they weren't a part of it, but the citizens did, his mum included since she'd been born and raised in the Burnley district. His paternal grandparents still lived in Gotham Heights with his aunt. Yet Brett wasn't at all surprised since aside from a burglary or two every so often and a store break in to steal the petty cash left on sight, nothing really happened in his part of town that warranted the Dark Knight's visit or even a patrol from one of his partners, not sidekicks, every so often over the years. And since the major crime families and gangs considered East Gotham to be neutral territory, an attitude that seemed to have trickled down to villains such as Joker and Penguin, the place was a dead zone for real criminal activity.
Until that scumbag James P. Callus decided to carve his own niche into it a few weeks back.
And now his dad was going to need physical therapy to walk properly again and his Mum was going to spend every night crying softly in her sleep.
The anger boiled up as the teen dropped his school bag and took off his jumper, folding it and placing it on one of the benches before kicking off his shoes and tearing off his socks to stuff into them. It left him in a t-shirt and trackpants but that was okay, he needed to go through the motions and let the anger flow out of him as he began to plan for tonight's activities if he managed to sneak out again like he'd done the past four without his Mum or Dad noticing.
Brett was about to step to the center of the main floor, breathing in and out when he felt the cool breeze coming through the opening door. Looking around, the teen's eyes widened.
"Hi there," Bruce Wayne spoke. "I here this is a good place for teaching a mixture of different martial arts."
Tim Drake smiled also. "Yeah," he said. "Apparently this studio has a reputation for the unpredictable."
The sight of the Gotham's billionaire son went from surprise to suspicion. While this place occasionally got funding from outreach groups and at one point co-hosted a Wayne Foundation Charity in the East Gotham Central Park a few summers back, with some of the money going to rebuilding the washroom areas that were a few decades out of date. And Bruce Wayne had a reputation that reached even the years of someone like Brett, there was no doubt he had a good heart. But today of all days after encountering the Dark Knight and the Boy Wonder the night before could help but raise alarms in his head.
Swallowing carefully, steel grey eyes stifling any suspicion, Brett stepped forward with a small smile of warm greeting. "The owner could probably tell you more about why he does this style," he replied. "But as one of his early students I can tell you that his teaching is not to be underestimated."
"I see," Bruce said with a smile, extending his hand. "And you are?" he asked.
Brett accepted the grasp and shook it. "Brett Clarkson," he answered. "And you're Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake," the hand released before clasping the other teen to shake. "Not every day we get a visit from the rich and ultra-rich."
The older man's blue eyes gleamed. "Well, Tim here was thinking about some martial arts classes, and I wanted to see a bit of style change," he looked at Brett. "Perhaps you could give me some moves. Seeing as you're the owner's top student."
Brett cackled. "Hardly his top student," he replied. "Those ones go on to compete in most of the competitions statewide," he then gave a shrug, grey eyes observing their reaction. "I do this because I want it for me."
"Temper issues?" Tim asked.
The teen shook his head. "I just do it," Brett answered. "You never know when it comes in handy. Particularly with everything going on right now."
"Yes," Bruce noted. "I heard about that. And about one of Batman's sidekicks apparently going rogue to do something about it."
"Partners," Brett said automatically, recalling similar arguments with others. "Batman sees them as equal, especially Robin the Boy Wonder," he looked at Tim, who was the same age as both Brett and the current Robin. "Sidekicks is such a derogative term for anyone associated with the big heroes."
Tim chuckled. "You sound like a fan of Robin," he replied. "Me too."
"Yeah," Brett's smile grew. "Particularly the current one."
"Current one?" Bruce asked. "You sure it isn't the same one?"
The teen chuckled. "Only an idiot thinks that the first Robin really aged down after six years of growing taller," he noted. "And the second one had a different style of standing and way of talking to the first one," gray eyes looked to Tim. "Current one is the quiet type."
"Quite the observation," the other teen said. "Very thorough."
Brett shrugged. "It's just something I picked up on," he said. "What with all the media, real and probably not, that has surfaced over the years. Only Batman has really been the same except when he let that monk guy take over after Bane visited Gotham."
"Monk guy?" Bruce asked. "You mean Azrael?"
Brett's eyes turned to Bruce's, noting that clearly this guy put on an act in public that made him oblivious to almost everything around him but knew more than he did. And the way he and Tim Drake were speaking to the teenager, this was to find out things. Maybe the rumour that Bruce and Wayne Enterprises were very close associates of Gotham's protectors meant more than they seemed. "Yeah, that was his name," the teen answered. "Keep forgetting his name. That and a few others."
Except he didn't. Brett could get something out of people too. It's how he managed to get his hands on those old Kevlar plates sewn into his make-shift outfit without anyone really figuring out the truth.
Bruce then coughed somewhat. "Why don't you show me a few moves then, Brett?" he asked. "I might know some moves myself."
That was a challenge. And Brett still had a bit of anger boiling and since Batman wasn't there, perhaps figuring out what he should've known weeks ago and never mind whoever was causing minor chaos or trouble in the city proper when thugs were hurting or killing people here, his apparent minion would do. And taking down a billionaire wouldn't hurt.
A well-placed kick or two later and the bigger man was down, his ward watching from the sidelines in surprise. Rubbing his chest from the slight soreness, all Bruce could do was grin.
"Nice kick," he observed.
Brett smiled smugly. "It's rather good," he replied. "Came up with it myself."
"I should be careful then," Bruce smiled as he stood up. He looked over at his ward. "What do you think, Tim?" he asked the younger.
Blue eyes passed between the man and the other teen before he began speaking. "Maybe we should look into lessons," he answered. "Particularly if Brett here is an instructor."
The pair left shortly after, and Brett felt more than a cool breeze as they made their way to the rather undescriptive car waiting out front. There was a shift, and he had a feeling this was more than just looking at a place to learn mixed martial arts since Bruce was clearly practiced and even managed to counter two of his own styles with ease while Tim watched.
Just like what Robin did last night.
The teen simply smiled. "I think I know what is happening tonight," he observed softly under his breath, smile only going larger. "About time. Sleeping four to five hours a night before going about my day and school is not as easy as it looks."
He'd just managed to catch a yawn before the Owner came out of his office to get himself ready and a few of the other clients entered the studio, the cool breeze following them behind.
*
"And when Callus is taken down, you'll give up being Blue Cloak?" (Batman)
"Batman, the only reason I did this was to get your attention and stop him. I'm not Robin. All I have is my fighting skills and wanting justice for what happened to Dad and others who were unlucky to end up in this craziness. No training." (Blue Cloak)
"Hmm. Since you started this, it's only fair if you finish it." (Batman)
"Are you sure?" (Blue Cloak)
"No, I'm not. But this isn't the life I would have wished on even myself." (Batman)
"Except this Robin, it seems." (Blue Cloak)
"What makes you say that, Blue Cloak?" (Robin)
"I don't know, Robin. Just a vibe you give off." (Blue Cloak)
"Hmm, there is more to you than meets the eye, Blue Cloak. Your Mum was the same way." (Batman)
*
The day following James P. Callus being taken down with the remaining thugs that weren't in a cell by Batman, Robin and the mysterious dark blue clad amateur who caused mischief to bring the former two to the forgotten suburb was a change. The East Gotham police precinct was cleared out of incompetent and lazy officers, the local councillors handed in their resignations and quite a few business owners who sided with the wannabe crime lord suddenly found retirement all too enticing. The people breathed a sigh of relief, including a young middle schooler who took to the night to do what he could for his parents. Finally, he knew he could sleep better at night and a full eight hours.
The night sky was clear and the cool breeze from the nearby coast passed over the top of his apartment building as gray eyes took in the view. Brett sat on the roof, his amateur costume beside him ready to be handed over to the Dark Knight and his teenage partner when they arrived. He'd agreed to never take to the streets at night ever again and he intended to hand it over to the pair.
But they never came.
Instead, as it passed 2am, the cold finally got to him and a wave of tiredness leading him to nod off slightly, the teen decided to sneak back into his bed. But as he came to the window of his bedroom, left open for him to slip in and out, gray eyes saw a note attached to it.
It was from Robin.
Keep it. It said. Batman and I trust you to do the right thing.
Looking down at the outfit he'd made for a few nights, Brett could only smile as he picked the piece of paper off the windowsill and slipped inside without a sound, closing it behind him. After hiding both the note and the outfit in a box filled with random stuff and pushing it under his bed, Brett kicked off his shoes and pulled the covers over himself, a grin spreading over his tired face.
He had no intention of ever taking to the streets again. And with the changes made by day to East Gotham, the former temporary hero of Blue Cloak likely didn't need to be out after dark cleaning up the mess and leaving it to the professionals. Even if he didn't seem to mind the idea of functioning on four to five hours of sleep while picking fights with bad guys.
It seemed oddly satisfying.
*
"Sir, there was a visitor at the gate asking to see you." (Alfred)
"Me? As in Bruce?" (Bruce)
"As in you as Batman, sir. He seemed rather insistent. I believe he knows who is responsible for this attack on Master Dick." (Alfred)
"Who is it, Alfred?" (Bruce)
"It's that boy who you encountered in East Gotham not long ago. The one who called himself Blue Cloak." (Alfred)
"Wait, Brett is here? And he knows who we are?" (Tim)
"Yes, Master Tim. It would seem so. Perhaps, Master Bruce, you were right that there is more to the young man then meets the eye." (Alfred)
"That's true, Alfred. Somehow it seems that Blue Cloak was never going to go away." (Bruce)