"What's that? Oh, yes I'm alright." Batman answered, his mind obviously deep in thought. From within the Batcave, cool air caressed his partially exposed face. He hardly ever noticed the cave's cooler temperature, having gotten used to it long ago. So why was it that tonight he felt the chill, he wondered.

"There was an accident… down on Prairie Pike. A kid, well… man actually… he… didn't make it." Batman pulled the cowl away from his face. Dark circles protruded from underneath blue eyes, eyes filled with sorrow.

"He… he couldn't have been much older than Dick…" His voice sounding as tired as his body felt, Batman still insisted on pacing back and forth in front of his long time friend.

"I got there just as it happened. I… I saw it, stupid… so senseless. A car ran a red light, then smashed right into a motorcycle. The poor kid on that bike, he never stood a chance…." Batman made his way over to the Captain's chair that sat, ever ready in front of the huge Cray computers. Sinking into the leather chair always brought him comfort, however tonight he found no such solace.

"I called for med flight immediately of course. By the time I reached the boy.. er.. man, it was too late. He died in my arms. I couldn't save him." A gentle hand came to rest on Batman's shoulders, offering comfort. The gesture much appreciated, Batman tried to get a hold of his raging emotions.

"He was wearing his helmet but his face, it was completely crushed on the left side. I just held him. I couldn't seem to let him go, he looked so much like…." His voice breaking from the trauma of what he had seen, Batman placed his weary head into shaking hands.

"I finally managed to make myself check the other vehicle. I wish I hadn't… I don't know how to handle what I saw there. Oh God, please help me make sense of what I saw there!" He cried, his plea echoing throughout the cavern walls.

"The man in the car, he wasn't hurt, he was… DRUNK! He was angry with the motorcyclist for hurting his car. I told him the boy was dead, DEAD!!! It made no difference to him. He made a smart comment that if the kid had been more careful it wouldn't have happened! He was actually BLAMING that poor dead young man. I lost it. I mean I've come close a few times through the years but tonight, tonight I actually lost it. It was all Nightwing could do to pull me off of him." Batman's voice trailed off lost in the memory.

"I don't know when Nightwing got there, I just remember I started hitting that drunk bastard who killed a boy with no remorse. I just kept hitting him. Every blow he received empowered me. I honestly think… no, I know... I would have killed that man tonight if Nightwing hadn't pulled me off of him. Had it been anyone but Nightwing, I don't think I would have stopped." His admission over, the cave became silent once again. So deeply lost in his troubled thoughts was he, that he did not notice the absence of the comforting hand from his shoulder. Minutes turned into hours; still he sat lost in his pain. He had no clue how much time had been lost to him, how much time it took before his companion was once again before him. A hand offered to him, Batman stared at his friend quizzically.

"What is it?" Sensing no answers to be forthcoming, Batman took the offered hand. Following, as he was lead deeper into the cave, Batman stopped in an interior room, which had long ago been made into a workshop. Before him, Batman saw the reason he was summoned there.

"A helmet? There's something special about this one isn't there?" Batman picked up the helmet bearing Nightwing's insignia and inspected it closely. The standard helmet had been modified with extra padding on the sides to protect the facial bones of the skull. A lump formed in his throat, as Batman stood, for a time speechless. How much he appreciated his friend's hard work and thoughtfulness was evident deep within his reflective eyes.

"Harold, I… I don't know how to thank you." Batman stammered. He was relieved to see Harold's smile. Confident that Harold knew how much it meant to him, Batman decided to ask for a favor.

"Harold, do you think…I mean, would you mind making one of these for?" Before the request could be asked, it was answered, as Harold held out a second helmet, this one bearing the insignia of Robin.

"What would I do without you dear friend?" Batman asked amazed yet again at how resourceful his comrade was. Holding the helmets and turning to leave, Batman was stopped when Harold patted his shoulder.

"Yes, Harold?" Batman asked, then smiled as he saw what his assistant was offering him. A shiny black helmet, complete with Bat ears had been modified to meet the new safety standards that Harold was implementing. Touched that his friend was worried about his safety as well, Batman reached out, took the helmet and tried it on.

"Perfect fit, good job Harold." Uncomfortable showing his emotions, Batman opted for a change of subject.

"Come on, lets go see if there's anything to eat around here. If Alfred doesn't come back home soon, one of us is going to have to learn to cook." Batman quipped. Watching Harold's sign language carefully, he suddenly burst into uncharacteristic laughter.

"Yes Harold, I think it should be too. Hey, it's not my fault the fire alarm goes off every time I cook!" As the two made their way up to the kitchen, Batman's returned smile was all the reward Harold needed for all his hard work.