A/N: absolutelywingdings on Tumblr requested a story in which Dick falls down a hole and loses communication, resulting in some sort of small fit. I'm not sure I hit the nail on the head with this one, but she seems happy with it! I don't think this is one of my best pieces of writing, to be honest, and I'm not completely content with the ending, but this is me dipping my toes back into the writing world so keep that in mind :)

Downtime

"Everything's good here," Robin spoke, waiting for Batman's voice to come back through the device in his ear.

"Meet me at the car."

Quick. Simple. Done. Robin dropped his hands to his belt to locate the grapple gun. This place was old and full of mold, creaking under every footfall and ready to fall apart when the weather was right. It was often miserable in Gotham. This place wouldn't last the rest of the year.

He aimed for a hole in the roof where chilly gusts of wind were rushing inside. It didn't look very sturdy but Robin was aware of his small size and light weight, firing anyway. The claw latched onto the splintered wood and Robin gave a small tug to make sure the line was secure.

Mistake.

The roof whined and shifted, and Robin saw the supports slip and fall, rushing towards his face. Robin jumped back and threw his hands over his head, felt the rubble crash on the floor just next to him, and for some reason he felt himself falling shortly after that.

The floor beneath him must have been as shoddy as the ceiling overhead had been, since it had given out under the weight of the falling rubble. It dropped him to a basement level, much further down than it should have been, and he hit the ground hard.

Rolling onto his back, he groaned at the sight above him because there was hardly anything to see at all. Darkness covered him, the hole he just created had just as easily been blocked by the building's own pieces of itself.

Great, he frowned. Crud.

His hand migrated to his ear, his frown deepening when he realized his ear piece was missing, possibly damaged somewhere, cutting off contact with his mentor. Getting to his hands and knees, he dusted off the front of his uniform, throwing the cape behind him as it had gotten rotated during the fall. As he stood he took note of the chill air, the terrible smell and the overpowering sense of solitude. Robin, much like Dick Grayson, thrived off communication and contact with other people. He was social by nature, but here he had no one to chat with.

"Unnghh," he groaned miserably, taking a few steps in reverse until his back hit a chilled wall. He rolled his head back, blinking several times as his eyes adjusted to the dark. It looked like nothing but a storage space, lined with pipes and boxes layered with dust. He released a heavy sigh, foot already bouncing in boredom. "Come on, Batman," he drawled, rubbing at his face. "Don't you have like, Bat-senses or something?"

He paused. Then grinned at the thought.

Guess I should look for a way out, he opted, letting out an exasperated noise when he realized he had misplaced his grapple as well. Must have gotten lost in the cave-in. Okay. What else did I lose?

Irritably, he patted his waist, thankful that he at least still had his utility belt. Batman wouldn't mind replacing the ear piece. The grapple gun might be a bit more of an annoyance, though.

"UGHH!" he lamented loudly, throwing his hands into the air dramatically and letting his face drop. How could something so simple have such aggravating consequences? He shuffled around, looking for the grapple, not wanting to have to laugh and joke at Batman about how silly it would be if he lost something so important, ha ha ha! "So not feeling the aster," he muttered under his breath.

Soon his search turned into the shoving of boxes, the kicking of useless crap that cluttered the floor (making it hard to find what he was looking for) and after about a fifteen minute search, he was close to cupping his mouth and calling out to the stupid thing. Calm down, he told himself . You haven't been down here long at all. Don't start acting like a crazy person. The grapple is probably on the floor above or something. I already rifled through all the debris down here…

Logic was comforting. It always had been. When he fell under the spell of stress – which wasn't very often, admittedly – Bruce would pull him to the computer in the cave and run through some cases with him, asking him questions and talking him through. It gave his mind something productive to focus on and honed his skills of observation.

Batman should be arriving soon, he figured. When he didn't meet up at the car as ordered, the Bat would likely come looking for him here, and then he could dig him out and they could go home and he could explain how he lost some of his gear, smiling like a choir boy because even Batman seemed to soften when he did that.

He found himself smiling then. Practicing without realizing it.

"…Unngh!" he whined a third time and he let himself collapse to the ground, wincing when he sat on something with a sharp edge. He groped for it, hoping against hope that it was his grapple, and groaned again with it was nothing more than a bulb-less desk lamp. He chucked it to the side, glancing up at the ceiling once more. He sat there for several long minutes, ears straining to hear the whoosh of a cape, the deep rumble of his name. Something.

And after about another fifteen, or at least what he thought was about fifteen, there was a thump overhead. Robin scrambled to his feet, holding his breath. He didn't want to give away his location if it was someone other than Batman. For all he knew, the creeps he had just taken care of had back-up. So he waited. And then…

"Robin."

Deep. Strong. Familiar. A voice that belonged to the shadows and allowed Robin to feel safe in the dark.

"Down here," he beamed, eager to get out. Being down there was making him stir-crazy. There was the sound of footsteps. Robin could envision him observing the pile-up and coming to the proper conclusion before he started digging through the debris. Light started to filter through the cracks. Robin saw two pointed ears flash under the dim, flickering lights, like a statue blinking in the moment of a lightning strike, and Robin half expected it to start raining inside. Strange, that a figure that struck fear into the hearts of others made his feel overjoyed. Batman exposed a hole big enough for Robin to fit through and lowered a line.

"Grab on," he commanded.

Robin took firm hold and gave a slight tug to signify his readiness. With surprising speed, Batman hauled him up and through the hole, looking solidly down at his protégé.

"Thanks," Robin breathed, happy to be free again. He swirled a finger by his ear. "Communicator got lost in the fall. Sorry."

Batman nodded, seeming to understand. Then he put a hand to Robin's back and guided him towards the window he must have come in through. As Batman started to fit through the frame, he inquired, "How did you end up trapped in the basement?"

Batman. Needing to know everything. Thriving off of details.

Robin thought back, seeing himself shoot a grapple to the obviously unstable rooftop for a quick exit. Seeing it all tumble down on top of him. Remembering the darn thing was missing.

"Heh," he forced a laugh, giving his award-winning smile but Batman wasn't looking, already through the window and making room for Robin to do the same. The boy was still trying to chuckle when he squeezed through. "It's a funny thing, really."