âBatman, have you noticed the rats?â Robinâs high voice, still on the edge of breaking, echoes over the comms.Â
âHn,â Batman grunts, which is code for Robin to continue. Bruce is perched on the edge of a building, looking through binoculars at a window across the street.Â
He is tracking a shipment of stolen weaponry, rumored to be on its way to Metropolis and then Lex Luthor. As a rule, Bruce tries to keep Gotham shit in Gotham.Â
Itâs a hell of a place to live, but he canât give it up. The city sank into his bones, chaining him as surely as his parentsâ death. As does the alley, haunting him in stereo. First, the gunshot, the scattered pearls. Then the tire thief, the son he lost to the Joker.Â
To give up on the city now would be to spit in the face of everything he lost. Bruce would be forced to admit he should have left a long, long time ago. That healing might have been better than a bat suit and a glowing symbol.Â
But all little boys want to be heroes, and Bruce is no exception. He made his dreams a reality. He fought back against the city that took his family. He made a new one out of the broken remains of other families. He chose this path.Â
Across the street, the thugs argue and gesture.Â
âWhat about them, Robin?â Damian always has such a soft spot for animals. Although why rats had to be on the listâŠfilthy creatures. Much like Gotham. The thought tugs the corner of his mouth.Â
âThey are acting strangely. One did not run away when I approached.â
âDisease. Donât touch them.â
Silence. Then, âCan we vaccinate the rats?â
Batman drops the binoculars and pinches his nose, even though itâs covered with a cowl. âNo, Robin, we cannot vaccinate all of Gothamâs rat population.â
âWe could aerosolize it!â Damian is not listening. âLike how Scarecrow spreads his gas. But this wouldnât be harmful. If I can get one of the rats, I can testââ
âNo, Robin. The current menagerie is bad enough. If you bring home a rat, or hide a rat, or get someone else to give you a rat, or any other variation you are clever enough to think of, you are benched.â
Silence. It glowers across the building even though Batman is looking at the meeting again. Much longer and it will grow teeth.Â
âAffirmative, Batman. I am going to patrol the premises again.â
Damian is mad. He doesnât stomp away; heâs too well trained, but thereâs riled emotion in every excess movement.Â
Bruce does not budge. The kid has too many pets already. Between those, the rehabilitation rescues, and whatever else heâs managed to sneak pastâwell, Wayne Manor may need to open a private zoo.Â
One without sickly rats.Â
Gods. What if it bit someone?
