Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the Line of Duty

There was a bullet.

It came out of nowhere, but that was just how bullets were. Unexpected. Robin hadn't expected to get shot – not that day at least. He'd never put much time aside to think about it. What was the point? Whether the bad guy was holding a gun or a machete, Robin would fight. He was more at risk than the others, but he didn't give much thought to that either.

There was a bullet, and the bullet came out of nowhere, and it ripped cleanly through him.

He'd never been shot before. None of them had ever been shot before. It was the first time.

"Robin! Shit – oh shit," Cyborg was saying.

Robin said nothing, staring wide-eyed at the blood spreading in a damp circle through his suit. Someone was screaming. He could sense the others around him. Raven had jerked the gun from the hands of the bad guy and left him unconscious before he could blink. Robin guessed that she was behind the counter already: cool and collected as ever. Beast Boy and Starfire were shifting in close around him along with Cyborg. They were all terrified. It left them hanging for a painful instant, frozen and staring. A door slammed somewhere close by.

"Beast Boy, Star – get after him, don't let him get away," Robin ordered, distantly startled by the slight slur of his own voice.

"But –" Starfire began weakly. Robin silenced her with a look.

"Go on, get going," Cyborg prompted sharply. Some normality returned as he backed his leader and, following his example, the others obediently fell into place. With a grave nod and a final bewildered glance at Robin, Starfire gestured for Beast Boy and they were gone.

Robin thought he heard the clatter of retreating hooves and then suddenly found himself staggering slowly back into a wall. Everything was numbing sickeningly, a contained sensation building in his side. Still the pain wouldn't come. Not for a while yet.

"– call an ambulance for Christsakes."

"No. No – Cyborg..." Robin said dazedly. He had one hand holding the wall and the other pressed as hard as he could to the wound. Somehow he felt or imagined the bullet, maybe he was trying to convince himself that it was real – hard metal, wickedly hot, but cooling to match the temperature of his body like some invader wanting to blend in. Hard metal. Hard metal lodged deep at the centre his torn skin and tissue and muscle and bone...

Don't get shot.

"Don't talk. Raven," Cyborg barked. His voice was unsteady and Robin's awareness came sharply back into focus, long enough to feel the first grip of panic over his chest. He was breathing so hard.

"Listen to me." Robin opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – and saw Cyborg's face in front of him. "D-don't...not an ambulance. Doctor Hill...take me to Doctor Hill…"

"Him? Are you nuts?" Cyborg cried.

"Do it," Robin said roughly, then stumbled as his legs threatened to give out beneath him. "And keep – pressure on the – on the – "

"Alright. It's going to be alright," Cyborg said. Robin fought to swallow, felt blood creeping up his throat. He was distantly aware of metal beneath his hand, of strong fingers clasping his shoulders – the only things keeping him upright. He couldn't tell if his eyes were still open.

Don't get shot. 

"...Yes, I have him here right now...no...no, that's really not advisable, Sir...yes I know what I'm doing...yes...alright, goodbye."

Dick at first thought that he was dreaming the unfamiliar voice, but as his mind gradually cleared he became acutely aware that he was awake – and that the voice was very much real. His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up. It was a bad move.

"Ah! Ah..."

"Try to keep still," the voice instructed sharply and, glancing up, Dick was at last able to connect it with a face.

"Hill."

"Call me Frank. And you...are Richard. Richard Grayson," the doctor responded, applying gentle pressure to Dick's shoulder, which none the less forced him down onto his back again. Dick stared up at the man, struggling to ease the terror his own name inspired.

"You know me?"

"I hope it's not a problem – I took a sample of your blood, sent it away to the lab for analysis. It was vital for me to at least know your blood type..." Hill said rapidly, but trailed off when he saw that his words only made the boy's skin turn a sickly grey. Dick felt like vomiting.

"You – you..."

"Easy there, easy. Nothing to worry about now, Richard," Hill said soothingly.

"No..." Dick struggled feebly against the hands that pinned him by the shoulders. It was pointless. He felt like he'd just hit the cement after nose-diving from one of Gotham's twin towers.

"It's alright," Hill insisted, his brow furrowing with dismay. "If it's your name that's troubling you, I'm not about to tell anyone who Robin is. Remember the agreement. I'm the only one who will know."

Dick shook his head weakly, but there was nothing he could do. He wasn't exactly in any position to argue. He dropped his hands to his sides, gasping when he felt a sharp pain in his left one. Hill must have had him hooked up to something. He stared blearily up at the doctor again. Nothing was familiar.

"Where am I?"

"In my home," Hill replied shortly, evidently relieved that his patient had calmed down. He was a man of thirty-something with thin brown hair, a small, triangular face, and hazel eyes that were shrewd but not unkind as they studied Dick from behind elegant wire-rimmed glasses.

"How–?" Dick began, but the doctor was already speaking.

"You were shot." Hill nodded pointedly downwards. He was careful to maintain a firm hold over Dick lest this revelation provoked any more sudden movements.

"What do you remember?" Hill said.

Dick frowned, turned his head away. Memories – Robin's memories, flickered through his mind. Insignificant things for the most part – tiny useless details that he'd been conditioned to absorb: the spicy, sandy smell of the bank's carpets, the bright silk scarf worn by the hysterical cashier, red like her painted nails, the five other cashiers who stood by with their hands raised and their expressions helpless, the two large front windows, their grey blinds still drawn, the twelve circular light fittings overhead, two of which held no bulbs, one of which contained a large dead moth, and none of which had yet been illuminated (it was bright outside) – and then the soft, dry crinkle of bank notes being roughly handled.

Of course there was much more, but Dick didn't linger – he couldn't. There were stronger memories pushing their way forward – memories of a masked face jerking up from behind the counter, of a terrible slowness overtaking everything as a shadow lunged into Dick's line of sight, belatedly to be registered as the tall figure of a second man. The details had then begun to blur. Robin had watched a gun appear and point straight at him. Wincing, Dick recalled the stunned paralysis that had flooded his – Robin's – body for that vital second. Stupid – stupid! Then there had been a jerk of movement at the trigger of the weapon – another detail tiny and useless when compared with the ones that followed. The brutal impact of the bullet...

"Bank robbery. Man shot me," Dick answered finally. He looked sharply at the doctor. "Where are the Titans?"

"They're not here. I sent them off – with some difficulty I might add." Hill smiled faintly. "Now you need to rest. God only knows how you made it all the way up here. You've lost a dangerous amount of blood. Fortunately the bullet made a clean pass through your side. No excess damage to the muscle and no broken bone either. You were lucky, Richard."

Dick did not respond. A sudden weakness was overtaking him and he dropped his head back. Pain burned in his side acutely, seeming to worsen by the second.

"I'm going to give you more painkillers," Hill was saying, moving beyond the hazy rim of Dick's vision. The boy lay very still, fighting to block out the agony rising in him. He tried to concentrate on something else – anything else. The surface beneath his back, yielding and soft, the comfortingly heavy weight of fabric resting over his legs, the raspy dryness of his throat – when had he last had a drink? That morning. Was it still the same day? God, how long ago was it? No, don't think about that. He told himself to think about that morning. Juice – it had been juice. What kind of juice? Apple? It had been apple – nothing else in the fridge –

"There now, don't move..." Hill's voice instructed, but Dick could no longer judge how near or far the doctor was. He felt a sting somewhere, its origin lost and forgotten almost immediately as a pulse of relief washed through him. His muscles relaxed and he lay back into the softness of the mattress. Only vaguely did something continue to nag at him. Something felt wrong and out of place, something subtle while all too noticeable. Finally, too exhausted to keep thinking, Dick gave up and was unconscious before Hill had removed the needle.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better."

"Good. You've been more comfortable without the drip I think."

"Yeah." Dick shifted awkwardly on his pillows, evidently struggling for the right words. "Look, Frank...thanks. For doing all this."

"What – my job?" Hill smiled.

"That and..." Dick hesitated, studying the man who leant casually against the doorframe still wearing his pyjamas and slippers. "And about my name."

"Doctors can't give away secret identities," Hill said, managing somehow to sound serious.

"Well." Dick gave a faintly sour smile. "I heard you talking with the Commissioner again. It was him wasn't it? He didn't sound all that happy."

"I may work on behalf of the city, but more specifically, I work for you. If that means treating Robin as well as Richard Grayson, then so be it. That was the agreement. Besides, I don't think Henderson would know what to do with himself if he finally had your name."

"I've got some idea." Dick frowned, disturbed by the thought. "He can never know. No one can." He glanced earnestly at Hill and was relieved to see that the doctor looked equally somber.

"I know. This can't lead back to Gotham." Hill put his head to one side thoughtfully. "I lived there a couple of years ago. You and your partner were really something."

Dick kept his face impassive but something must have shown in his eyes because Hill straightened suddenly and stepped further into the room, moving towards the bedside.

"You know Mr. Wayne's secret is safe with me," he said softly.

Dick's fears eased a bit at the sincerity of his tone.

"I wouldn't be the one to expose either of you," Hill went on. "One thing you don't want is to get on the bad side of a superhero."

"You sound like you speak from experience," Dick said. Hill shrugged and his lips lifted into the shadow of a smile. He had a good smile, Dick decided – it was thin and slightly self-deprecating, but there was warmth there.

"I'll bring you your food, then I think you may have to see some guests again. I won't have much of a front door left at the rate your friends keep hammering on it at all hours," Hill said, heading out the room. Once at the door he paused for an instant and gave Dick a slow, measuring look before seeming to come to a decision.

"I'll be needing the personal and medical details of all the Titans. Will you allow me to talk to them – just get to know all of you? I'm your doctor, but I'd like to be a friend if I could," he said slowly, deliberately. Dick sat tensely, unease rising in his chest.

"The information would be handled with the strictest sensitivity you understand," Hill went on hurriedly. "If something like this were to happen again (which it's likely to), that kind of knowledge could be the difference between life and death. I know it's a big step, but maybe this experience will show you that I'm only here to help you. I don't have any secret agenda."

Dick remained still, considering. Over the past two weeks he'd been continually forced to place his trust in Hill. He'd been at the doctor's mercy the entire time, and yet he hadn't felt overly uneasy – in fact he was becoming reluctantly fond of the man. Of course he was still dubious – although now considerably less so than before the shooting had occurred. Doctor Hill had indeed been appointed by the City Police Department to ensure the safety of Jump City's most legal vigilantes – who were, in all fairness, only children – and through Hill the city was extending a grudging hand of acceptance as well as an underlying request for trust. Dick hadn't been eager to put that tenuous bit of trust to the test, but now having Hill around didn't seem like all that bad an idea. A personal doctor on hand to see to any injuries critical or minor that the Titans may sustain during their work was a gift indeed – particularly as the man appeared honest and trustworthy. Plus he had just saved Dick's life. Experience had taut Dick to exercise some caution, but he found himself wanting to trust the doctor implicitly. It was absolutely all or nothing.

"I know we have to meet Henderson halfway," Dick said at length. "I'll talk to the others, but I'm not going to force them. It might take a while...for them to trust you." Dick paused, then added, "But we could sure use a doctor...and a friend."

Hill said nothing, just nodded. He turned to go once more, but Dick halted him by speaking again.

"Frank? Do you think I could have my mask back?"

Hill nodded. "I'll go get it now."

Chapter Text

"So I'm all like, 'Just put the truck down, Grim!', and then he's all like, 'Fine! I'll put it down!' – so guess what he does!" Beast Boy paused only briefly, too excited to wait, and uncaring if the dramatic impact was lost on his audience. "He throws it! At me and Cy! But then you know what Cy does? Go on Cy – tell him!"

Cyborg rolled his eyes but looked secretly pleased under the open adoration of the younger boy.

"Well, this truck's coming at us and I'm thinking: how the hell am I going to stop this thing? I look back over my shoulder. Road's totally empty. I grab BB. We hit the deck."

"We went right under the gap in the wheels!" Beast Boy crowed, clapping his hands. "Just like in a movie! And the truck passes over us – I wasn't scared – and screeches off down the road before it stops – like, inches short of this building, and –"

"So you caught Grim then?" Robin said, softening his tone and giving Beast Boy a quick grin to soothe the sting of interruption.

"Well...the cops did," Beast Boy said sullenly.

"Oh. They give you any trouble?" Robin's voice hardened a fraction.

"Nah – but they were totally lapping up the credit when it was us doing all the dirty work," Beast Boy grumbled.

"Never mind. You guys did good." Robin nodded encouragingly. "This Grim guy sounds tough."

"He was!" Beast Boy agreed eagerly, and Robin and Cyborg exchanged indulgent smiles. It was just the three of them in the room, Beast Boy curled up at the foot of the bed, frequently leaping up to re-enact some scene or other during his dialogue, Cyborg standing close by looking on in amusement, and Robin, of course, still confined to the bed. But true to his word, Doctor Hill had returned his mask to him, and he'd leant him some comfortable sweats and a shirt. Asides from being a little too large, the shirt at least hid the thick bandaging on the side of his stomach.

"And I s'pose you just get to chill out here while we're out there dodging trucks, right Robin?" Beast Boy said with a mischievous smirk. "Seriously though, this place is like a mansion." The boy jumped up from the bed and landed as a bloodhound on the carpet and began an in-depth sniff-search of everything in the room.

"It is pretty big, from what we saw," Cyborg agreed. "You're being treated good then?" His brown eyes conveyed the depths of his concern better than his words did. Robin cleared his throat.

"It's been alright. Hill really takes care of me. With any luck I'll be back by next week."

"Wo-ho there, don't rush this, Rob." But Cyborg couldn't quite keep the relief from his face. "We want you back, no denying it, but you gotta take it easy."

"How're you managing?" Robin said.

"Pretty good. Been filing up all the cases so nothing's backing up, you don't have to worry about paperwork when you get back. But dude, do you have any idea how long it took me to do Grim's write-up last night? I don't know how you get through so many!"

"I'm sure you're doing fine."

"Well, yeah, y'all know I rise to the occasion when needs be." Cyborg grinned, pleased. "Hey, that reminds me. I've been doing research. Turns out Grim's real name is Edward Crawford – he had a wife and a kid who he left in Toronto."

"Scientist?" Robin guessed.

"You got it. Genetics wiz – really accomplished."

"The cops find out if they can reverse what he did?"

"We'd need to hack into their files to find out. They sure aren't about to tell us anything." Cyborg snorted. "We just get to clean up after them if they let him escape again."

"You're starting to sound bitter," Robin observed with a smirk. "I thought that was my job."

"Yeah, you'll be getting it back soon enough. Bust my ass back down the line the second you're home, right?" Cyborg chuckled.

"Better believe it," Robin replied, his voice a growl of mock-threat. Cyborg chuckled and shook his head. They grinned at one another for a long moment, and then Cyborg's expression grew gradually serious.

"You know...you really had us scared back there."

"I know," Robin said. He stared down at his hands. They'd avoided talking about this for as long as possible.

"No, like scared shitless," Cyborg reiterated. "You can't do that to us again, okay?"

Robin fought the urge to start smiling once more. Cyborg made it sound as though the decision to be shot had been his own.

"Okay. But it happens."

"No it doesn't. Not to you," Cyborg breathed. Robin shook his head slightly.

"Cyborg..."

"It's not going to happen again, alright?" Cyborg said forcefully, shifting a step closer to the side of the bed and fixing his leader and friend with an intense look.

"We all know this job has risks," Robin said, even as he knew the subject ought to be dropped. "It's important that you learn how to handle things if –"

"Don't," Cyborg interrupted sharply.

"It's how it has to be, Cyborg. It's why we have a chain of command."

"We're not some god damn army!"

"No, we're not. We're a team, and that means we can stay standing, even if one of us has fallen. We've learnt from this, you especially. You're an extraordinary person, and I know you'd make an extraordinary leader. I wouldn't leave the Titans in anyone else's hands."

"Christ, man," Cyborg muttered, and passed a hand over the biological side his face, rubbing his eye roughly. When the two youths looked at one another again there was pain, but also understanding and something that ran far deeper.

"Yikes, someone die while I was away?" Beast Boy's voice shattered the atmosphere completely, and in another moment it was as if it had never been.

"No, but now that you're here..." Cyborg grabbed the younger boy by the shoulder and made threatening movements towards getting him in a headlock. Beast Boy easily resolved this by flickering into a mouse and diving onto the bed to hide beneath the covers.

"Yeah, you'd better run!" Cyborg laughed.

"Ah, nice to see the two of you are creating a tranquil environment for my patient." Hill had appeared at the door, now comfortably dressed in slacks and navy cashmere and smiling wryly at the antics of the youths.

"Oh – uh, we were..." Cyborg floundered for a long moment.

"Training!" Beast Boy finally supplied, now restored to human form, though still half-hidden under a quilt.

"Yeah! We've got to keep Rob up with the training you know," Cyborg agreed swiftly.

"Even with a bullet wound?" Hill said incredulously, stepping into the room and heading over to the windows to draw back the curtains and let some light in. The room was spacious without being huge, and the double bed on which Robin and Beast Boy sat was deep and springy and heaped in soft sheets and pillows. There was a tall set of windows that overlooked the city spread out below in all its vast metal and concrete glory, lit dazzlingly by the afternoon sun. Further on the ocean could be glimpsed as a brief band of blue that then hastily disappeared into the horizon. The house itself was situated, along with various other expensive properties of its kind, among the planes of tough, grainy earth and jutting ledges of sandstone that overhung the boarders of the city.

"Maybe I'm not up to training, but I'm getting better," Robin said a little defensively.

"I'll be the judge of that," Hill said, turning from the window to face them.

"So, are you like...our doctor now?" Beast Boy asked hesitantly.

"Seems that way," Hill said.

"So how come I never knew about you?" Beast Boy persisted. "You could have taken a look at that foot rash I had a while ago!"

"He's for emergencies only, BB," said Cyborg. "And besides, I've told you a thousand times before – you wouldn't have got that rash in the first place if you'd just washed a little more often."

"What!" Beast Boy burst out, scandalised. "I'm the most hygienic person I know!"

"This coming from the guy who spends the better part of his day being an animal. What you need is more like a vet," Cyborg snorted, rolling his eyes at Hill. The doctor couldn't help but smile. Privately he was amazed.

Of course everyone knew that the Titans were adolescent superheroes – it was what had drawn the media's attention from the very beginning, ever since the team's first appearance on the dark streets of Jump City a year ago. But Hill got the distinct impression that very few people actually saw the Titans for what they were: a group of extremely gifted, intelligent and determined kids. Now, Hill didn't use the term in a demeaning way – it was the truth. They were children. Children with amazing gifts, who, by some miracle or other, had chosen to put their powers to use for the good of the city. They were a marvel – fast becoming a legend, and, seemingly indestructible, they were in turn viewed as such. They were too powerful to be human – and they certainly couldn't be children. They were abnormal – freaks, some called them. But they protected the city, and that at least made them tolerable, if not wholly trusted.

Only recently had the city's Commissioner, Ryan Henderson – a sour man who was in all fairness not as big a hard-ass as many people made him out to be – accepted that the Titans were a useful and often vital component in the Police Department's ceaseless fight against evil-doers – and that on more than one occasion, it had been the Titans and the Titans alone who had stood between the city and total destruction at the hands of its growing number of super-villains. It was soon after this revelation that Henderson had withdrawn the vigilante charges initially placed over the Titans' heads and even made a reluctant proposal of partnership.

That was where Francis Hill came in.

A gift of good will from the city to its freakish protectors in the form of a thirty-something doctor. But he was of course more than this: he would act as the go between – supposing of course that the Titans chose to accept Henderson's questionable hand of trust. Until the previous week, Hill had begun to have serious doubts as to whether the Titans would bother to search him out at all. He had been waiting for the Commissioner's call relieving him of his nonexistent duties – but Henderson had proved a stubborn and patient man, and with a sort of morbid inevitability, the Titans had at last arrived on the doctor's doorstep in need of his aid.

Seeing the Titans for the first time, gathered in his front room, a bunch of terrified kids, Hill had known that his previous conceptions of the young superheroes were wrong.

Now, as the doctor stood watching the easy camaraderie between the three youths, he reflected once more that there was a lot about the Titans that people did not know. The doctor was certain that he still had a lot to learn...

"Well, it looks like Beast Boy and Cyborg will give you the information you want," Robin said, drawing Hill back from his musings.

"I'm glad to hear it," Hill said quietly, feeling a warmth swell in his chest. They were taking the first steps.

"What about you, Robin?" Beast Boy asked, curling up comfortably at the foot of the bed in the uncanny manner of a cat preparing for a long nap.

"What about me?"

"Have you...you know, told him?" Beast Boy asked, eyes widening expressively.

"Told him...?"

"Uh..." Beast Boy looked all at once uncomfortable and ducked his head. Robin waited with brows raised inquiringly, but there was nonetheless something knowing in his smile.

"Have I told him who I am?" Robin prompted at length. Beast Boy's unearthly green-tinted skin seemed to darken by a few shades.

"Well, yeah."

"Yes. He knows," Robin said, and glanced at Hill for a moment, subtly seeking and finding reassurance in the doctor's eyes.

"Wow. You must be like...the only person who knows in the whole world. Well, except for Bat–" Beast Boy was interrupted by Cyborg clipping him sharply up the back of the head.

"Yeow! What was that for? Come on – it's true!" Beast Boy whined, covering his head with both hands and scrambling further across the bed and beyond the older boy's reach.

"Alright, I think we should let Robin get some rest now." Hill smiled tactfully, straightening and gesturing towards the door. Beast Boy gave a groan of protest, but obediently slid down from the bed.

"We'll drop by again later! Won't we?" Beast Boy glanced uncertainly at Robin, out of habit, and then at Cyborg who grinned and nodded.

"Sure we will – you don't think we'll just stand by and let Robin have an easy ride? I mean, we're the ones busting our asses out there while he's lounging around in bed all day, right? The least we can do is make him suffer through every insignificant detail of every day until he goes crazy."

"Yeah!" Beast Boy laughed, turning to Robin once more. "So expect to be hearing from us!"

"You know it'll be the only thing keeping me sane," Robin chuckled, patting Beast Boy's shoulder.

"Just don't go relaxing too much," Cyborg said. "You might decide you like it better than running round like a maniac trying to save the world."

"You know me better than that," Robin replied. Hill watched as the two youths raised a hand each and lightly knocked the knuckles of their fists together by way of unspoken goodbye. The doctor then led Beast Boy and Cyborg from the room and into the wide, breezy hallway that lay beyond.

"So c'mon Doc, how long really until we can have him back?" Cyborg asked quietly as they walked. Hill considered this for a moment before responding.

"It's hard to say. Robin's metabolism is...rather alarming. He's healing at an impressive rate, but we don't want to overdo things. Most people who get shot require months of careful recovery."

"Months!" Beast Boy repeated with dismay.

"We'll have to see how it goes," Hill said in an effort to pacify the youngster.

"If you say so, Doc," Beast Boy sighed, and Hill smiled to himself, foolishly pleased by the nickname.

"So have you boys got somewhere you need to be, or have you got time to answer some questions?"

"Sure thing," Cyborg answered for both of them. They had come to a white-marble landing with a waist-high rail of glass rimming the edge. The landing looked down over a portion of the building's ground flour that was presently awash with light pouring in through the house's far wall – also made of an inch-thick sheet of glass. Somehow the giant window was able to allow light into the building without turning the place into a greenhouse.

The doctor led the two youths down to the ground floor by a wide marble staircase built onto the landing.

"This place really is a palace," Cyborg said with an appreciative whistle. "You must rake it in, Doc."

"I manage," Hill said dryly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "I suppose we should do this in the study...it's just back here." Hill guided them around behind the stairs to where a door stood somewhat concealed on the back wall.

"Can I get either of you anything from the kitchen?" Hill asked as he pushed the door open and waved them in.

"Got any root beer?" Beast Boy asked, already shuffling towards the hidden room's doorway with an expression of curiosity.

"I'll find something. Cyborg?"

"Uh, yeah, the same if you've got it."

"Make yourselves at home," Hill said, and left the boys standing at the threshold of his study while he went to fix the drinks. When he returned, a tray in his hands bearing the promised root beers along with a habitual afternoon cup of coffee for himself, he was amused to find Beast Boy back in bloodhound form and snuffling around his bookshelves, while Cyborg was scrutinising his framed certificates on the adjacent wall. He started around guiltily when he heard Hill come in through the door.

"They're all real, I assure you." Hill smiled, depositing the tray onto his desk. "Oh, except for the Einstein photo over there...autograph's a forgery. A friend of mine has a weird sense of humour."

"I can believe that," Cyborg chuckled, but had the good grace to redden a little.

"Some interesting smelling books you got here," Beast Boy said approvingly, restored to human form and eyeing the root beers longingly.

"Take a seat," Hill said, gesturing to the chairs scattered around the room. Once the boys were seated and sipping their drinks, he settled himself into his own chair behind his over-sized mahogany desk and took a hasty swallow of coffee whilst tugging open one of the desk's drawers in search of his notebook.

"Okay then," He sighed contentedly as he drew the leather bound item forth and spread it open before him. "So, do you have any objections to doing this together, or would you prefer me to speak to you separately?"

Cyborg and Beast Boy glanced at one another and shrugged.

"No big secrets here, Doc," Cyborg said. "We pretty much know everything about each other already."

"Really?" Hill said with interest, a ballpoint pen appearing in his hand as he bent over the first fresh page of his book.

"You, uh, think that's really worth writing down?" Cyborg said with amusement.

"Oh yes," Hill said, not looking up. "I hope to keep an in-depth record of what I discover."

"Hey, what's to stop someone from running off with that thing and, you know, publishing it or whatever?" Beast Boy demanded.

Hill finished what he had been writing (which had in fact merely been the 'superhero' title of each boy) and swung the notebook around so that his guests could scrutinise it.

"Wow!" Beast Boy exclaimed. "No offence, Doc, but your writing's worse than mine! You can't even read the letters!"

"It's a code, knucklehead," Cyborg snorted.

"Ooh!" Beast Boy nodded sagely before winking at Hill. "Crafty."

"Yes, I rather thought so. It's a cipher, thoroughly unbreakable – utter scribble to anyone except myself. As I have previously assured Robin, it's perfectly safe."

"Here's hoping," Cyborg breathed before taking a swig of root beer.

"Well, let's start with the basics, then I'd like to know a little bit about your histories. Would you mind going first, Cyborg? Could you tell me your given name?" Hill asked.

"Okay," Cyborg said, and leant forward to return his drink to the tray. When he had settled back into his chair, ready to start talking, he looked quite at ease falling into the role of storyteller.

"The name I was born with was Victor Stone."

Hill quickly scribbled the name down in his nonsense script.

"And you date of birth?" He asked.

Cyborg told him.

"That makes you, what? About to hit eighteen?"

"That's right."

"Okay. Would you mind…telling me a bit about your family?"

"Silas and Elinore Stone – my mom and my dad." Cyborg swallowed, his eyes remote now. "They were research scientists. Back in the day, they were considered a couple of the smartest people on the planet. Geniuses. Everyone expected me to follow in their footsteps, you know, go down the science path. But it wasn't for me. Before the accident, I had plans of my own – plans that didn't have much to do with science. I was one of the best athletes at school. Man, I was good. I was really good, because I worked at it. I was aiming high." Cyborg smiled sadly. "My dad wasn't happy about my career aspirations, put it that way. We used to fight about it all the time." The large youth shook his head. Beast Boy was oddly silent, Hill noted. His attention was utterly fixed on the other boy as he spoke.

"February twenty-first, the accident happened," Cyborg went on. "Something went wrong in the lab. My mom got killed. I'd stopped in after school…I was there when it happened. I don't remember. I just remember waking up with a load of metal where half my body had been. Dad told me I almost died, but he'd acted quickly and saved my life. He and mom had been developing this new strand of metal that could interface with biological tissues without causing rejection. Lucky for me. Of course, I didn't see it that way at the time. I was…so mad at him. I couldn't understand why he hadn't just – let me…well. I thought he was a selfish bastard. We had a row, a big one. And as soon as I was fit enough to, I left. Slummed it in Hell's Kitchen for a while. Figured if there was anywhere a freak like me belonged, it was there." Cyborg raised a hand and tapped the metal plating sculpted over the left side of his face. "In the Kitchen, I was about as low as I've ever been. Then I met Raven. She introduced me to Robin, and soon after that the Titans started up. Turned my life around."

"And what about your father?" Hill murmured.

"He passed away just recently. Radiation poisoning."

"I'm so sorry…"

"We worked things out in the end. I was by his side when he went." said Cyborg. Hill studied him compassionately for a moment before readdressing his notes. He had not before considered the possibility that these youngsters may not only be in need of medical attention, but also psychological help as well. Even if it was just having someone there to talk to. Hill got the impression that whilst the Titans were a close-knit group, there were certain topics that had remained firmly out of bounds. These areas certainly appeared to be a source of some friction within the team. Hill would have to study the psychology behind the group's dynamics later – for now he was primarily concerned with compiling the essential facts about each Titan – those pieces of information about a patient that were absolutely vital for a doctor to be aware of.

"Cyborg, the procedure your father performed, sculpting metal to your body, did that have any kind of…adverse affects?"

"Nope. I'm in peak physical health." Cyborg smiled and flipped open the sophisticated-looking pad on his right forearm. Standing, he tilted his arm to give the doctor a good view of the tiny computer screen set into the pad, proudly exhibiting: '100 percent efficiency' in neat red letters.

"I see. Quite incredible," Hill murmured. "I find it hard to believe you're not a universally acknowledged wonder of modern science."

"Aw, go on, Doc," Cyborg chuckled, seating himself once more. "I guess there are some egg heads out there who'd like to have a poke around inside me. It's because of them I try to keep a low profile, you know? There'll always be some crazy government organisation trying to experiment on me...probably one from our government ..."

"I doubt that Commissioner Henderson would allow anyone to cart you off to a laboratory," Hill said.

"That jerk?" Beast Boy piped up at last. "He'd be the guy driving the truck! But I'd stop him."

"Counting on it, BB." Cyborg grinned. "So, any more questions, Doc?"

"Your blood type?"

"It's – "

A shrill beeping interrupted Cyborg mid-sentence, and both he and Beast Boy were on their feet in an instant.

"Looks like we'll have to finish this later, Doc," Cyborg said tersely, flipping open the pad on his arm and rapidly tapping buttons. Beast Boy as well had produced a disk-like device, which seemed to be the source of the beeping.

"BB, why do you have it on that tone? I thought I showed you how to program it to vibrate?"

"It was too weird, okay? I like this one."

"No you don't, you're always saying you hate it – that's why we put it onto vibrate in the first place."

"Just be quiet will ya? I think it's Star!"

"Well? Are you going to answer it?"

"Uh..."

"Press that key."

"Right...hello?"

Hill blinked in surprise as suddenly the voice of a young female filled the room.

"Beast Boy! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah Star, quit shouting."

"Oh, my apologies. Are you still with Robin? How is he?"

"We saw him, yeah." Beast Boy nudged Cyborg with his elbow and winked over dramatically. "He's great. I think he's been missing you!"

"Really?" Starfire's voice rose by a few octaves.

"Aw, BB – gimme that!" Cyborg said, swiping the communication device from the younger boy's hands.

"Hey – Cy!" Beast Boy whined, but Cyborg ignored him, holding the item high out of his reach.

"Yeah, hi, Star?" He grinned evilly at his friend until Beast Boy in turn took matters into his own hands – paws – and transformed into a skunk.

"Ah! Can't talk long – is there an emergency or something?" Cyborg moved away from the skunk that now perched menacingly on the back of the study chair.

"Oh, this is the reason why I contacted you!" Starfire said cheerfully. There was a lengthy pause and Cyborg made an impatient gesture with his hand.

"Okay...you going to tell us what it is?"

"But of course! Raven and I are at Cradle Building."

"Right, the jumper." Cyborg nodded. "What did you find out?"

"Someone fell and died!" Starfire cried in dismay.

"Who were they?"

"I do not know."

"Alright." Cyborg scratched his head, resisting exasperation. "Well what do you know?"

"It happened this morning. The unfortunate person was thrown from a window. The building is very tall – I am rather grateful that the law enforcement officers are not allowing us too close –"

"Thrown out of a window? How can you be sure they didn't jump?" Cyborg asked.

"I...am uncertain, yet Raven is adamant that they were thrown – murdered!" Starfire said, sounding alarmed by her own words.

"Okay, look, I think we'd better regroup. Go home and we'll meet you there." Cyborg paused and glanced back at Hill. "We got some stuff to talk about."

"And the dead person?"

"Not a lot you can do for them now, Star – and I think the cops can handle the clean up," Cyborg said. "See you soon."

"I will see you soon!" Starfire called back and, smiling, Cyborg terminated the connection and held the communicator in front of skunk-Beast Boy's nose.

"I didn't realise you helped the police conduct murder investigations," Hill said.

"We don't," Cyborg said shortly. "The cops do their work, we do ours."

"They're a bunch of jerks too," Beast Boy announced as, human once again, he reclaimed his communicator and secured it to his belt.

"But they'd accept your help surely?" Hill asked.

"No chance!" Cyborg snorted. "Any cases we solve, we do on our own steam – not running around after those jackasses. They hate it when we show an interest in a case they haven't closed, so mostly we try to keep out of their business."

"You're aware of Commissioner Henderson's proposal of a partnership?"

"Partnership? You're kidding yourself, Doc." Cyborg smiled sardonically. "Henderson's happy to have us around when some mutated fruit cake is trying to take over the city, but the second we go to help out with the city's normal everyday crap, Henderson slaps us right back down again. Partnership." Cyborg spat the word like there was a bad taste in his mouth.

Hill considered this for a moment and privately had to agree with Cyborg's analysis. Henderson could be a difficult man.

"Well, we'd better be going. When can we come by again?" Cyborg asked.

"Any time tomorrow – not too early though, for my sake," Hill said.

"We'll be there!" Beast Boy said happily, leaping up.

"Hey BB – Star and Raven'll want to drop by," Cyborg reminded the younger boy.

"So? We can all come!"

"Somebody's gotta watch the streets."

"Cy! Haven't you ever heard of a day off, man?"

Hill showed the boys from his study and through to the front room, then further on to the entrance hall.

"Look, Doc," said Cyborg, lingering in the doorway, "you take care of Robin for us, okay?"

"You don't have anything to worry about, Cyborg," Hill said quietly. "You kids are my top priority."

"Well, good. But don't y'all go too easy on Rob – he can be a real pain in the ass when he wants to be. Stubborn too, so don't let him push you around...but he's actually a really sensitive guy underneath, so don't be too harsh either." Cyborg grinned. "Plus, he is kind of our leader and all. We'd like him back in one piece."

"I'm sure we'll cope with each other. I've been complemented more than once on my impeccable bedside manner."

"Good, good. We'll see you around then," Cyborg said.

"By, Doc, nice meeting you!" called Beast Boy as he and the older youth walked down the drive. Hill watched them until they disappeared from view, then quietly closed the door. He had a feeling that working for the Titans was going to be very different from anything else he'd done in his life.

Chapter Text

Introductions

Dick started awake late in the night and stared around the unfamiliar room, attempting to identify what had awoken him. He was bewildered and unaccountably afraid. Fragments of his dreams shifted unsteadily through his mind. A man – there had been a man with a gun. He had been here – in the room...

Slowly, Dick turned his head. He froze with terror. The man was still there. It hadn't been a dream.

Dick jerked back, crying out at some distant lance of pain the sharp movement caused him. The figure loomed close, and Dick sensed more than saw him at the bedside, barely discernable from the shadows.

An unidentified source of light abruptly illuminated the man's raised hand and glinted coldly along the lethal barrel of a gun. Dick felt a cry of fear escape him as he glimpsed the weapon, and vainly he fought to get away, entangled in the bed sheets.

Again the figure moved nearer, and Dick's flesh crawled. The man and the gun repulsed and terrified him on a deeper level than he could understand. His own helplessness overwhelmed him.

And then the man's face became sudden visible, bathed in bloody light and trapped in a rigid grimace.

"Traitor!" the voice grated "It's your turn to die."

A familiar weight pressed all at once into the palm of Dick's right hand. Without needing to look down he knew it was a gun he held. Not thinking, not hesitating, Dick drew his hand up and levelled the weapon at his enemy's chest. In that instant, the man lunged towards him, and before he could even register a reaction, Dick squeezed the trigger.

The jolt of the shot slammed up his arm, the bang exploded, lethal and cold in his ears. Blood and torn flesh leapt from the man's chest in the wake of the bullet, and slowly the figure broke to his knees.

When Dick looked again, he saw with horror that the man's face was changed, transformed from its mask of death into something far more devastating.

"No! Bruce, no!" Dick screamed, watching helplessly as a man he knew, a man he loved – fell down dead before his eyes.

"Oh God, Bruce! Bruce I'm sorry!" Dick choked. He watched as blood rapidly spread from the corpse, staining the carpet a permanent, inescapable black.

"Bruce – no...no..."

"Richard!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Richard! Wake up! Wake up!"

Dick jerked awake at last, and started as he found himself looking up into the anxious face of Doctor Hill.

"It's alright – you were only dreaming," Hill said, trying to make his voice sound soothing instead of alarmed. Dick's eyes were huge and lit with distress, his face shining with sweat and tears.

"Bruce! I shot Bruce!" Dick cried.

"No – it was a dream, Richard, it never happened," Hill insisted, gently pushing the boy's damp hair back from his forehead. Dick swallowed hard and turned to look at the bedside. There was of course no one there; the carpet a clear and reassuring blue, lit by a slant of gold light spilling in from the hallway.

"Oh God." Dick groaned, weak with relief, dropping his head back onto the pillow. The pause that followed was filled only with the sound of his unsettled breathing.

"Are you okay?" Hill asked after a while.

"I thought – I thought that..." Dick closed his eyes tightly and gave himself over to re-establishing a solid distinction between reality and dream. He had not shot Bruce Wayne. Bruce was alive. He had not shot Bruce Wayne. Bruce was alive. Dick repeated the words silently to himself again and again before he could face opening his eyes once more. When he did he found Hill was still watching him with an expression of deep concern. Dick winced as he felt the first ripples of embarrassment.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise," Hill murmured, and the tension in the doctor's shoulders eased slowly as he sat back. "Do you have these a lot?"

"Only sometimes."

Dick stared at the doctor and the doctor stared back. Oddly, there was no awkwardness, only lengthy moments as each tried to find something to say next.

"I thought you were being murdered in your sleep," Hill said finally with a strained laugh. Dick reddened and began trying to push himself up into a sitting position. He quickly ceased his efforts as movement only awoke flashes of pain across his stomach. Carefully, Dick pulled up the material of the borrowed shirt he was still wearing and pressed a tentative hand to his bandaged side.

"Let me have a look," Hill said with a frown. "You may have torn your stitches."

"I haven't – it's alright." Dick said hurriedly. He pushed the shirt down once more and resumed his struggles to sit up. Seeing the futility in trying to dissuade the boy, Hill clasped his shoulder and helped him, rearranging the pillows at his back so that he could sit more easily.

"Thanks." Dick panted, holding his side and closing his eyes again. Useless adrenaline hummed through his tired body, leaving him over alert and drained, all at the same time.

"I really think I should take a look," Hill said quietly, shaken by how suddenly young and exposed the boy looked, and startled that he had not noticed sooner.

"No, it's fine." Dick said, his eyes snapping open once more. Hill clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Alright. At least let me give you something for the pain," he said, and stood and left the room.

Dick watched him go, then scrubbed his arm across his cheeks, hastening to rub the heel of his hand roughly into his closed eyes. He was more than a little mortified to feel tears still warm and lingering there.

"Here, Richard, take these," Hill said when he had returned. He handed Dick a couple of small white pills along with the untouched glass of water he'd left on the boy's nightstand hours before.

"You're calling me Richard again," Dick observed.

"I thought as your not wearing your mask..," Hill let the sentence trail off as he resumed his seat on the edge of the bed. He studied Dick fleetingly and noted the erased tracks of tears. The boy seemed somehow altered by it, sitting straighter and stiffer in the bed, his eyes black and sharp. Hill forgave himself for forgetting Dick's age. The boy rarely allowed it to show.

"Where's my..." Dick had a hand raised to his face, a small frown forming on his lips.

"It's over there." Hill nodded towards the nightstand. Dick relaxed when he saw the black shape of Robin's mask.

"I must have forgotten to put it back on. I usually wear it. When I sleep," Dike said haltingly. He shook his head slightly and swallowed the pills.

"Well...would you prefer it if I called you Robin still?"

"No. No, Richard's fine."

"Just too formal? I'm actually a Francis myself, so I understand how that works." Hill offered him a smile. The boy returned it faintly. "How about Dick? Or Richie? Or just Rich?"

"Rich sounds good."

"Rich it is then."

They were silent again for a while, and then Hill said:

"So tell me, was Beast Boy right?"

"About what?" Dick asked.

"About only myself and Mr. Wayne knowing who you really are." Hill pretended to ignore the way that Dick tensed minutely at the mention of the millionaire's name.

Dick looked at Hill for a moment, sizing him up, and then abruptly he nodded and he replied:

"Yeah, that's right. But there's also Al..."

Hill waited but, stubbornly, Dick offered no further explanation.

"That's not a lot of people," Hill remarked lightly.

"It's dangerous." Dick said after a moment. "Dangerous if too many people know. Before I left, Bruce made me promise – " Dick broke off and pressed his lips together into a hard line, refusing to look Hill in the eye. The doctor cleared his throat.

"Do you, ah... see him often?"

Dick looked up sharply.

"Bruce?"

Hill nodded.

"No." Dick shook his head. "No, not since...I left."

"You lived with him."

"Only for few years." Dick said, abruptly defensive. Hill studied him thoughtfully.

"You miss him."

"Do we have to talk about this?" Dick shifted back on the pillows, wincing. "What does Bruce have to do with anything?"

"You tell me."

"He doesn't – he's..." The boy's irritable tone faltered slightly. "He's part of a different life."

"Do you dream about him a lot?"

Dick glanced at the doctor pointedly.

"Okay, okay, we don't have to talk about this – "

"Alright then. Good."

"– Even though I'm awake now." Hill grinned. Dick reddened, angry and embarrassed.

"I said I was sorry – "

"And I said don't apologise. Talk to me about it," Hill said. When Dick wouldn't look at him again he sighed. "Okay. I'm not going to push you, but I'll just say – even at the risk of sounding corny – sometimes talking to someone helps a hell of a lot."

"If I need help I'll let you know." Dick said bluntly.

"Make sure that you do," Hill murmured, then acknowledging the need for a change in topic, said: "I managed to speak with Cyborg before he and Beast Boy left, you know."

"For your medical records?"

"Yes. But there is a lot about his past that's quite incredible – and not all of it is medical," Hill said. Dick didn't say anything to this, silently strumming his fingers on the rim of his water glass.

"Do you know much about his personal histories?" Hill prompted.

"He's a member of my Team." Dick said shortly.

"So you discuss the past a lot then."

"If it's relevant." When Hill nodded for Dick to go on, the boy sighed and said: "I don't know...I guess Starfire and Cyborg and Beast Boy talk about stuff that's happened to them."

"But you don't encourage it?"

"I don't share a lot, if that's what you mean." Dick said, then needing to justify himself: "It's unnecessary, not to mention – "

"Dangerous?"

"Exactly. I can't afford to talk to them about – about – I don't know, what it was like to work with Batman, or live with Bruce Wayne. What if it got out? I'd be screwing him over, and for what? The sake of some dumb conversation? I didn't put the Titans together to form a social club – "

"Alright, Rich," Hill said gently. Dick let out the rest of his breath and stared down at the glass he was still holding, at a loss.

"Why?" Dick asked suddenly. "Did they say anything? I'd never try to stop them from talking."

"No, they didn't say anything," Hill said hastily.

"Oh. I mean, sometimes I know we should sit down and talk...some of the things we see...not a lot of it's pretty."

"I can imagine."

"After a while there's only so much you can take I guess," Dick murmured. "They should talk about that if they need to. Could help, like you said."

"But you don't need to talk about anything?" Hill said quietly.

"I just think talking about it – doesn't change it. I don't see any point."

"There's a point if it helps you deal with things," Hill replied. "Have you ever thought that maybe if you tried talking to someone you wouldn't keep having those nightmares?"

Dick sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I appreciate you want to help, but I just can't talk about this. And even if I wanted to, it wouldn't make a difference."

"So you're going to keep the nightmares?"

"If I have to."

"Well, as your doctor I'm a little put out." Hill shook his head, but his tone wasn't severe. Dick shrugged.

"I'd say sorry, but..."

"I'd tell you not to," Hill chuckled. "Well it looks like Raven and Starfire will be dropping by tomorrow. Not literally, I hope. They both fly I believe?"

"That's right." Dick smiled.

"Amazing. I look forward to meeting them – although I hear Raven will be even less forthcoming than you?"

"Probably shouldn't waste your time trying." Dick agreed mildly. "No one knows all that much about Raven – that's just the way she works."

"Superheroes and their mysteries I suppose," Hill murmured. They sat quietly for a few minutes longer and then Hill stood.

"You look tired. You need rest."

Dick only nodded. Hill watched him silently, making no move towards the door.

"If you need – "

"I won't." Dick interrupted. Hill sighed.

"Still, I'm just down the hall, okay?"

"Okay." Dick could feel himself reddening. "But you don't need to worry. Seriously."

"Alright...are the pills working?" Hill asked anxiously.

"Yes." Dick insisted, and now even Hill couldn't ignore his discomfort.

"Alright, alright – I'm going. Sleep well."

Dick watched him leave, listened closely to the shuffle of the doctor's feet and to the faint click of the hall light being slapped off. The room was returned to darkness, though it was not as oppressive as it had been.

Dick made himself sit for a while just staring boldly into the shadows until he was convinced that no fear remained. He then held his side and carefully shifted down the mattress, nudging his pillows into a more suitable arrangement and then dropping his head down. He closed his eyes.

Coaxing sleep back should have been easy. The dream would not return that night, Dick was certain of it, and Hill's drugs were already taking affect, easing the pain in his side to a dull throb and flooding his limbs with a pleasantly disabling warmth. Yes, sleep should have been easy. But Dick knew better.

There, alone in the dark, his thoughts were left to drift invariably back to his home and his family – former home...former family – and as much as he tried not to, he could not help but wince, knowing that somehow, somewhere in a city far away, Bruce Wayne was living his life without him.

Dick awoke the next day to the sensation of soft sunlight sliding across his face. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to find that the morning was already well underway and that Doctor Hill was now up and moving about the house. Dick listened for a moment to what sounded like drawers being slid open and closed accompanied by Hill's tuneless humming. The noises seemed to drift up from some unidentifiable point deep within the house.

Idly, Dick wondered if Hill lived alone. There had so far been no evidence of any other inhabitant of the house, and the numerous afternoons when Hill was to be found pottering about in his pyjamas, unshaven, and with his hair still in rumpled disarray, only served to solidify Dick's conception of him as a bachelor. It was just as well, Dick decided. Had the doctor been a family man, there would surely have been no keeping the unusual nature of his patient a secret, and pretty soon every distant relation and neighbour would have known the name of Richard Grayson. Even as it happened, there was still no way of telling for certain whether or not Hill was keeping to his word.

Dick hurriedly abandoned that train of thought and lay back on his pillows. He was becoming paranoid, he decided. Either that or obsessive. Worrying this much couldn't be healthy. With a shake of his head, Dick yawned and stretched tentatively, stopping the instant the bullet wound protested against the strain, and sliding a hand gingerly along his bandaged side. Dick of course knew a thing or two about injuries. His profession demanded it. But while he had some second hand knowledge of bullet wounds, the actual experience of personally acquiring and remedying one had proved to be a totally different matter.

Training with the Batman, there had been certain ground rules when it came to guns. Among the favourites, right after 'never use one', had been the seemingly obvious:

Don't get shot.

And if that failed (which was a likelihood that in all fairness needed some consideration), it was pretty vital to have a safety net – and Dick's was combat medicine. Bruce had insisted he learn at least the basics, and after an initial period of protest, Dick had taken to it, and eventually even worked up an interest in what he was learning. The knowledge had certainly come in handy on more than one occasion.

Part of the battle lies in the healing. That was one of Alfred's golden rules.

"Good morning. Sleep okay?"

Dick looked up to see Hill stood in the bedroom doorway.

"Yes, thank you," he replied.

"I was about to make breakfast – feel up to eggs and bacon?"

"Sure, but um..." Dick propped himself up on his elbows and glanced uneasily at the doctor.

"What?" Hill asked, instantly concerned but composed at the same time, ready to deal with whatever problem had arisen.

"It's just...I need to..." Dick flushed at his own awkwardness.

"Oh! Of course, right." Hill smiled reassuringly and moved to the bedside to help Dick up.

"How long until I can walk on my own?" Dick asked, trying not to grumble as he threw off the bed sheets and manoeuvred himself around on the mattress until he could drop his legs over the side.

"As long as it takes. I have to say though, you're doing exceptionally well," Hill said. He gripped Dick beneath his upper arms and helped him slowly to his feet, careful to keep the boy's torso as straight as possible. They stood still for a moment until Dick had shaken off the usual momentary spell of light-headedness that standing now brought, and then the two of them set off.

Down the wide corridor outside Dick's room, a door opened onto a largish bathroom with cool white tiles and butter-coloured mats on the floor. There was a big bath, a shower, and a sink.

Leaning hard on the toilet head as he relieved himself, Dick eyed the nearby shower longingly.

"So can I shower today?" he called hopefully to Hill who was standing politely outside in the hallway, close at hand should he need help.

"How's it been since last night?" the doctor asked warily.

"The pills helped. It's tender still...but standing doesn't hurt."

"Hm...I don't know. What if you were to get dizzy and slip...?"

"I feel fine," Dick said confidently, finishing up and flushing the toilet.

"Alright," Hill yielded. "Just don't try any acrobatics." He stepped into the room and pulled out some towels from a set of drawers by the sink.

"And try not to wet the bandage too much – I'll redo it later. There's soap and such in there – I'll leave towels here for you." The doctor put down the toilet seat and set a stack of towels and flannels on top.

"Thanks," said Dick.

The doctor left, closing the door behind him.

Stepping slowly up to the sink, Dick pulled off the shirt he'd slept in, along with his boxers and sweats. The boxers were his, brought over with others of the same in Dick's old backpack by a highly amused Cyborg. The backpack, along with the modest collection of boxers, a couple of shirts, some trainers, socks, and a pair of jeans had been among the only possessions which Dick had brought with him to the city. Hill had made no comment on the boy's lack of possessions, but had supplied him with clothing to sleep in, and Dick was grateful that, for once, the doctor had spared him his questioning. The truth was that Robin had little use for civilian clothes – much as he had little use for Richard Grayson himself.

Glancing fleetingly up at the mirror above the sink, Dick was a little surprised to catch a glimpse of a young man staring back at him – perhaps not yet a man, but fast growing beyond a boy. His face was pale and his eyes were dark. Dick turned quickly away and moved carefully over to the shower, the cold tile beneath his feet making him shiver slightly. The bullet wound ached with each step, but it was bearable. Dick came to the shower's glass door and slid it to one side, stepping in and gripping the old-fashioned brass shower taps set on the wall within for balance.

Dick almost groaned at the feeling of warm water tumbling down his shoulders and back. He tended to shower in the mornings – cold showers – but for now he was willing to indulge a little and run it hot. He tilted his head back into the gentle onslaught, allowing it to rush over his face and using his fingers to rake it through his hair.

The ache in Dick's side increased and, recalling Hill's earlier instructions about the bandaging, he touched the now-sodden material guiltily. Quickly, he got a hold of some soap and started vigorously scrubbing at the stale sweat and grime until his skin felt clean. He paused to peel off a plaster from the back of his right hand where Hill had inserted a drip all those days ago. Dick then stepped under the water once more to rinse off. All that was left then was his hair.

When Dick finally killed the water and slid the misted door back, he was feeling more revived than he had in days. He had just finished towelling off when he heard Hill's knock on the door.

"All alright?" Hill called.

"Fine. Come in," Dick replied as he wrapped a towel gently around his waste, careful to avoid his bandages.

Hill's head poked around the door.

"Well, I've...created something that I hope resembles breakfast. I left some clothes out for you on the bed, but let's get you re-bandaged first."

Dick smiled gratefully and made his way over to the door. Hill watched him calculatingly.

"Not too much trouble walking?" the doctor inquired, offering Dick his arm.

"It's a lot better," Dick agreed.

"Let's not over do things all the same," Hill said, although he looked secretly pleased with his patient's progress.

"Can I get you girls anything?"

"I would please like some juice," Starfire said eagerly.

"Okay, I have apple juice, orange juice, and some mysterious kind of tropical juice. Take your pick."

"I only drink the juice of apples. That is to say, when I am drinking juice, it is only ever apple juice. I have drunken a variety of Earth beverages asides from apple juice of course – such as coffee, and soda, and – " Starfire stopped herself abruptly, the brilliantly orange skin of her cheeks darkening in embarrassment. "And I believe that I am...'waffling'."

"Not at all," Hill chuckled good-naturedly as he pulled the fridge door open. "So apple then?"

"Please," Starfire said, sinking gracefully into the chair at the head of the kitchen table. Hill shook his head in amusement and pulled a carton of apple juice from the fridge.

"Uh, Raven? Anything?" Hill inquired cautiously.

"No," the dark-haired girl replied, glancing at him only briefly before turning away.

"Robin? How about you?"

"Do you have any tea?"

"As a matter of fact, I believe I do," Hill said, opening a cupboard and taking down a pack of tea bags, and a can of coffee for himself.

"The point is," Raven said, resuming her conversation with Robin. "Something wasn't right at Cradle Building yesterday." Her severe tone contrasted almost ridiculously with the cheerful summer sunlight spilling into the kitchen from outside.

Before breakfast, Hill had opened the sliding doors at the far end of the room, and hadn't yet closed them, enjoying the soft tinkle of his patio wind chimes in the mild breeze. He flicked on the kettle and then the filter and took down a mug and a cup from hooks by the sink. Starfire was watching him with interest and beamed when he filled a glass with apple juice and handed it to her. Hill smiled. He had taken an immediate liking to the girl. The kettle boiled and he filled the cup first, prodding a tea bag around until the water was dark and steaming with the subtle scent of the tealeaves.

"Milk? Sugar?" Hill called.

"Nothing for me," Robin said.

"Black tea. Claire would approve," Hill murmured to himself.

"So what did the cops think?" Robin asked, his attention still fixed on Raven. He was leaning on the kitchen counter, listening with a small frown of concentration to all that the girl had to say. Raven, for her part, was standing quite still in front of him, delivering her report with little expression, and far more restraint than Beast Boy had managed the previous day.

"At first they thought suicide," Raven said. "Then they examined the apartment. There was no sign of forced entry, but something was missing – a valuable ornament. That was all – nothing else had been taken. Now they think it's a burglary gone wrong...which may not be too far from the truth."

Hill placed Robin's tea in front of him before retreating to the breakfast table with his coffee. He blew on the steaming mug and listened with interest to the exchange that was taking place, silently wishing he had his notebook.

"Whose is the apartment?" Robin was asking.

"Woman called Silvia Dell," Raven said, then swiftly added: "She's not the victim, though."

"Did you speak to her?"

"Not directly. The detective on the scene was...uncooperative. He didn't like us being there, let alone talking to anyone."

"Unsurprising. So you don't know where Silvia was when this guy dived out of her apartment?"

"She wasn't home," Raven said, then at Robin's raised brows, explained, "We listened in while the police were taking her statement. From what I could gather, she had been at work all day. She was fairly hysterical."

"She did go home after a hard day's work to find some guy flattened on her sidewalk," Robin pointed out, finally noticing his tea and lifting the cup to his lips.

"She also said she's a widow," Raven continued. "She's been living alone in the apartment for two years – no family. Whoever the victim was, Silvia didn't seem to recognise them."

"How high was the apartment?"

"Top floor."

"I'm not surprised the guy was unrecognisable." Robin shook his head. "They'll be using his dental records to identify him."

"A most distressing business!" Starfire interjected passionately, then gulped down a large mouthful of apple juice to revive herself.

"'His'?" Raven repeated, ignoring the interruption. "You're assuming that the victim was male."

"Point," Robin acknowledged. "But you're assuming this guy – or girl – was a murder victim. Could this have been a suicide?"

"No. Not a suicide – and I didn't 'assume' anything. I know this was homicide."

Robin inclined his head, silently encouraging her to go on.

"There was glass all over the sidewalk," Raven said. "I don't have a great deal of experience with suicides, but I expect most people open the window before jumping through it. Also, if this is a suicide, why go to Silvia Dell's apartment to do it? And why steal something?"

"Okay...but supposing our 'victim' was someone this woman was close to – someone she forgot to mention in her statement. No sign of forced entry, right? This was someone who had a key to her apartment. So, they let themselves in, accidentally slip and fall against the window – straight through the glass. No suicide. No murder."

"The glass in those windows is thick. Even if you somehow fell against it, it wouldn't break. You'd have to be thrown. With considerable force."

"Okay...so this wasn't an accident," Robin conceded thoughtfully. He studied Raven's face as though he expected to find a clue there. She waited impassively.

"No forced entry…" Robin said under his breath. "And what was stolen?"

"A valuable ornament. That was all Silvia said."

"So...the cops were right in the end," Robin muttered. "A burglary. Word gets around that Silvia Dell owns an expensive paperweight, her friendly neighbourhood burglar stops by – maybe gets a key cut, maybe just picks the lock – snoops around the apartment, pockets the ornament, and..."

"Jumps through the window," Raven finished flatly.

"Theory needs work," Robin agreed. "Homicide's starting to sound believable."

"You have yet to mention that the ornament was not recovered," Starfire said suddenly. Robin turned to her sharply.

"What?"

"She's right," Raven murmured. "The police didn't find it on the body."

"Perhaps then the deceased man is not to blame," Starfire said hopefully. "Perhaps instead he was...framed! Or killed whilst attempting to guard the ornament from the real thief."

"Not bad Star, but you may be giving this guy more credit than he's worth," Robin said with a smile. The young alien blushed and fiddled with her glass.

"Still, this changes things," Robin said. "If the ornament never turned up, it means someone else took it. We could be looking at a partnership. The way things turned out, they must have had a disagreement halfway through the job. One of them decides he'd rather not have to split the prize money, and throws his buddy through the window, making off with the ornament before the cops arrive."

"So much for honour amongst thieves," Raven remarked dryly. Robin shrugged and drank some more tea.

"The police won't find the ornament," Raven said.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Robin said lightly. "They might be able to track it through the black market – as long as they're quiet about it."

"Robin," Raven said, suddenly intense, or at least more intense than she had been. "I don't think this is a regular robbery."

"Oh?"

"It doesn't...I felt..." Raven seemed to stop herself and swept a quick glance towards Hill and Starfire.

"Raven...do you have a hunch?" Robin's lips threatened to quirk into a grin.

"Excuse me? No, I do not have a..." Raven frowned and for once she wasn't quite meeting Robin's gaze.

"So now we get to it," Robin said, still half-smiling. "You're pretty hung up on this case...why?"

"For one thing, this 'robbery' was different," Raven admitted finally. "Throwing somebody through a window for an ornament? It has to be more than just that. Whatever this ornament is, it's important – and someone went to great lengths to obtain it."

"There is probably more to it than a simple botched robbery," Robin conceded. "But the police are all over this, Raven. You saw first hand just how enthusiastic they'd be to work with us –"

"When have we ever worked with the police? We should follow this by ourselves," Raven interrupted. "I can tell you now they won't find that ornament. Whoever stole it won't be selling it on the black market. It's invaluable."

Robin's eyes narrowed.

"You know something," he murmured. Raven met his gaze levelly. "Is this going to be dangerous?"

"I don't know," the girl said in a low tone. Her eyes flickered in Hill's direction once more. Robin gave a barely discernable nod.

"We can finish this later then."

"Oh good – I do not think it is wise for Robin to concern himself too much with such talk whilst he is still involved in the Crog'nag," Starfire said sensibly.

"Crog...nag?" Hill repeated.

"It is a word my people use. It means: 'the process of healing and revival'," Starfire explained.

"Forgive me, Starfire, but I haven't had a chance to do a great deal of research," Hill said apologetically. "Your people came to Earth two years ago, didn't they? How many was it?"

"I believe it was thirty five individuals originally."

"The arrival of the Tamaranians," Hill said reminiscently. "I remember watching it on the news. I couldn't believe my eyes...now one is sitting in my kitchen. Wonders never cease."

"Your planet and its inhabitants were certainly a wonder to me when I first arrived," Starfire said with a happy sigh. "It is so...different here. There are stories I could tell you that would make you laugh! The misunderstandings between our peoples are really quite amusing now that sufficient time has past."

"I actually have some questions I'd like to ask you if you don't mind," Hill said. He glanced at Robin and then Raven as he added, "If you two still have things to talk about?"

"I would most enjoy answering any questions that you have, Doctor," Starfire said eagerly.

"Thanks, Frank. That sounds good." Robin nodded his appreciation as the doctor moved towards the kitchen door, coffee in hand.

"I have a study just through here if you'd like to follow me, Starfire," Hill said. The young Tamaranian smiled, waved to Robin and Raven, and then left with the doctor.

"Frank?" Raven murmured, turning to face Robin once more. "You're becoming close to him."

"He's soon going to know almost everything about us, Raven," Robin said. "What's the point in keeping him at a distance?"

"Your judgement could be clouded by what's happened to you," Raven said bluntly. "Just because he helped you –"

"He saved my life," Robin interrupted sharply. "I trust him."

Raven's expression remained unaltered, though her eyes travelled slowly across the boy's face before abruptly dropping to his side where he had been shot.

"How..." Raven paused, seemed to falter before beginning again, "How are you feeling?"

Robin felt his cheeks grow warm under her scrutiny, all too aware of the foreign and baggy clothing he still wore.

"I feel better. A lot better."

"I see," Raven said stiffly, looking away. There was a short silence, and then quietly Robin said,

"Thanks for asking, Raven."

The girl nodded once, sharply.

"So this Cradle Building thing," Robin said, clearing his throat. "What's the big secret?"

Raven glanced at him again and Robin thought he glimpsed something in her eyes, but then, as always, it was gone too soon.

"I sensed something," the girl stated. "Before we got the call about Cradle Building, I sensed it. I couldn't understand what I was sensing – it felt strange, then it just stopped. I thought maybe my powers...but then when Starfire and I went to that apartment, I felt it again. It wasn't as strong as it had been – it was..." She searched for the right word. "Fading. Almost like...residual energy."

"Sounds weird."

"Something happened there, Robin," Raven said. "Something asides from a burglary."

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that whatever Silvia believed to be true, or whatever she chose to say about her 'ornament' was a lie. I'm thinking the object that was stolen from her apartment was capable of releasing an enormous burst of magical energy, and that in the wrong hands, there's no telling what it could do. The fact that it was stolen doesn't exactly fill me with optimism."

"Okay," Robin breathed, rubbing his chin. "Was there a trail?"

"Of energy?"

Robin nodded.

"No. The energy that I sensed at the apartment was already in the stages of rapid decomposition. It felt...almost old. I can't describe it. The burst had been strong, strong enough for me to sense it miles away, but it was localised, and the instant it stopped giving off energy, I was shut out. All that remained were the ripples. Wherever it went, the source left no trail."

"Then the only way for you to pinpoint the location of this object would be if it was – activated again?" Robin guessed.

"Perhaps. Then again, if I knew more about the object, I might be able to find a plane where I could sense it."

"Sort of like if you were on the right frequency you'd be able to pick up a radio signal?"

"Essentially, yes."

"In that case, we need to pay another visit to Silvia Dell," Robin said with resolve.

"You agree that we should look into this then?" Raven said. Robin searched her tone for satisfaction or smugness, but found neither.

"Yes. Your instincts have never been wrong in the past," he said truthfully. Raven's dark eyes seemed to warm for an instant, and then she turned away and walked towards the table.

"I'll go back to Cradle Building," she said.

"Good. I'll – " Robin stopped himself and scowled. Raven glanced back at him over her shoulder, well aware of what he'd been about to propose.

"No. You'll stay here and finish the... Crog'nag," she said. Robin snorted in amusement, not buying the girl's deadpan expression for a moment.

"That, Raven, was a joke."

"I was merely suggesting you take Starfire's advice into account," Raven said tonelessly.

"Alright. I'll do that. But I think I'll also carry out my own research into Silvia Dell," Robin said. "Chances are she might not be very forthcoming."

"I'm fairly persuasive," Raven reminded him.

"That's right. Now that I think about it, maybe you should take Starfire along." Robin grinned. "You could scare the woman."

"Goodbye, Robin," Raven said with a slight shake of her head, and she left.

Robin's fingers moved fluidly over the keys of the laptop, filling Hill's study with a muted clatter that made the doctor think of rain. The two of them had been working in companionable silence for little over an hour after Starfire's departure. Hill was seated behind his desk, scribbling contentedly in his notebook, whilst Robin had made himself immediately comfortable on the floor, and now sat with his back against the wall, engrossed in the computer resting on his crossed legs. Hill stole a glance at the youth and smiled at the intense expression on his face, the ghostly light of the laptop screen awash across his pointed features.

"So? Any luck?" the doctor asked. Robin blinked and looked up in surprise.

"Sorry?"

"Have you found what you were looking for?"

"Oh. Well...I've found something," Robin said, stretching his arms out in front of him and splaying his cramped fingers. He glanced at Hill again, a slight look of hesitation about him, and then seeming to come to a decision, he pushed himself slowly to his feet and carefully carried the laptop over to the doctor's desk.

"You remember Silvia Dell?"

"The woman who had her paperweight stolen?"

"That's right. Her husband was Professor Jacob Mathers – an archaeologist, renowned in his field. He was doing excavation work on a dig in Cairo when he died suddenly of a heart attack. I found it all in this newspaper extract from a few years ago." Robin shifted the laptop closer to Hill. The doctor leant forward and studied the article displayed on the glowing screen. A grainy photograph of a middle-aged man dominated the right-hand side of the page. He was standing in front of a wall covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs. In one hand he proudly held a stone Anubis jackal head – in the other, what appeared to be a large pebble.

"Interesting," Hill said, leaning back in his chair. "Is this what you were looking for?"

"It could be," Robin said, staring at the computer screen intently. "Silvia's husband could have brought the ornament back from one of his digs. If we can just find out where it came from, it might give us a clue as to why it was stolen – and what kind of damage it can do."

"Damage? Is this ornament dangerous?" Hill said with surprise.

"Raven thinks so, and I'd rather not take any chances. One murder is bad enough," Robin replied grimly.

"So are all of you working on this?" Hill asked.

"No. Usually we can't afford to focus all our attention on one case. Raven's following this up. I think Star might be helping her, but Beast Boy and Cyborg will be working the streets. We have to maintain a constant presence there at night. That's when things get ugly."

"How much time do you spend on each case?" Hill asked, leafing forward a few pages in his notebook and beginning to write. He paused and glanced uncertainly up at Robin. "Do you mind if I...?"

"I guess not. But why do you want to write about this? I thought all you wanted was medical information," Robin said.

"I just...I just feel as though this needs documenting – all of it. The lives you kids lead. It's incredible. Surely there should be some record of it?"

"Why? No one but you could ever read it," Robin pointed out. "That was the agreement, remember? No one but you knows."

"I remember, and believe me, I intend to honour that agreement. I just think...given time, you may want people to know about the work you do," Hill said carefully. He could see the indecision on Robin's face and raised his hands in a hurried gesture of peace.

"Look, I'm here to help you, that's all," he said. "If you don't like the idea of me keeping an account, I won't."

"No..," Robin said after a pause. "Maybe you should write about this. I mean, the Titans – we might not always be around. At least if there's a record of the things we did, part of us'll still be there for the future."

"That's a very mature thought," Hill said softly. Robin shrugged one shoulder and turned away, walking back around the desk and lowering himself into one of the seats opposite Hill.

"So what do you want to know?"

"Well, let's see...we were talking about how you handle cases – before I got carried away," Hill said apologetically, pausing to read over what he had written. Learning to sight-read his code had taken time, but now it was almost second nature to him.

"Right – uh, how much time do you allocate to each case?" The doctor asked.

"That varies with the case. Because there are five of us, we can conduct two or maybe three individual investigations at a time, and still do basic street patrols as well. If a case is really important, we'll spend as much time as we can on it, but sometimes the leads just dry up and we have to abandon them."

"Do you keep records of the cases?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember the first case the Titans solved?"

"Sure, the snake case," Robin said grimly. Hill hunched eagerly over his notebook and nodded for the youth to continue.

"It was pretty gruesome. Are you sure you want to write about this?" Robin asked.

"Absolutely. Go on."

"Well okay then. We hadn't been working together long when we got the case. Last year. It was an ugly first case. A man had been found crushed to death outside his house. At first I didn't want to touch it, it was too fresh and the cops were on it. But then Beast Boy went and had a look, snuck under the police tape as a cat or whatever, and saw the guy's body. He figured a snake had killed him, he just knew from looking at the body, the pressure marks. They were coiled, even around the legs. Nothing but a snake will do that. But it didn't make sense. It's only something like boa constrictors and pythons that crush their prey to death, so they can swallow the remains whole. Our guy had been crushed, but not eaten.

"We checked to see if anyone had reported a snake missing, but nothing came up, so we did some background research on the dead man. We found out that his brother worked in the zoo's reptile house, so we paid him a visit. The second we got talking to him, Raven picked up some kind of a telepathic connection between him and one of the snakes – a boa constrictor. When we confronted him about it, he tried to set the snake on us. Luckily, Raven broke the link between them before anything could happen, and Cyborg knocked the guy out cold.

"Without him telling it what to do, the snake went back to normal, but after that we had a problem. We couldn't really call the cops – there wasn't enough evidence to put the guy away. I think it was Starfire who suggested searching the guy's house. We found a giant freezer in his basement. There was the corpse of a woman in there. She'd also been crushed to death. There were a load of body parts. This guy had been making his snake kill people, and then freezing the remains, probably feeding them to the snake. He'd obviously been careless when he killed his brother, not icing the body. Anyway, we tipped off the cops straight away and left the guy unconscious and cuffed to the door of the fridge. He got life on multiple charges of murder. I think the snake's still at the reptile house."

Hill had abandoned trying to write out the narrative, and now sat staring at Robin in stricken silence.

"That's...awful," he said after a long moment.

"Yeah, it is. But the guy was stopped, that's the important thing."

"And this...this happened when last year?"

"I think it was November or there abouts. I've got the files if you want to have a look."

"That was your first case?"

"My first case with the Titans, yes."

"Robin...how old were you when that happened?" Hill asked. Robin pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Why?"

"I'd like to know," Hill said. He watched the boy give deliberate consideration to the question and its implications before responding.

"Same as now. Fourteen."

"And you solved a murder investigation?"

"What's your point?"

"You were all so young," Hill said feebly.

"I don't see that as an issue. We've solved a lot of cases since then, we're still solving them today. Age just doesn't come into it."

"Are you sure about that?" Hill said. "I mean, Beast Boy – he must have been...twelve at the time of that case? Twelve years old and seeing a dead body? That's an issue, Robin."

"I was – " Robin cut himself off abruptly and stared down at the floor for several seconds before speaking again. "Beast Boy knew what he was getting into when he joined. We all did. If I thought he couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have put him in that situation. But he can handle it. That's why he chose to be a Titan."

"At twelve years old, do you really think he should have been making those kinds of choices?"

"He was capable of choosing," Robin said curtly. "I think that's something you should write down. Too many people underestimate us because they think we're children. We're not."

"Robin – "

"If you don't mind, I've got to send that information to Raven now," Robin said, suddenly pushing himself up from his seat and collecting the laptop from Hill's desk.

"No, I don't mind," the doctor murmured. "You have to do what you have to do."

By the time evening arrived, a soft rain had started to fall outside. After a dinner of minestrone soup and buttered bread, Hill had sent Robin back to his room to rest ("Just take it easy – you've been doing a lot today."), but it was pointless. He was too wound up. He didn't even waste time entertaining the idea of sleep.

After taking a slow turn about the room, Robin wandered over towards the window and, opening it, settled himself comfortably on the sill. The sky outside was a smeared struggle between the fading light of evening and the gathering dark of rain clouds. The muted sounds of the city drifted up to Robin's ears, mingling with the quiet patter of rain. As night began to truly set in, Robin felt a familiar pull run through him.

He watched the city, spread below the house perched on its high ledge. He watched as the buildings grew indistinguishable in the disappearing light. He watched as the street lamps came on, then, leaning forward slightly, he watched as the tiny dots of brightness merged into the nighttime glare. A tingle of expectation found its way into Robin's chest, and not for the first time during his stay with Hill the youth contemplated just how long he might be able to sneak out for without the doctor noticing his absence. Invariably, Robin abandoned such thoughts with a frustrated shake of his head.

"I had a feeling you'd still be up."

Raven's gravely voice had Robin jumping to his feet, only to wince and sit down again heavily.

"Didn't mean to startle you," the girl informed him, sweeping into the room.

"How long have you been here?" Robin muttered, leaning slowly back against the wall.

"Not long." Raven halted beside him and gazed out the window. She still had the hood of her cloak up and she smelt of the rain.

"How did it go with Silvia?" Robin asked.

"Better than we'd expected."

"Did you get the information I sent you?"

"Yes. I read through it at the Tower. Interesting."

"What did Silvia say? Did you get her to talk about the ornament?"

"Yes. When I pressed her, she told me that it came from her husband's dig in Cairo. When he died, all of his possessions went to Silvia, and somehow the 'ornament' found its way from the dig to her apartment. It's actually an oval-shaped stone, about the size of an orange, completely bare except for one symbol carved into the surface. Silvia gave me a full description."

"Wait – a stone? Like the one Mathers is holding in that article photo?"

"He's holding it in that photo," Raven said, her eyes snapped to Robin's face, studying his reaction.

"This is good news then, isn't it?" he ventured. "At least now we know what we're looking for? We've got a description, we know its origin – "

"We don't need to pursue this any further," Raven said abruptly. Robin blinked at her.

"What? Why?" he managed. "I thought we agreed this ornament – this stone, could be dangerous?"

Raven said nothing for a moment, shifting away and seating herself on the edge of the bed. She paused to push the hood of her cloak back from her head and then quietly replied,

"What Silvia's husband found in Cairo was one of the Earthen Lord's Stones."

"Earthen Lord's Stones," Robin repeated blankly.

"I've only heard mention of them a few times before," Raven said. "But when I returned from speaking with Silvia, I looked them up. They're harmless."

Robin cocked his head with a faintly disbelieving expression.

"That's it? Harmless? So why was a man killed over it?" he asked.

"I said harmless, not inexpensive," Raven reminded him. "The Earthen Lord's Stones have existed only as rumours for a long time...a really long time. There's a lot of mystery surrounding them – very few people even accept their existence. But if one were to turn up – a real Earthen Lord's Stone – it would be virtually priceless."

"So how do you know for certain that Silvia owned one?"

"The burst of energy that I sensed, for one thing. It was very concentrated and powerful – but it dissipated within hours. That energy must have accumulated in the Stone over a long period time. What I sensed was seriously old – older than I was able to comprehend, and these Stones have supposedly been around since the dawn of man."

"That's...old," Robin breathed.

"Yes it is."

"Did Silvia know about all this?"

"She works at the Ronan Ford Museum uptown. That's how she and Mathers met. After his death, when the Stone came into her possession, she knew straight away that there was something special about it. She did her own research into the Earthen Lord's Stones, but until it was stolen, she believed her Stone was a forgery. She was one of the many people sceptical about the Stones' existence."

"So how come those thieves knew she had one?"

"I don't know. The fact is, the Stone didn't do anything more than release some energy – "

"And why do you think it did that?" Robin interrupted. Raven sighed softly, maybe out of annoyance, it was hard to tell.

"I don't know. Just about anything could have triggered it. The energy in that apartment must have been pretty intense right before that person was thrown through the window – that could well have set it off. The fact is," she said again. "The Stone itself isn't dangerous, and whoever stole it is probably only a collector with too much time and money on their hands. Now that they have it, they're not likely to try and sell it on. There's really no point in pursuing this, Robin. Unless, that is, you want to look at this as a homicide and go after the murderer who ruined Silvia's window."

Robin let out his breath. He sat in silence for a while, and then finally asked:

"Have you seen Cyborg and Beast Boy since you got back?"

"I saw them at the Tower," Raven said.

"How busy were they?"

"They've been trying to get a lead on those assaults over in Flat Side. I think they're patrolling tonight – Cyborg was talking about visiting some bars for information."

"Right."

"There's also been a lot of talking on the radio feed," Raven said. "From what I heard, the police seem to think the Glass Circle are going to make a move on a patch of Trolly territory. We need to watch that."

"Anything else?"

"There's always something else."

"You know what I'm saying here, Raven. We're swamped. I think we should just leave this whole Cradle Building burglary-homicide for the cops. We can still keep an ear out, see what happens, but there's no sense in chasing this. Chances are it was a one off," Robin said. Raven straightened her back – her equivalent of a luxurious stretch – and got to her feet.

"I agree with you," she said shortly, and though the words were delivered with little or no feeling, Robin felt privately relieved.

"Glad to hear it. Look, file this one up anyway," he said.

"I intend to. Now I think I should go," Raven said. "Cyborg and Beast Boy have probably got themselves into trouble by now."

"Raven," Robin called, leaning forward on the sill. The girl glanced at him with a faintly enquiring expression.

"I just wanted to know...how are things going with the team? Really?" Robin asked. Raven took a step closer to him.

"You mean, how are we managing without you?"

"I didn't say that..." Robin began, but at Raven's somehow knowing expression, he sighed. "Yeah."

"We're fine," Raven said. Robin stared at her, almost waiting for more, then simply nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Well, you should, uh, probably get going – "

"The boys don't bicker as much," Raven said suddenly. "But they don't...laugh as much either. Cyborg covers it, but he's feeling the strain of the responsibility. Beast Boy...manages to be as annoying as ever. He keeps asking me to play chess with him. He's missing you. And Starfire," Raven paused. The shadow of something resembling a smile flickered across her features. "No doubt she'd have some Tamaranian word for it, but she's missing you as well."

"I miss you guys too," Robin said. Raven's gaze shifted to a point beyond her leader's shoulder and she watched it in determined silence.

"I'll see you, Raven." Robin smiled. The girl's black eyes returned briefly to his face, and then she turned away.

"Oh, and play a game of chess with Beast Boy for me, will you?" Robin added. Raven tugged her hood up and scowled.

"For your sake, that had better have been a request and not an order," she said. Suddenly an orb of black matter crackled into existence in the air surrounding her, jolting the shadows hidden about her form into stark, white negatives.

"Goodbye, Robin," she said, and even as the boy watched, her feet and then her legs sunk smoothly through the floor as though it was not there, and the shimmering black that enveloped her body hummed with concealed power as she floated down, finally vanishing from view. The area of floor through which she had descended glowed darkly for an instant before flickering back to normal, the carpet as blue and innocuous as ever. Robin chuckled quietly, and then with a sigh, allowed his gaze to return to the city below.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week passed without any great event. Robin spent a good portion of his time doing research into cases, as well as hacking the Police Department database (an aspect of his work which he decided not to expose to Hill). The rest of his time he spent training and talking with whichever team mate managed to drop by. His strength was returning, but he still found himself struggling to complete even half of his routine workout. He tried not to let it bother him. The bullet wound was healing gradually.

But Robin was bored. Painfully bored. More and more he found himself hanging out of his bedroom window when Hill was not around, longing, against all reason, to just leap out and fly again...

"No use trying to rush these things," Hill would say patiently over the top of his newspaper most mornings. "Your body'll heal in its own time."

He's almost as bad as Al. Robin thought irritably, releasing his breath through his nose, slow and controlled.

"So that's Kung Fu?" Hill inquired, still not looking up from the page he was reading.

"Chi Kung," Robin said, forcing a yawn. He was trying to get as much oxygen in his blood as possible.

"Really? I like it – less of all that jumping around," Hill said, taking a bite of toast. "You should do more of it."

"I think I'll need to," Robin grumbled, shifting out of his stance.

"Hey – it's looking good from where I am," Hill said encouragingly, his mouth full. Robin sighed, stretched. His side gave a twinge and he had to stop himself from yelling in annoyance. He'd been stretching very carefully three times an hour, every day, and still the wound hurt. Gritting his teeth, he crossed the patio and joined Hill in the kitchen.

"Come and have some toast," the doctor said. He seemed to be developing an innate awareness of Robin's moods. The youth clamped down on his frustration and obediently took up a chair at the table.

"I can't take much more of this," he said, reaching for a slice of toast from Hill's plate and grabbing the jar of strawberry jam that stood at the doctor's elbow.

"You can and you will," Hill said shortly.

"I mean – how long is this thing supposed to take to heal?"

"As long as it needs to – "

"That's just too long," Robin muttered, savagely flattening jam onto his toast. Hill folded his paper in half and laid it down on the table.

"I keep telling you, most people would be lucky to heal as fast a you have in two months, let alone three weeks."

"Well I'm not most people."

"That's true...but I'm still your doctor, and I get the last say," Hill said smugly. Robin glared at him.

"Now tell me more about that Gee Kung stuff you were doing," the doctor said, relaxing comfortably back in his seat.

"Chi Kung," Robin corrected glumly. "Chi – inner energy, Kung – work. So it's working on your inner energy. And apparently I suck at it."

"Maybe you're just trying too hard – scaring away your, ah, inner energy?" Hill suggested. At that moment a phone started ringing.

"Hm. Excuse me," Hill said, moving to his feet. Robin was silent as he watched him hurry from the room. He'd almost forgotten that Hill owned a phone. It was the first time in almost three weeks that anyone had called.

Robin blew out his cheeks and turned back to his toast. He tore off a piece of crust and stared at it despondently for a few seconds until he heard the rapid sound of Hill's returning footsteps. Robin glanced around to see the doctor pause in the doorway.

"Of course...yes..." Hill was talking into a wireless phone, his expression notably uneasy.

"Here he is now – " Abruptly, Hill held the phone out to Robin. "It's Beast Boy."

With a weight of dread settling in his chest, Robin grabbed up the phone.

"Beast Boy?"

"Robin! Hey man – uh, sorry about this, but we kinda need your help." Beast Boy's voice crackled slightly and Robin knew he was talking on the communicator.

"What's happened?" Robin barked.

"Well..." In the background a police siren wailed, and Robin thought he heard something shatter and then the sound of people's voices raised in anger and fear.

"Beast Boy?"

"I'm still here!" the younger boy assured him. "Uh, the thing is – me and Star went to Groger's to see about this girl, Becky Carter, who went missing, and we found her! Go us! But, uh...this crazy guy is holding her hostage in his basement. He keeps saying he's a famous war hero and stuff, but no one knows who he is. It's getting really hairy – I mean, he has a gun! And he's talking about killing Becky!"

"Okay. Keep cool. Where are Cyborg and Raven?"

"Down town or something – they're hunting Sniper Guy."

"Have you tried reaching them?"

"Yeah – no one's answering."

"Alright Beast Boy, listen to me – I'll find what I can on this guy for you, but I'm going to need his name."

"Right. It's...um...Andrew Lawrence. Yeah – Andrew Lawrence."

"Andrew Lawrence," Robin said quietly. The name meant nothing to him. Yet. He looked sharply at Hill. "Can I use your laptop again, Frank?"

"Of course. I'll get it." The doctor turned on his heel and disappeared down the passage.

"Now where is this guy? In his basement?" Robin asked into the speaker of the phone.

"Uh huh. He's not budging," Beast Boy replied.

"That's fine. Where are you and Star?"

"Well, she said something about going down to talk to the cops – I'm hiding behind a busted down wall opposite Andrew's house. He's got one of those basement windows and he keeps shooting when we get too close. Becky's in there, Robin. What if he shoots her?" The boy's voice was strained and a little unsteady.

"That's not going to happen," Robin said with certainty.

"Do you think I should try getting in there? As a mouse?" Beast Boy suggested.

"No. No – stay right where you are. Don't go near this until we know more," Robin ordered. "Now how many cops you got?"

"Only one car."

"One car?" Robin repeated in surprise. He shook his head. "There must be more on the way – "

"I don't think so, man. They've all been called down to Kings Lot."

"Why?"

"Duh! It's about that bomb thing – we heard it on the feed last night. It was so totally Slade – even the cops know he's behind it."

"Slade?" Robin breathed. Ice spread across his insides.

"Yeah. Come on, you know he's been – oh, crap!" Beast Boy groaned suddenly, and there was a sound that could have been him slapping himself on the forehead.

"Wait, what were you about to say? Slade's been what?" Robin demanded, scraping his chair back as he moved to his feet.

"No – forget I said anything!" Beast Boy said desperately.

"Beast Boy – you tell me what the hell's going on," Robin ordered, and unable to keep still, found himself walking to the patio doors just as Hill returned with the computer under his arm.

"There's nothing to tell, okay?" Beast Boy insisted. "Can you please just help us out with this guy over here?"

"If Slade's back in this city, I need to know," Robin said quietly, something dangerous creeping into his tone. Beast Boy's nervous swallow was almost audible.

"Robin, man – don't do this to me!" he wailed. "We figured you'd be better off not knowing..."

"Tell me," Robin said. There was a painful pause. "That wasn't a request."

"Oh, I'm a dead man," Beast Boy muttered. "Alright already! It's no big deal – we just heard that Slade was around again and that he'd set off some bomb at some place – "

"Be specific."

"I don't remember – it probably isn't even true! The cops have it covered – they've got him trapped at Kings Lot. Okay? That's honestly all there is to it – so no need to go all crazy on us, okay Robin? Robin? Robin!"

"Your guy's name is Andrew Lawrence?" Robin asked abruptly, already back at the kitchen table and keying the laptop into life. Hill watched him in tense silence.

"Um – yeah, that's right," Beast Boy agreed hesitantly, somewhat thrown off.

"He's ex military," Robin said.

"That's what he's saying."

"Air force? Marine Corps...?" Robin prompted.

"Marines. Yeah, he keeps yelling about that," Beast Boy said.

Robin shifted the phone to his left ear and began rapidly typing in a search. It took about two minutes.

"Right. Andrew Lawrence. Retired marine – it's all here. Have you got your com. set to receive data?" Robin asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm sending it to you then." Robin paused, keying in some final instructions before hitting the mouse pad.

"Sure...I got it," Beast Boy said after several seconds.

"I'll find you the layout for the house as well," Robin said. "What's the address?"

Beast Boy told him.

"Fine..." Robin bent closer to the laptop screen and continued typing. Long moments passed and then – "Done. Here you go."

"Got it."

"Good. Now take that to those cops down there and coordinate with them. We've been through loads of hostage scenarios – I know you and Star can handle it. You've done this before, remember? The Dustan case?"

"I remember," Beast Boy said. He was sounding progressively more and more worried despite the controlled calm in his leader's voice.

"But can we keep doing this? You know, talking? I mean, we could seriously use your help," Beast Boy pleaded, knowing already it was all in vain.

"You two have to take this one on your own, Beast Boy," Robin said quietly. "I've got things to do."

"Oh no – I know what you're thinking, and I'm telling you right now, it's not happening, man! Just give the phone back to Doctor Hill and let me talk to him!" Beast Boy said, trying to make his voice as authoritarian as possible.

"Sorry. You've got to go now, Beast Boy. Good luck," Robin said.

"No, wait! Please! Robin – " Beast Boy's final protest was cut off as Robin hung up.

"Is he going to be okay?" Hill asked pensively. Robin stood staring at the phone in his hand as though he expected it to start ringing again, then placed it down on the table and turned once more to the computer.

"He's with Star. They know how to take care of each other," he said.

"Shouldn't we call the police?"

"They already sent a squad car."

"And what was that about...Slade was it?" Hill asked curiously. Robin's shoulders tensed and he looked at the doctor sharply.

"It's nothing. Slade's my problem."

"Oh," Hill said, not really sure how else to respond. "Uh...I think I may have heard of him before. From what I remember, he's quite the dangerous character."

"He's dangerous alright," Robin said quietly.

"But nothing you need to worry about? I mean, it's all under control, right?" Hill asked. Robin took several seconds before answering.

"It will be."

Hill frowned, faintly unsettled by the monotone response, but Robin's attention had returned to the laptop now and the doctor was reluctant to interrupt him.

Robin pushed the mouse icon around the screen, running through the information on each window he'd pulled up before halting abruptly. He frowned.

"What is it?" Hill leant forward and studied the screen anxiously.

"This one didn't send," Robin murmured. He gave the mouse pad a couple of taps and grunted in annoyance. "No. It's not going to work. Beast Boy's closed his com. already."

"Well what is it? Is it important?"

"It's the layout of the house," Robin said, scratching his chin. He paused, his eyes shifting from the laptop to the phone. Suddenly he ran from the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Hill followed him along the passage and into the front room.

"My com," Robin called back, halfway up the stairs. "We have it here don't we?"

"Yes – I remember putting it with your suit in the closet," Hill replied.

"Good. I can send Beast Boy the layouts with that." Robin halted when he reached the landing and hung over the glass railing, looking down at Hill who still hovered at the foot of the stairs. "Can you close down all those windows on the computer for me – all of them except from the one we want. It'll make downloading the information onto my com. easier."

"I'll try," Hill said. Robin watched him go, and then turned slowly to the hallway that led to his room. He stepped up to the tall ebony closet. Pulling the doors open, he paused to take in the familiar sight of his suit. He held still, listening for Hill.

There was silence.

Robin reached for the suit.

The window slid open without a sound. Robin moved up onto the sill and then carefully out along the ledge. The wind that morning was brisk and cool, tossing his cape against his legs and gently swaying his body. Robin narrowed his eyes and scanned the rough tumble of rocky land that lay about a mile before the house. Beyond that, Jump City gleamed in the sun like spilt sugar. Robin sized up the drop from the window to the ground. He could make it without using a grappling hook. Slowly, he turned his back and stepped up onto the balls of his feet. He gripped the sides of the window frame and sucked in a deep breath.

"Sorry Frank," he said, and then pushed back.

Fear collided with delight. The sensation of falling shot up through his chest like a bolt of electricity. Without looking down he could feel the ground nearing, startlingly fast, but he was ready. He used those vital moments to relax his legs and bend his knees slightly, keeping his spine loosely curved and his arms out by his sides. His feet hit the ground first, but he went backwards too fast for the impact to shatter any bones. He dropped straight onto his backside, manipulating the force of the fall so that its momentum rolled him onto his back, then his shoulders. His hands went down, planting either side of his neck and pushing with all his upper body strength. He sprang up from the ground again, curling his body as he went, so that his feet were firmly beneath him when he landed. His finishing stance was perfectly balanced, stopping all movement neatly.

Robin let out the air that remained in his lungs, slowly flexing the muscles down his side. He was stiff – he'd have to watch out for that. He spared a satisfied glance up at the window. Flying – or more precisely, falling – was one thing at least that he didn't need practise at, even if his body was still healing. He turned away and studied Jump City once more.

"Kings Lot," Robin said under his breath. He did not have a lot of time.

Chapter Text

Police Procedural

Detective Vincent Clines was having a shitty day. It was official. He'd woken up in a bad mood that morning, stubbed his little toe on the side of the nightstand, had an argument with his girlfriend, spilt his coffee down his pants, and arrived late at the squad-room. There, he'd had an argument with his partner, gotten stuck in traffic, and subsequently arrived late at Kings Lot. It was with a fairly harassed expression that he hauled himself out of his car and slammed the door closed behind him.

Now Clines liked to think that he was a man of logic and reason. Pessimism wasn't something he indulged in a great deal, and he had been trying rather determinedly to focus only on the positive. Sure, he knew that his less than punctual arrival wasn't about to go over too well with his captain, but he also knew that shitty days classically became less shitty when you approached them with a clear perspective and worked your way through with a good attitude.

"Wonder if it's too late to call in sick."

Heaving a sigh, Clines steeled himself and stepped forward into the chaotic Lot.

The young detective manoeuvred his way through the sea of cops and guns and cars, all of which had been somehow crammed into Kings Lot. It took some time and a considerable amount of patience, but Clines finally reached the epicentre of the madness. There, in the thick of it, Captain Roger Kilcullen's head of blazing red curls could be seen, quivering with energy as he berated his men, his voice, roughened with a faint Irish brogue, rumbling loudly over the general noise – so loudly in fact, that he did not even need the bullhorn he was waving about for Clines to hear every word that he was saying.

"Get those back exits covered!" Kilcullen bellowed. "This bastard's not going anywhere."

"Captain – bomb squad's ready," a man reported at Kilcullen's side.

"About goddam time. Tell them to stand by," the captain snapped. As the man nodded and scurried off, a tall woman strode purposefully up to take his place.

"Just give me the word," she murmured.

"Cool your jets, Tremain. I want this clean – you just keep your boys and girls on their leashes until I give the say so," Kilcullen growled. The woman, Lieutenant Charlotte Tremain, snorted softly and pushed the Ray-Bans she wore further up her long, well-defined nose. Cradled under her arm was a helmet, black like the rest of the bulky SWAT uniform she wore. Clines squinted as the helmet's visor managing to reflect sunlight right into his eyes and, although Tremain's own eyes were hidden, Clines was sure she was watching him and smirking.

"You got that?" Kilcullen demanded. Tremain's lips curled.

"Yes Sir!"

Kilcullen scowled at her for a moment, then his gaze snapped back to the building that was the cause of all the commotion. A lot of hopes and anxieties lay within that building. Kilcullen watched it like a hawk, his eyes flitting from window to window, from door to door, and then finally along the entire length of the roof.

"How are my snipers?" he asked sharply.

"They probably have sunstroke by now Sir, but they're in place," Tremain responded casually. Approaching, Clines smiled wryly. Only Tremain could get away with saying something like that.

As expected, Kilcullen only nodded, and then turned to rest an elbow on the open door of his car. His index finger tapped restlessly on the handle of his bullhorn. He was a large man, powerfully built and so intense that people found themselves intimidated merely from looking at him. His features were strong and set and generally to be found occupied with some expression of anger or irritation. His voice was guttural, and when the need arose (which was quite frequently), he could project it tremendously. He was a shouting man by nature. Oddly though, Clines had never really felt frightened of him. Until now.

"Clines," Kilcullen barked suddenly. "What'd you do – have an accident on the way?"

Clines blinked, not even bothering to fain understanding.

"Sir?"

"Your trousers," Kilcullen said. He'd barely even glanced at the detective. Clines sighed. He pushed his coat open unashamedly and stuck his hands in his pockets, glaring defiantly at Tremain when she cocked an amused eyebrow.

"It's coffee, sir," He stated.

"Sure it is. Listen Clines, it's good that you're scared," Kilcullen said. Clines rolled his eyes. There was absolutely no way to tell whether Kilcullen was joking or being perfectly serious.

"Keeps you alert, see?" Kilcullen went on. "We need to be alert to catch Slade. And we're not leaving without him."

"So he's definitely in there?" Clines asked, taking a look at the building himself.

"I sure as hell hope so!" Kilcullen exclaimed. He tilted his head and finally looked at Clines directly. "So...is this some kind of silent protest, or have you actually lost your partner?"

"No Sir. Shepard's around here somewhere – she wanted to take her own car..."

"Pissed her off, did you? Happens." Kilcullen gave a dry bark that could have been a laugh. "But with you it happens more often than not!"

Clines opened his mouth to reply, maybe to defend himself, but the captain had suddenly turned away and was now raising the bullhorn to his mouth.

"Slade." Kilcullen's voice echoed around the lot and every cop there fell silent and hastened to find cover. Kilcullen wet his lips, enjoying the anticipation in the air.

"This is the police," he went on. "And in case you haven't noticed, we're all waiting for you, punk."

During the pause that followed, the air was filled with the dry clicks of gun hammers cocking. Clines glanced around. Tremain was nowhere to be seen. He knew she'd be with her team, and he quickly chose a spot for himself on the other side of Kilcullen's car. He jerked his .38 from its holster at his side and levelled it at the front door of the building.

"It's over, Slade," Kilcullen's voice boomed. "Now, if there's someone in there with you, send them out first, unharmed, then you follow them with both those hands clearly visible. You got thirty seconds."

The lot was deadly silent. Clines chewed his lip. Sweat made his jacket stick unpleasantly to his back, and vaguely he wished he'd left the damn thing in the car.

"Time's ticking away, Slade." Kilcullen managed to sound convincingly bored. The seconds were indeed sliding by, and presently the captain raised the bullhorn again.

"Ten seconds," he said. Still nothing. There was no movement at any of the windows, the door stood unmoving in its frame.

"Five seconds. Not making this easy on yourself, are you?" Kilcullen lowered the horn and glanced at his watch. Clines squeezed his left eye shut and adjusted his aim minutely so that if someone where to suddenly explode through the building's front door flailing a machine gun, they'd be stopped dead by a slug in the chest.

"That's it, Slade," Kilcullen announced. The tension in the Lot peaked. "We're coming for you."

Kilcullen tossed the bullhorn into his car and grabbed at the radio on his shoulder pad. "All units move in."

Clines watched as Tremain's SWAT squad smashed in the door. They'd be going in through the back as well. Clines looked over his shoulder at the surrounding buildings and didn't know whether to feel heartened or unsettled by the sight of snipers perched along every rooftop.

"We'd better have the right house," the detective breathed. From the other side of the car, Kilcullen shot him an irate glance, though similar thoughts were undoubtedly crossing his own mind.

"This is unit one, we're in the lobby. No sign of him yet," a male voice crackled over Kilcullen's radio.

"Unit two, reporting. Second floor's clear."

Long moments passed. Clines rubbed the side of his face on his arm, leaving a damp mark of sweat. God it was hot.

"Unit two, how's the third floor looking?" Kilcullen barked impatiently into his shoulder.

"It's quiet, sir."

"Unit one? What about you?"

"We're on the stairs. Still nothing to report."

"Keep looking," Kilcullen said, and released the radio sharply. "Son of a bitch, Clines...if you turn out to be right about this..."

"Who tipped us anyway?" the young detective muttered.

"Oh, no tips. We got this one off our own steam. Slade's in there." Kilcullen nodded to himself and grabbed his radio again. "Tell me something, kids."

"Sir...there's nothing here. It's empty," unit one said, disappointment colouring his voice.

"Same down this end, Captain. Slade's a no-show...wait...I think we've got something..." The voice paused and Clines found himself holding his breath.

"Sir?" A different voice came across the radio suddenly.

"Tremain? What have you got for me?" Kilcullen asked.

"Thought you'd like to know, we may have a bomb up here."

"Christ! Where in the hell is Slade?" Kilcullen growled.

"Not here. The place is clean," Tremain said coolly. "Well, all except for our little friend. Better send the boys up, I don't know what this is. There's no timer or anything – "

"Alright, they're on their way. Get your guys out of there." Kilcullen signalled for the bomb squad to go in and, turning his back on the building, slammed the palm of his hand down on the roof of his car.

"It's impossible!" he spat.

"What a waste," Clines said, sliding his gun back into its holster.

"It's impossible," Kilcullen said again. "He was here."

"Was," Clines agreed. Kilcullen stood scowling for a while, and then raised his hand and called a man over.

"Assemble a team and prepare to search the surrounding area," the captain ordered. "We're going to sweep it."

"Sir, he's not here," Clines said. Kilcullen looked on the verge of lunging across the car and strangling him.

"I said we weren't leaving without him – I meant it," the captain ground out, and set off through the mass of milling cops towards the surveillance van parked at the far side of the lot. Clines jogged after him.

"Look, I want to see this guy taken down as much as you do...okay, maybe not that much, but let's face facts: Slade saw this coming."

"Clines, I swear to god, if you want my foot up your ass, you're going the right way about it," Kilcullen snarled, halting at the van door. He grabbed the arm of a techie. "Get those tapes from last night."

Clines shook his head. Most of the time Kilcullen's hunches hit eerily close to the mark, but he was only human. The detective privately felt that his superior was well overdue for a lesson in letting go and admitting when you're wrong. It was only a matter of time. The answers they were looking for weren't always just going to drop out of the sky –

"Well, I'll be damned," Clines murmured, his gaze directed upwards.

"Right, Clines – take a look. These images were lifted off those cameras last night," Kilcullen said, stabbing a beefy finger at the fuzzy screen of a monitor. He looked up when he noticed the other man wasn't listening.

"I think we've got company, sir," Clines said, a sour little smile creeping across his face. Kilcullen shielded his eyes and glared in the direction the detective was looking. His eyebrows rose in an uncharacteristic display of surprise and his hand lowered once more to his side.

"Well, well, well," the captain growled. "About time the cavalry showed up, eh Clines?"

Chapter Text

Not a Bomb – As Such

Robin hadn't moved for a good ten minutes. Crouched on top of a streetlight, he'd surveyed the activity in the crowded Lot with a critical eye.

"You're making a mess of this, captain," he grumbled, picking out the burly figure of Kilcullen as he waded through his men towards a parked van. Looking closer, Robin bit off a groan of dismay as he recognised the man stood at the Captain's shoulder. The circus certainly had come to town. Robin allowed his gaze to drift to the building at the back of the lot that was getting all the attention. Something was going on, but he could sense from the atmosphere beneath him that Slade hadn't been caught. Kilcullen had sent in another SWAT team – but then Robin couldn't be sure that it hadn't been a bomb squad. He frowned thoughtfully. Why bombs though? Why now?

"What's your game, Slade?" Robin breathed. He sighed and glanced idly back in Kilcullen's direction. He almost toppled over backwards when he saw that both he and the other man besides him were staring straight directly at him. What an entrance that would have been...

Robin swallowed. He wasn't nervous. He looked quickly back at the building, then at those surrounding it. Slade wasn't here. It was all wrong – too clumsy. But then why were the cops swarming around the place? What had Kilcullen found? Only one way to know.

He wasn't nervous.

He made his decision and got to his feet with long-practiced ease. The two cops continued to stare up at him. He thought Kilcullen was smiling.

"Keep smiling, captain," Robin muttered. He glanced down and saw that the space beneath the streetlight was clear. He jumped. It was almost comical the way the cops reacted to seeing him. It was also unnerving. More than one pointed a gun.

"Relax – I'm a good guy." Robin waved. He made his way unhurriedly towards the van where Kilcullen and his assistant stood. The cops parted for him like the Red Sea.

"Good morning, captain." Robin halted several steps from the van and folded his arms loosely across his chest. He was conscious of all the eyes fixed on him but he managed to keep his face carefully impassive.

"Robin," Kilcullen acknowledged. Yes, he was smiling. "Nice of you to join us. Surprising, but nice. I take it you came alone?"

Something about the statement made Robin go cold inside.

"That's right," he said stiffly.

"Brave." Kilcullen nodded a couple of times.

"So how've you been keeping, kiddo?" asked the goon at his side. Robin pursed his lips.

"Pretty good, Clines. Yourself?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. My dentist's doing particularly well after all the business I gave him in January. A couple of my molars had to be replaced if you remember – the Stone Hill abductions? You let that guy smack me in the face with a board of wood?" Clines cocked his head politely.

"I remember. Sorry about that, Detective." Robin smiled thinly.

"That's nice, we're all friends," Kilcullen chuckled. His good humour, however, seemed to fade almost instantaneously as he caught sight of the cops still loitering around them. "Gentlemen? If you would? Get your asses back to work!"

The cops moved reluctantly on with their tasks, but Robin could feel them watching. Some seemed suspicious, others amused, but for the most part they were unfriendly. Up until a few months ago, Robin and his Titans had been viewed as criminals – vigilantes. Robin doubted if that view would ever truly change.

"So let's get down to business," Kilcullen said, gesturing for Robin to come closer. The youth didn't move.

"I'm not here to do business with you, captain," he said. "I just want some information."

"Information? Good. We're after some information ourselves. Up for a little exchange? You needn't even think of it as business," Kilcullen said. Robin narrowed his eyes uneasily. He didn't like this one bit. His instincts were set against it.

"Come on kid, play the game," Clines said quietly. Robin studied him, then the captain, closely. He was tensed, a part of him waiting of them to whip the handcuffs out. If they chose to, what was he supposed to do? Fight? One against...a whole precinct? Why on earth was he here again? Oh, right. Him.

Robin stepped up to the side of the van, but still kept a cautious distance from the two men.

"Okay. You're after Slade," he said shortly. "So am I."

"Then today's our day, Robin," Kilcullen said. "We're bringing him in."

Clines rubbed his forehead wearily. Robin caught the gesture and cleared his throat.

"No offence, but it doesn't look like you've been having much luck," he remarked. Kilcullen's expression darkened.

"What, you too? Look, Slade's here. Sure, he's not standing in front of us waving a flag around, but he's here. We just need to find the bastard. Excuse me."

"You sent another squad in," Robin noted.

"A bomb squad," Clines corrected him. Robin nodded, but his brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"A bomb? That's all you found?" he asked, curiosity making him expose himself a little.

"We think it's a bomb," Kilcullen muttered. "Why?"

Robin met his eye for a moment but looked away again swiftly.

"Nothing. This just..." He stopped, feeling inexplicably foolish. Things he would have felt comfortable saying to the Titans just seemed childish here, out in the open.

"I heard there was a bombing before? What happened?" he asked instead.

"Not keeping up with the news?" Clines said with mock surprise. "That's a first. Thought you and your little friends had the whole city bugged."

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Happened last week," Kilcullen said. "A Codey Building popped sky high. More than twenty were killed."

Robin grit his teeth, fighting down indignant anger. How could the others have kept this from him?

"You're sure Slade was behind it?" he asked.

"Oh, we're sure, son," Kilcullen laughed dryly. "We found out Slade's been dealing with the Codeys for a while. Things went sour from the looks of it, so Slade brought out his fireworks."

"No, no," Robin muttered. "That's not right. Slade didn't do it."

"Watching a movie with him at the time, were you?" Clines snorted. Robin ignored him.

"Did he leave anything? A message?"

"None that we found – but the shell of the bomb was still intact," Kilcullen replied. "Had his sign on it. Cocky son of a – well, it was him. That we're certain of."

"So what makes you so certain he's in there?" Robin asked, lifting his chin at the building behind Kilcullen.

"We have sources," the captain said mysteriously. "Plus we've collected quite a few goodies ourselves. We've even got a tape." Kilcullen slapped a hand on top of the small TV monitor that stood on a low shelf inside the van. Robin looked unconvinced, but edged closer despite himself.

"Play it for us, Art," Kilcullen said. A bald and sweaty man who wore a large pair of headphones was seated in the back of the vehicle amongst an assortment of computers and monitors. He turned around sharply at the sound of his name and peeled a headphone away from his ear.

"The tape, Art – play the tape," Kilcullen snapped irritably. Art nodded and grabbed the TV's remote, crooking his arm back and hitting the button to made the black screen blink into life.

What appeared was a grainy, black and white image of Kings Lot, the camera angle focused on almost the exact spot where they now stood. Robin could see clearly that it was night time, though no one in the lot's buildings had bothered to turn any lights on inside. As he continued to watch, he saw a dark car pull up at the corner of the screen. There were several moments of stillness, then a figure stepped out from behind the car and walked towards the end of the lot. Robin shifted automatically nearer to the TV. The figure, he noted, walked with a confident, long stride, and reached the far building in matter of seconds. The door was opened as the figure arrived on the step, but while a dim rectangle of light now framed the doorway, it was difficult to distinguish anything from the flickering image. The figure didn't step into the building straight away, but seemed to hesitate for an instant, turning slowly around until they were facing the camera almost straight on. Robin's breath caught at the familiar sight of the figure's masked face.

"Pause it, Art," Kilcullen barked. The image on the screen froze obediently.

Robin couldn't tear his eyes away.

"How did you get this?" he asked softly.

"The boys in narcotics sent it over," Kilcullen replied, a note of pride in his voice. "They've been watching Kings Lot for months. Drugs stake out. They picked this up last night."

"And you think that's him?"

"Without a doubt, son. How many people do you know who run around in masks at night?" Kilcullen demanded.

"Sir, look who you're talking to." Clines grinned. Kilcullen shot him a warning glance.

"It's possible that Slade planted someone to throw you off his trail," Robin said sharply. "All he'd have to do was know you had this place under surveillance and then send someone down. He could be out of the country by now."

"No," Kilcullen said shortly. "We've got a hell of a lot of sources that tie him to this area last night. This is it – we've got him." He patted the TV again, almost lovingly.

"With respect, captain, all you've got is a bomb," Robin said, finally looking up from the screen. "Even if this was Slade, he'd have left long before you got here."

"You know an awful lot about this guy, don't you kid?" Clines said suddenly. Robin gave the detective a withering look.

"Enough to do my job well."

"Right. But I've heard you two have a history," Clines persisted, scrutinising Robin's face closely.

"I don't know what you're implying," Robin said frostily. "I've worked cases on him if that's what you mean."

"Sure, sure. And about those cases – really nice the way you brought us into the loop with those." Clines smiled sarcastically.

"Screw you, Clines," Robin snapped, anger finally breaking through his composure. "When was the last time you guys gave us a look at your files?"

"Alright, don't make me separate you two," Kilcullen said loudly. As he spoke, the radio on his shoulder crackled and the voice of a woman broke into the discussion.

"Sir, Cash and Wakes have had a look at our bomb," she announced.

"What's the story?" Kilcullen asked.

"It isn't a bomb."

"That a fact? What is it then?"

"They can't be sure, sir, but Cash thinks it might be some kind of a container or transmitter."

"This just keeps getting better and better," Kilcullen muttered. "Alright Tremain – I want your squad to keep combing this place. Meet me out front – Slade's here somewhere."

"Sir," Tremain said compliantly, and the radio went silent.

"Let me up there," Robin said abruptly. Kilcullen frowned at him. "Let me have a look."

"Think you'll see something we missed?" Clines asked caustically.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Robin shot back.

"Do you know what this thing is?" Kilcullen asked Robin.

"Let me have a look and I'll tell you."

Kilcullen fixed the youth with a hard stare. Robin held his gaze determinedly. At length the captain grunted.

"Fine. Clines, take him up."

"What? Sir – " the detective spluttered.

"Do it," Kilcullen barked, already turning away. "I'll check in on you once this search is sorted – and there'd better not be a scratch on Wonder Boy here, or it'll be your neck! So play nice." The giant, redheaded man glared at them both in turn before lumbering off. Robin gave Clines a look of triumph.

"Yeah, yeah – let's get this over with," the young detective muttered. He strode off across the lot in the direction of the building and Robin was left to either follow or not. He followed.

"You're under my supervision now, kid, so don't try anything smart when we get in there," Clines said as they reached the entrance. Robin bit back a retort and settled for glaring daggers at the man's back. They stepped carefully over the shattered remains of the door and moved silently into the small lobby that lay beyond. A narrow staircase climbed up the wall to the right, and a shadowy corridor wound off to the left. The air stank of earth and damp plaster.

"Alright...stay close," Clines murmured, pulling out a gun. Robin tensed at the sound of footsteps overhead and moved instinctively away from Clines to give them both more room to manoeuvre.

Dark figures appeared at the top of the staircase, and Robin relaxed a little at the sight of their encumbered forms. This had to be the SWAT team.

"Clines, that you?" a voice – the same female voice that had spoken over Kilcullen's radio before – called from above.

"Yeah ma'am, it's me." Clines lowered his gun and waited. The woman led her team to the floor of the lobby and halted in front of Clines, tugging off the helmet she had been wearing and tossing a bronze lock of hair from her eyes.

"I wasn't aware you had training in explosives handling, detective," she said with a wry smile.

"Real cute Tremain. I thought you said the bomb's a fake," Cline pointed out. Tremain shrugged.

"Then what are you doing here? Hasn't the Captain signed you up for his wild goose chase?"

"Nah, he's got me down for tour guide." Clines jerked his head back in Robin's direction. Tremain's eyes shifted, widened slightly as they landed on Robin's face in the dim light.

"This day's just been full of surprises," she said. Clines snorted.

"Tell me about it. Anyway, we're heading up, so unless you wanna provide an escort..."

"Are you kidding, Clines? You don't need an escort with the company you keep. Hell, you're the safest man in Jump." Tremain smirked, and with a final, lingering glance at Robin, turned and followed her team from the building.

"She sure likes you," Clines grunted sarcastically, mounting the stairs. "Why don't you ask her out to junior prom? She's a total head case of course."

"Nice to know," Robin said distractedly.

"Sure. Just keep up, kid," Clines called back. They reached the second floor of the building. The carpet was rotting on the floor, and the windows had all been boarded up. There were several rooms leading off from the landing, but Clines only seemed interested in getting them to the top floor as quickly as possible. They took another set of stairs up to the next landing where they were greeted by one of Tremain's SWAT men.

"Well now, what do we have here?" the guy chuckled, pushing the visor of his helmet up to get a good look.

"Save it, Basch," Clines said irritably. "We're here to see your famous bomb."

"Aint a bomb anymore," Basch said. His eyes were fixed on Robin and it was almost as though he was talking to him.

"That's swell. How's about you let us take a look all the same?" Clines said.

"I'll do that, Clines." Basch nodded. There was a lengthy pause after which he still didn't move. "So," he drawled finally. "This your new partner or did you just raid a kindergarten?"

"Alright smartass, get outta the way," Clines snapped, and shouldered past the sniggering man with a look of disdain. Robin followed him and they headed further down the landing towards a doorway at the far end.

"Do you have any idea what being seen with you is doing to my reputation?" Clines hissed. Robin looked at him incredulously.

"That's guy's opinion's really important to you, huh?"

Clines just scowled at him. They reached the door and ducked beneath the copious amounts of police tape that had been strung up. Beyond was a small and sparsely furnished room. Its floor was bare and the one window had been partially boarded up, allowing only a little light to filter in on the scene. In the centre of the room were two men. From their dress, Robin placed them as members of the city bomb squad. They both stood, hands on hips, staring at the floor.

"Hey there, fellahs," Clines greeted, his voice almost sarcastically cheerful.

"Detective." One of the men threw a brief glance over his shoulder and nodded. "Captain told us you'd be up...doubt you'll be able to make much of this though."

"My little buddy here disagrees with you." Clines gave Robin a big wink. Robin couldn't remember wanting to punch someone more in his life.

"Oh yeah?" The first guy looked around again, and then catching sight of Robin, seemed to do a double take. "Well braid my hair and call me Pipi! If that isn't Robin, Boy Wonder! Hank! Hank, you gotta take a look here!"

The other man dutifully turned around and shook his head in amazement.

"You're shittin' me. That really him?"

"Hell, wait until I tell the kids about this – it'll really make their day, you know?" The first guy hurried over, and before Robin could put up any kind of resistance, his hand was been firmly shaken. "Name's Will – Will Cash. It's a real pleasure, son."

"Relax fellahs – he's signing autographs later on," Clines snarled.

"Wait now, I thought you had that little team of yours – what they called, Hank?" Will Cash scrunched his face up in thought. He hadn't released Robin's hand.

"We were talking about them just the other day, weren't we? The...er...Titans – that's it! The Titans," Hank supplied, taking his time in coming over. Robin forced a smile, trying politely to pry his hand free.

"You can't be a day older than my Bobby! I'll tell you now – you'll never see my kids runnin' around beating up bad guys – no sir!" Will looked suddenly over in Clines' direction. "Hey – you're not taking him in, are you? Weren't there some kind of charges against these kids? Vigilantes – that's what they call 'em, isn't that true Hank?"

"Sure is Will, sure is." Hank nodded sagely. "Damn shame if you ask me. Real damn shame."

"How's that, Hank?" Will glanced inquiringly at his colleague. Robin gave up trying to break their handshake and instead concentrated on fixing Clines with a look of pure hatred. The detective winked at him again.

"Well...bunch of kids trying to make this bum city a better place – and what do they get for it? Hard time in juvi!" Hank said with feeling.

"Mm-hm. I mean, what kinda city are we living in anyway where kids think it's up to them to put right all the problems?" Will shook his head mournfully.

"It's a crazy, mixed up world," Clines said with a pained sigh.

"Alright!" Robin had had as much as he could take. "Why don't you just let me look at that thing over there?"

Hank and Will blinked at him in surprise, and Will finally released him and took a step back.

"Well sure thing, sonny." He smiled indulgently and pointed to the middle of the room. "Right over there. Mind you don't touch it though."

Robin stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"Uh, Detective – you don't mind if we go out to the truck?" Hank said to Clines. "There's something in this manual I bought that might help us figure out what this thing is."

"Go right ahead."

"Won't be a minute. Come on Will."

"Just remember, no touching," Will repeated severely, and then followed the other man out. Robin breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them leave, and finally he stepped further into the room. The frustration and unease he had been feeling since arriving at Kings Lot abruptly quieted as his eyes fell on a dark, rectangular object sitting on the naked wooden floorboards. The object was about the size of a small shoebox and appeared to be made of some kind of black, shiny plastic. Robin crouched down in front of it. As he leant closer, his heart quickened at the sight of something carved into the object's otherwise unmarred surface. It was a jagged S.

Robin rubbed his face, kept his hand over his mouth as he looked away, then back again. The implications of that one letter were enormous.

"Well, kid?" Clines said at Robin's side, hitching up his trousers before hunkering down beside him. "Do we have to cut the red wire or the blue one?"

"It's Slade," Robin murmured. There was a soft electronic beep from the object and suddenly it seemed to split horizontally it half.

"What the hell did you do?" Clines cried, but Robin's attention was riveted on the object that was fast coming to resemble a mini computer more than anything else. He watched as the top half opened slowly upwards, and noted that sure enough, set there in the front, was a small screen. Robin let his hand drop limply to rest on his knee. Before his eyes, green writing appeared, and letter-by-letter, words formed in the centre of the screen:

voice clearance: authorised...

...opening link...

The screen went black. With a feeling of stunned resignation, Robin realised what was about to happen. Hazy points of light crept through the black, flitting in and out of focus, jumping and realigning themselves into...something. Into a picture – a face. A mask.

"Hello, Robin."

Slade's voice was smooth and clear. He could have been standing in the room. The hairs on Robin's neck prickled.

"Slade."

"We haven't spoken for some time. I was starting to think you were ignoring me."

"I've been busy," Robin said quietly. He slid his hand beneath his cape and felt along the compartments of his utility belt.

"Yes. I heard you were shot. Painful, isn't it? But you've had time to recover. I thought I'd let you stretch your legs."

"Got some more errands for me to run?" Robin could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice but he didn't care. His fingers slid into a pouch in his belt and closed around a small device that lay there.

"Something like that," Slade murmured. "Although this time you may wish to keep your current identity. I doubt your new friends in the police department would appreciate another visit from Red X."

"Red X?" Clines had finally found his voice. He turned his head and stared at Robin in disbelief. "What about Red X?"

"Nothing," Robin said sharply. He kept his eyes fixed on Slade. "You're not manipulating me again."

"But I never manipulated you," Slade said. Robin could hear the smile in his voice. "Everything you did as Red X you did of your own free will. I confess – you certainly impressed me, as you no doubt intended."

"You flatter yourself," Robin spat. He suddenly slapped the tiny device from his belt onto the side of the screen. "Whatever it is you want to say, you'd better say it fast. I'm tracking your signals straight to you."

"And then what?" Slade asked. "You'll come and arrest me? You do amuse me, Robin."

"What do you want, Slade? Why've you been blowing up half the city?"

"You're exaggerating, but I had hoped to get your attention. It worked rather well, didn't it?"

"What do you want?" Robin ground out again.

"If I told you that, I would be making things too easy. Besides, I'd rather have that discussion face to face. And perhaps without an audience." Slade turned his head in Clines' direction for a moment.

"Tell me when and where."

"Patience, Robin. We'll meet when I know you're ready. Until then, expect a few surprises, and by all means keep trying to find me. I do know how very much you enjoy it. Goodbye then...for now." Slade inclined his head and the screen of the box went blank once more. Robin reached forward to check the status of his locator, but stilled when the box started emitting a shrill series of beeps. His eyes widened.

"Get down!" he yelled and, grabbing Clines by the shoulder, pulled the detective firmly back. The frequency and pitch of the beeps rose to an almost unbearable level, but all Robin could do was throw his cape over himself and Clines and hope for the best.

For an abrupt instant the room went silent, then the box exploded. The force of the blast hurled them backwards. Robin felt the muffled scorch of heat, but his cape took the brunt of it. In the ringing calm that followed, he opened his eyes, and then closed them again. The air was filled with thick smoke.

"Are you okay?" Robin reached for Clines, but his hand met empty space. A hand grabbed hold of his wrist, and his arm was forced down and around behind his back.

"What –?" Robin took in a sharp breath and immediately regretted it as smoke spilled into his lungs. Choking hard and unable to resist, he was rolled forcefully onto his stomach and his wrist was pinned against his back.

"I'm placing you under arrest, Robin – or should I say Red X?" Clines paused to cough against the sleeve of his coat before reaching around to unhook handcuffs from his belt.

"I just saved your life!" Robin shouted, his eyes burning as he blinked, trying to clear his vision. Clines only pressed down on him harder and Robin cried out at the familiar lance of pain up his side.

"Shit! Anyone in there?" a voice called from close by. It sounded like the SWAT guy from the landing.

"Over here, Basch!" Clines yelled. "Break the boards on the window and get this damn smoke out!"

Robin gritted his teeth and slammed his free hand down beneath him, twisting his body so sharply that the weight on his back was throw off. Clines cursed as he stumbled off balance, and Robin used the time to wriggle free, keeping low as he rolled to his feet. He unclipped a slim bar of metal from his belt and applied sharp pressure to its middle with the palm of his hand. He was rewarded with a snap of motion as the bar extended with high speed into a bo-staff. He crouched in rigid readiness, searching for Clines in the suffocating clouds.

There was a splintering creak of wood and a crash of shattering glass from the opposite end of the room, and Robin squinted as sunlight hit him through the swirling black smoke. At least now he knew where the window was – and more importantly, where the doorway was. He sprinted blindly in that direction, almost colliding with a shadowy figure too tall to be Clines. The guy jerked in alarm, swinging the machine gun he held towards Robin's chest. Robin didn't hesitate. His staff whistled as he cracked it down on the guy's hand. There was a howl of pain in response, and then the staff flew up once more, knocking the man's weapon from his slackened grip. Robin took half a step back then, and bowing slightly, whipped his staff into the man's legs, sweeping them out from beneath him in one fluid move. The SWAT man hit the ground hard, and Robin sprang over him to the door.

"Freeze!" Clines' voice barked from behind. Robin kept going – he could feel a cool touch of wind on his face.

"I said freeze! Freeze damn it, or I'll shoot!"

The smoke was clearing too fast. Clines might well have a shot. Would he really take it? In a split second, Robin's mind was flooded with memories of the bank robbery, of the bullet ripping into him, of the terrible numbness, of the pain –

"Freeze!" Clines cocked the hammer of the gun. Robin stopped dead in his tracks, fear, irrational and instinctive, holding him in place.

"That's good! Don't move." Clines clenched his teeth together, keeping his gun aimed at the youth's back as the smoke thinned around them.

"You alright, Basch?" he asked the man on the floor.

"Peachy," Basch grunted, nursing his hand with a tight expression on his face. "Now what the hell's going on? I thought we all agreed that thing wasn't a bomb!"

"Yeah – that was before Wonder Boy here activated it," Clines snapped, taking cautious steps over to the window. Broken glass and wood crunched beneath his shoes. "Turn around, sunshine."

Robin's grip on his staff tightened. He turned slowly, lifting his chin defiantly as he met Clines' condemning glare.

"What's your problem?" the youth said, his voice quiet and slightly unsteady.

"My problem? No, no – I don't have a problem. You see I worked the Red X case a few months back – bunch of computer companies getting their latest technology stolen by some joker in a costume. In the end I threw the case in the Open File because I had no idea who he was. But the whole time it was so obvious. I bet you were just laughing it up! Well, not any more. Now you're the one with the problem. You're Red X – that makes you a criminal."

"I returned the disks," Robin said fiercely in his defence.

"Doesn't work like that, kid." Clines smiled coldly. "You can't play the big hero one day and the bad guy the next. You broke the law, and I'm going to see you pay for it like anyone else would."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I only did it to get close to Slade."

"Yeah? Well you sure managed that. I mean, have you just been working for him this whole time, is that it?"

Robin felt the words like a slap in the face. He couldn't speak for a moment as he tried to hold his temper in check.

"If I'm working for Slade," Robin said slowly. "Why would he put me in a room with a bomb?"

"Don't want to hear it. Now drop the pole and raise your hands. You're under arrest."

"No."

"Just do it, Robin. Don't make this difficult." Clines barked.

"What on earth's going on in here?" a voice asked from the doorway. Robin looked around and was surprised to see a young woman standing watching them. She had the build of a dancer and she held herself with as much poise. Her eyes were green and lively and her hair was short and blonde, tied into a wispy plait at her neck. Robin recognised her immediately as Clines' partner, Ellen Shepard.

"Hey, El," Clines greeted her tersely. "I've got this – it's under control."

"Sure. You just want to explain to me why you're pointing your gun at the kid?"

"He's Red X."

"Who?"

"Red X? Responsible for those computer software thefts a couple months back?"

"You trying to tell me Robin's Red X." Shepard folded her arms in front of her and fixed her partner with a steady look.

"He's admitted it himself!" Clines insisted. "You gonna back me here, Basch?"

"Uh...I think I'll go get some ice for this." Basch got to his feet and hurried past Shepard into the corridor.

"Vinnie, why don't you just put that gun away?" Shepard sighed. Clines glared at her.

"Whose side are you supposed to be on here?"

"Look, the captain's on his way up with Tremain – what are you going to tell them?"

"That this little bird belongs behind bars!"

"Oh God." Shepard rolled her eyes despairingly. She glanced over at Robin. "Don't mind him, kid. He's an asshole most of the time."

"I gathered," Robin muttered, his gaze never leaving the gun pointed at him.

"Fine. I wanted to do this myself anyway," Clines said. "Drop the pole and raise your hands. I'm not going to ask you again!"

"You're being an idiot." Shepard took a sudden step forward. "You can't arrest him for Christ's sake – there'd be uproar! Henderson'd have your job before you could finish cuffing him. For the last time, these kids aren't our enemies."

"Don't start with me, El. Not now."

"Put the gun away."

"What is this?" Clines yelled. "Are you saying that he can just do whatever the hell he wants without consequences? He broke the law!"

"Prove it," Shepard said quietly. Clines frowned.

"What?"

"Prove that he broke the law."

For several moments Clines was at a loss for words. Shepard crossed the room and stood in front of him, blocking his line of fire. Her face was set.

"Trust me Vinnie. Let him go," she said firmly.

"This is unbelievable," Clines growled. His gun hung half-raised between them, while Shepard unwaveringly continued to hold his furious look. Robin studied the detectives warily. Out in the corridor, he could hear the sound of someone approaching. He glanced longingly at the open window, mere feet away, and making his decision, he retracted his staff back into a bar and returned it to his belt.

Across the room, the two detectives were apparently trying to stare each other down. Clines broke first. Without a word, he clicked his .38 back onto safety and jammed it viciously into its holster.

"Don't be sore at me, Vinnie," Shepard said, her expression softening with relief.

"I thought we were supposed to be partners," Clines said heatedly.

"We are. That's why I'm saving your ass."

"It'd be too much to ask for you to just back me up for once?"

"Vinnie – "

"Forget it. I'm out of here," Clines muttered, and began to move away.

"What about the kid?" Shepard asked, turning.

"Looks like he had the same idea," Clines snorted. Shepard's shoulders sagged when she saw that the room was empty. Clines looked at her and shook his head.

"This is what you wanted, right?"

Shepard parted her lips to reply, but a curt voice spoke before she could.

"What the hell happened?" Lieutenant Tremain strode in through the doorway and, shouldering past Clines, went over to the charred remains of Slade's box, still smoking on the floor.

"My partner'll answer that," Clines said bitterly.

"It was a bomb? And it went off?" Tremain said. This was about as close as she got to sounding confused. "Where's Robin?"

"Not my problem," Clines muttered, walking to the door.

"Where's he think he's going?" Tremain demanded, looking from Shepard to Clines' retreating back.

"Home," Clines shouted over his shoulder. Tremain's mouth hung open for a few seconds before she could gather herself.

"Like hell you are! Clines! Have you forgotten about Slade –?"

"There's no point, Tremain," Clines snapped. "Any chance we had of catching Slade just went out the window."

Chapter Text

Titans Tower

Robin grabbed his communicator from his belt and flipped the top back. On the small, circular screen beneath was a computerised map of Jump City. Five tiny dots flashed at various points about the map – one for each member of the Titans. A red dot indicated to Robin that he was on the eastside of the city, standing on a rooftop on Sanwall Street. A black dot told him that Raven was at Titans Tower – and a blue dot alongside it confirmed that Cyborg was with her. That was all Robin needed to know. He snapped the communicator shut and glared down at it for several long moments. His breathing was a little unsteady still. He closed his fingers tighter around the device, relaxing only when he heard the plastic creaking under the strain.

Slade was back.

Robin raised his head sharply and returned the communicator to his belt. He walked to the edge of the roof. The sun had reached its highest point in the sky, and heat beat down oppressively on the city below. Robin wiped at the perspiration on his face and squinted out over the dazzling world beneath him, over the endless stream of people and cars, the roads, the buildings and shops, the giant skyscrapers towering high above like great redwoods in an artificial forest of metal and concrete – all of it shimmering wetly in the sun. At night it was a whole other world. Robin broke his gaze off and set his focus on reaching Titans Tower.

Covering the rooftops of Sanwall was accomplished through several swift bounds, and pausing at the street's end, Robin dropped his eyes to where the road below branched off into a noisy intersection. He spent a few short moments loosening up the muscles in his arms, and then he stepped up to the edge of the roof and dived. Air hit his face in a warm blast and flattened his hair back from his forehead. He slowed the rate of his fall with flips and rolls, his arms spread wide from his shoulders, then judging the distance across the intersection at a glance, he cocked his right arm and shot a grappling hook from the launcher mounted on his wrist. The cable flew out like a ribbon on the air, the hook at its head latching onto the stone ledge of a window and causing the cable to snap taught as it took his weight. Robin straightened his legs in front of him and swung up high above the congested traffic like a bird taking flight. He rose to the peak and quickly threw out a second line. His right-hand launcher retracted the first hook and cable with a snap, and again he plunged downwards. He continued to fire lines from alternate launchers until he had carried himself through Jump's centre and out towards the city's fringes. There lay a coastal area that skirted the sea, rows of flats and houses gradually giving way to stretches of grass land and more secluded properties. The fresh smell of the sea lingered on the dry air, and the wind seemed stronger – the further flung areas appearing altogether more exposed in the absence of Jump's built-up cityscape.

Robin stopped using his grappling hooks as the frequency of closely packed buildings began to lessen, and soon he was making his way along a sandy little road that wove its way laboriously in between the giant grassy knolls of the coastal land. The road was known as Anchor's Way, and usually Robin avoided it, ever conscious of prying eyes, but in truth few vehicles ever made use of the road, and he was too impatient at that moment to bother with any other route that might take longer. As Anchor's Way neared its end and started to narrow and stem off into various smaller paths, the ground rose higher and higher, and on either side sprang up tough thickets of gorse and bramble. Robin followed the main path, and as he walked further up the massive mound, the sound of breaking waves reached his ears. After rounding a miniature undergrowth of wild and thorny bushes, a modest summer house came into view, complete with an attractive garden and a stone path leading up to a veranda. Robin ignored the house and kept walking. His sights were set on the pinnacle of the summit. There, perched up against the sky and shinning whitely in the afternoon sun, was a lighthouse.

The ledge of land upon which the lighthouse and the summerhouse had been built was a massive shoulder of stone that jutted out immensely over the iron-blue ocean far below. The drop from the ledge was sheer, and it was for this reason that a sturdy wooden fence had been erected around the entire perimeter.

A path up to the lighthouse was only barely distinguishable amongst the tall and fierce grasses that had taken seed and spread to cover almost the entire face of the ledge. The path had been neglected so that it appeared disused, and the lighthouse itself looked, by all appearances, to be run down and derelict. Rampant ivy had asserted a strong hold over the tall structure, and its walls, while still gleaming white, looked cracked and aged under closer inspection. There had once been a small doorway set into the front of the lighthouse, but it had been removed long ago, sealed with cement and old pieces of brick. The lighthouse's five or six windows had been similarly walled up, and they were obscured almost entirely by moss and ivy.

The blackened and empty sheets of glass that stared blindly out from the box at the top of the lighthouse were reminiscent of hollow eye sockets that had perhaps once housed something of use and purpose. Clearly, the building remained there on the ledge purely for sentiment's sake, in much the way that an old ornament is preserved respectfully atop a mantelpiece.

All in all, the lighthouse appeared useless and obsolete.

Appearances were deceiving.

Robin walked around the lighthouse to a grassy patch that lay behind, almost on the very brink of the cliff's edge. The back of the lighthouse was even wilder than the front, its gleaming face half-hidden beneath the embracing arms of an old windswept tree that had taken up purchase in the solidly packed earth. While the tree looked as twisted and crumpled as an old leathery hand, its grip on the lighthouse was strong and uncompromising, and every time Robin saw it he couldn't help but think that the tree was seeking some kind of comfort or reassurance from the stoic building as the two of them stood staring out across the unending expanse of ocean.

Should someone have taken the time to look closer, they would have seen that there was in fact a narrow gap that lay between the tree and the wall of the lighthouse, large enough for an adult to wriggle through, yet dark and narrow enough to give them pause. Supposing that this someone did squeeze their way into the gap as Robin was now doing, they would have been disappointed to find only a cramped little space where the creased bough of the tree curved at their back like a wooden cocoon and the wall of the lighthouse stood blankly before them. Outwardly, there was nothing exceptional about the small and intimate hiding place, and the someone who had taken it upon themselves to investigate it would not have lingered there long. But Robin knew things about this place that other people didn't. He knew that the wall before him was not brick or stone, but steel – five inches thick, covered in a thin layer of plaster for camouflage. Robin also knew that set into the wall of the lighthouse was a small electronic panel, although concealed as it was amongst a confused tangle of tree branches, it was almost invisible.

Quickly, impatiently, Robin pushed the hard, bendy foliage aside and flicked open the panel. Beneath was a pad of squidgy plastic buttons with numbers up to ten printed on them. Robin paused for a moment before touching the buttons. He was unsure if the others had changed the old code since he had last used it three weeks ago. He punched the code in anyway (0627238) and was pleased to find that it was right. There was a quiet beep of approval from the pad, and the bland-looking lighthouse wall in front of him altered at once to reveal the outline of an entrance. There were a few moments in which nothing more happened, and then abruptly the hidden door pressed inwards and then slid sideways, disappearing into a slit in its metallic frame. Visible on the floor inside was a well-trampled doormat with a large faded T imprinted on it. Robin stepped onto the mat and the door slid closed behind him.

At last he was in Titans Tower.

The room was circular and colourful and more than a little crowded. In the middle was a large, round table with a mismatched selection of chairs and stools huddled about it. To the left was a TV, a low coffee table, a shelf of books and comics, and a comfy red sofa. To the right was a somewhat cramped kitchen area, complete with a stove, a sink, a fridge, some cabinets, three tall stools, and a chrome work surface that had been built into the wall. Small lamps with garish shades had been placed about the cheerful little foyer-come-common-room, and everything was cast in a warm and welcoming light.

Robin hadn't been home for quite some time, but now he barely gave the familiar surroundings a second glance as he walked past the table and towards a set of stone stairs that wound up the curve of the far wall. Robin's feet made barely any sound as he took the steps two at a time. He was soon on the next level of the building where there was a narrow landing. The walls were painted a tranquil cream and there was none of the busy disorder that there had been downstairs. There were two doors on the left wall and one on the right, but Robin ignored these and walked on, turning a corner and mounting a second set of stairs that lay there. At the top was another landing similar to the first, although on the floor was a large, stripy rug, and on the rug were several empty soda cans, a mangled tennis ball, a comb, a lumpy-looking pillow, a rusty metal toolbox with a spanner beside it, and one green sock. The mess had existed there for so long that it had become a permanent fixture of the landing, and it took Robin hardly any time to navigate a path through it all. The next set of stairs went on for longer, following the bend of the wall closely in an almost dizzying spiral that finally ended with a small passageway and then a door.

Robin could hear voices on the other side of the door and he paused for a moment. When there was silence, he reached for the handle – but before his hand could close around it, the door jerked sharply back. Robin had to step quickly aside to avoid colliding with the person who stepped out into the passageway.

"Cyborg."

"Robin!" The larger boy was clearly startled, but it lasted only a second, and then he had grabbed Robin by the arm and half-threw him through the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" Cyborg yelled. Robin jerked away from him.

"It's a secret," Robin said. "There're a lot of those going around."

"What?"

"Slade murdered twenty people! How could you keep that from me?"

Cyborg groaned quietly and pressed a hand to his face.

"Answer me," Robin said. Cyborg lowered his hand.

"What would you have done? Huh? What would you have done? Something as stupid as you did today?"

"Wait – you're angry with me?" Robin shook his head, astounded. "I'm the goddam leader of this team – you lied to me, and now you're angry?"

"Yeah I'm angry! The only reason we didn't tell you about Slade was because we knew you'd react like this! Every time you hear his name you go crazy – and we're sick of it."

"Right." Robin took a step back. He was nearly speechless. "Right. So that's how it is. Just because I want to catch Slade –"

"This isn't even about Slade!" Cyborg cried.

"Yeah – it's about being able to trust each other. How am I supposed to trust you when –"

"Oh please – don't talk to me about trust. What about Beast Boy? He trusted you and you let him down. You let the team down!"

Robin stared at Cyborg.

"Explain that to me," he said quietly.

"BB and Star," Cyborg said. "They needed you today and you did nothing."

"I made a choice."

"The wrong choice. You made the wrong choice, and BB had to pay for it!"

"What are you talking about? Where is Beast Boy?"

"Starfire took him to Doctor Hill." The sound of Raven's voice made Robin spin around. She was standing at the far end of the room.

"Why?" Robin demanded.

"He was almost killed," Cyborg said coldly.

"What?" Robin's voice was soft. The colour drained from his face and something inside him tightened painfully so that he almost couldn't breathe.

"He was trying to save a little girl and he nearly died," Cyborg said, watching Robin dispassionately.

"How?" Robin breathed. "I–I sent him the information...I sent him everything..."

"Not enough," Cyborg said. "He needed you. You should have helped him – you should have done something instead of running off to look for Slade. I mean, Christ – is that how little you care about him? You can just walk away and not even – "

"Cyborg," Raven said.

"No! Tell us – tell us how you could do that!" Cyborg moved close to Robin and forced his leader to meet his eye.

"I thought he could do it," Robin murmured. "I thought he'd be okay."

"No, you didn't think about him at all. All you thought about was Slade," Cyborg said. Robin clenched his jaw.

"Yeah well, someone's got to! I didn't notice any of you rushing down to Kings Lot. I'm sorry that Beast Boy was hurt, I really am, but until Slade is caught, this city isn't safe!"

"And what about us? What about your team? We're just – expendable?" Cyborg spat. Robin turned fully to face him, almost closing the distance between them.

"I never said that!"

"Yeah you did! You say it every time Slade pops up – it's like the rest of us stop existing!"

"So what? You want me to just give up? Forget about Slade? I have a job to do – I can't look after you all the time – "

"Look after us?" Cyborg repeated. At more than a foot taller than Robin, he towered over the other youth. Robin had to tilt his head in order to hold his gaze.

"What exactly does that mean – 'look after us'?" Cyborg asked, his voice low.

"It means you want too much from me! If Beast Boy can't take care of himself–"

"Oh, I hope I didn't just hear you say that." Cyborg's body was tensed, and the fire in his eyes made Robin subtly adjust his footing so that he would be able to defend himself. He was half-expecting the other boy to launch at him.

"This is pointless." Raven was suddenly between them and the hard disapproval in her eyes made them both look away.

"Whatever," Cyborg muttered. "I'm going to Hill's to check on BB."

"I'm going with you," Robin said immediately.

"Two of us need to stay here," Raven said bluntly. Robin and Cyborg exchanged heated looks, then silently the decision was reached, and without a word, Cyborg turned and left, slamming the door behind him. Robin stood very still, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to pick something up and hurl it. Instead he walked away and stood at one of the windows. This was the highest room of the building, and although outwardly the Lantern House appeared blackened and lifeless, from inside the view of the ocean and the surrounding land was crystal clear.

Robin glared out of the window. He felt Raven approach and come to stand beside him. After several seconds he glanced at her sharply.

"What else is there?" he snapped. Raven looked at him blankly.

"Excuse me?"

"What else have you all decided not to tell me?"

"Nothing."

"Right," Robin said, and turned to the window again. His reflection scowled back at him. For a long while he did nothing more, then finally his gaze shifted to the reflection beside his own. Raven's eyes were already fixed on him and for several seconds the two of them watched each other in the glass. At length Robin sighed quietly. His anger had left him.

"I don't understand..." he said softly. "I don't understand how things get so screwed up."

Raven said nothing. Robin placed both his hands on the window frame and leant forward until his forehead was resting on the glass.

"It's like whenever I try to find him, everything else falls apart."

"What happened at Kings Lot?" Raven asked.

"God," Robin said, and closed his eyes. "Kilcullen had the whole precinct out."

"Where was Slade?"

"Not there. He'd set the whole thing up. How does he do it?"

"Maybe it's a good thing he wasn't there," Raven said.

"How do you figure?"

"You went there by yourself."

"Yeah?"

"Robin..." Raven paused, then moved her body around to face him. She folded her arms and lent a hip against the wall. "Robin, every attempt you've made to catch Slade in the past has failed. If he had been there today, if you'd had the opportunity to confront him, what could you have done?"

"Nice to know you have faith in me." Stung, Robin lifted his head and met the girl's gaze.

"Stop it," Raven said tonelessly. "You know that's not what I mean. Slade's intelligent and he's cunning. No one knows that better than you – and yet every time you get close to him, you abandon all reason. You're reckless. You don't think, and you put yourself and the rest of us in danger because of it."

"Great. I should have known I'd be hearing this from you as well."

"Then when are you going to start listening?"

"All I'm trying to do is catch Slade. To do that I have to play be his rules, I have to try and catch him out – "

"He's winning every time," Raven interrupted. "He knows every move you're going to make even before you do. He sets traps for you and if you keep playing his game, you're going to lose, and you don't know how high the cost might be."

"I can handle it. I know I can handle it," Robin said fervently. Raven shook her head.

"Why do you –?" She stopped suddenly and her eyes went wide.

"Raven?" Robin straightened and looked at her curiously. Raven gasped and her legs seemed to give out beneath her. Startled, Robin caught her and staggered back, struggling to keep her on her feet.

"Raven! What's wrong?"

The girl's hands alternatively gripped and slackened at Robin's shoulders. Her eyes were unfocused, but flickered from side to side as if she was trying to read something very quickly. Her breathing was shallow as she hung limply in Robin's arms.

"Snap out of it! Raven!" Robin shook her gently, terrified by the vacant expression on her face. All at once she went rigid. Black static crackled between them and Raven's fingers bit into Robin's skin through his suit. Her eyes snapped to his face.

"It's happened again," she said. There was awe in her voice that Robin had never heard before and he stared at her searchingly. The energy around her rippled and sparked, then slowly began to fade. Her breath started to come easily again and she began to blush softly. Her eyes moved only minutely now, looking first at one of Robin's eyes, then at the other. The moment gradually passed, and Raven looked away, reaching out for the wall to steady herself. Robin held her uncertainly, and then seeing that she had her balance, let go and stepped back slightly.

"Are you okay?" he breathed, shaken. Raven was staring down at the floor, apparently fighting to regain her composure. It felt like long minutes before she raised her head and looked at Robin again. He was immensely relieved to see her features returned to normal. She looked so different to how she had before, and Robin realised all at once that he hadn't seen Raven's face so completely without expression before. Despite the tight control she kept over her emotions, she'd never looked as void of feeling as she had just then. She'd looked dead.

"I'm fine," Raven said, swallowing hard.

"What happened?" Robin asked.

"Burst of energy," Raven said. "I sensed it. It was old. And strong."

"Energy?" Robin repeated. He stared at her, thinking.

"Yes," Raven said, studying him with equal intensity. "It's another one. Another of the Earthen Lord's Stones."

Chapter Text

The us-being-together-ness

Two sharp knocks sounded on the other side of the door. Robin swivelled his chair around.

"Yeah?"

"It's me," Raven's voice said.

"Come in." Robin turned back to his desk and finished typing a search into the computer. He didn't hear the door open, but in another moment Raven was at his shoulder.

"You should come upstairs," the girl said.

"Just a minute. I think I've got something," Robin murmured, leaning over the keyboard and squinting at the screen.

"Cyborg just got back with Beast Boy and Starfire."

"Of course." Robin rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. Glancing at the computer screen again, he thought the words looked suddenly foreign and bleary. He peeled the edge of his glove back from his left hand and scrutinised the wristwatch concealed beneath.

"It's late," he muttered.

"You've been down in the Bunker four hours," Raven informed him. Robin stood up and stretched. He grimaced when he heard his back click.

"How's Beast Boy?" he asked, gesturing for Raven to lead the way.

"Normal."

"And Star?"

"Cooking."

"Oh..."

"Look at this." Raven turned back abruptly and handed Robin a sheet of paper.

"What is it?" he asked. Black energy crackled around Raven and she stepped right through the door, while Robin had to pause to pull it open. Raven was waiting on the other side.

"From the Police Department database."

"I can see that," Robin said. "What were you looking for?"

"I wanted to know about Cradle Building."

Robin didn't ask her anything more and instead studied the sheet of paper for himself for several seconds.

"Donald Redfield," he said finally.

"Autopsy report."

"The guy thrown through the apartment window?"

"Yes."

"Donald Redfield." Robin repeated the name quietly.

"I want another look at this case," Raven said. They were now at the bottom of a low set of stairs, and even though Raven had the hood of her cloak back, Robin could barely make out her face in the dim light.

"I'm guessing this is about the Earthen Lord's Stones," Robin surmised.

"I've sensed two."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"No... Maybe." Raven was silent for a while and Robin handed the paper back to her.

"Alright. Look, I'll call a meeting after dinner. Let's talk about this then."

The two of them climbed to the top of the stairs, then slid aside a sheet of metal overhead that acted as a trap door. As they stepped into the common room above, the smell of frying onions hit them.

"Robin!" Starfire cried from the kitchen area, waving a wooden spoon at him. "I am so very glad to see you!"

"Hey Star." Robin smiled warmly at the girl. "Uh...what are you cooking?"

"An Earth favourite," Starfire said proudly.

"Yeah. It's called Spaghetti Bolognese. Without the meat." Cyborg turned from the fridge, his arms filled with vegetables. "I'm showin' her how it's done."

"It should be good then," Robin said tentatively. Cyborg shrugged and didn't look at him. Starfire frowned slightly, and then all at once she seemed to sense the tension between the two youths and glanced at Robin in concern.

"I'll set the table," Raven said quickly, and walked over to a low cupboard that housed the knives and forks. Robin watched her, not quite sure what to do with himself.

"So where's Beast Boy?" he asked finally.

"Right here man!" Before Robin knew what was happening, Beast Boy had dived on top of him from behind, locking his arms and legs around Robin so that the two of them almost fell over. Laughing, struggling to breathe, Robin stumbled over towards the red couch and collapsed onto the cushions, landing on his back and effectively crushing the other boy beneath him.

"Ah! You're bending my spine!" Beast Boy howled, flailing around dramatically even after Robin had shifted over onto the other seat.

"Beast Boy! You're insane," Robin sighed, and ruffled his friend's green hair. Beast Boy threw his legs across Robin's lap and sprawled out contentedly on the couch.

"Yeah, I know. I rock." The changeling grinned. "Glad that you're finally home by the way."

"Didn't think I'd moved out did you?"

"Nah. You're all better now then?"

"I think so. How are you feeling?" Robin asked, studying the other boy closely.

"Huh? What d'yah mean?" Beast Boy squirmed under his scrutiny.

"Well, you know...you went to Frank's..."

"Oh, that," Beast Boy said dismissively and yawned.

"Come on. What happened?" Robin persisted.

"It's kinda a boring story...you probably wouldn't wanna hear it..."

"Believe me, I do," Robin said, and now his tone was serious. Beast Boy caught the look in his eye and winced.

"Alright," he groaned. "Just promise not to get mad?"

"I promise," Robin said quietly and, thinking of their last conversation, he felt an immediate stab of guilt for the way he'd behaved.

"Alright," Beast Boy said again. "Well, after you'd sent me all that stuff on Andrew Lawrence and hung up on me – thanks a lot! – Star and me went and talked to these two cops – the ones who'd been sent down – and they were all like: 'hey you kids – shouldn't you be in school?' and I was all like: 'shouldn't you guys be at a doughnut store?' and they were all like –"

"But they agreed to help you?" Robin interrupted.

"Sure, after like ten minutes. Big jerks!"

"Then what happened?"

"Uh...yeah, I showed them the info on Andrew, and then I showed them the map of the house, and I told them that one of us should try to talk to him, like in that training thing we did..."

"Okay," Robin said slowly, encouraging him to go on. Beast Boy looked uneasy and drew his legs up against his chest, sitting forward so that he could see Robin properly.

"Then what happened was...um... I know it was dumb! I just thought..." Beast Boy chewed his thumbnail nervously.

"Tell me," Robin said. "I'm not going to be mad."

"What happened next was...one of the cops tried to get Andrew talking, and he walked out in front of the house...but Andrew went all crazy, and he kept yelling all this stuff, and the cop couldn't calm him down, and then – " Beast Boy's eyes went wide. "And then we heard a gunshot."

The room was silent as everyone listened. Robin kept his face closed and tried to stop any emotion from entering his voice as he asked:

"What had happened?"

"We didn't know," Beast Boy said frantically. "After that everything went quiet. I thought...I thought that he'd..."

"What did you do?"

"I was so angry!"

"What did you do?" Robin asked again. Beast Boy looked at him.

"I turned into an eagle and flew over the house. There was this garden on the other side, and a door at the back. I busted my way in, then I found the basement and I went down."

"You did not wait for me. You were most foolish!" Starfire said reproachfully.

"Alright Star!" Beast Boy cried, chagrined. "You've said that like a million times."

"What did you find in the basement?" Robin prompted. Dread was slowly filling him. His thoughts went back to the discussion he'd had with Hill those three weeks ago...

Twelve years old and seeing a dead body? That's an issue, Robin.

He stared hard at Beast Boy's face. The changeling was thirteen years old now. Still just a kid. Had he seen another dead body that morning? Had he seen the dead body of Becky Carter?

"It was really dark, so at first I couldn't see much. That's why I changed into a cat," Beast Boy explained. "Then I saw this chair, and went up close to it, and I saw it was Becky in the chair!"

"Was she okay?" Robin asked rapidly.

"Yeah, she was fine. She had some duck tape over her mouth, so I changed back into me and pulled it off, and she said, 'look out!', and...uh..."

"And what?" Robin demanded.

"Something kinda whacked me on the back of the head and...knocked me out." Beast Boy's cheeks darkened and he stared down at his knees.

"Andrew?" Robin guessed. Beast Boy nodded.

"He'd snuck up behind me with an iron bar."

"Ouch," Robin said quietly. He cleared his throat and glanced briefly back at Starfire. "So I take it you saved the day?"

"I do not believe the day was in need of saving," Starfire said with a small, confused frown. "However, I did arrive in time to disarm Andrew Lawrence before he could strike a second blow and...kick his butt?" She glanced at Cyborg uncertainly and he gave her a thumbs up.

"And Becky?" Robin asked.

"The law enforcement officers promised me that she would be looked after and returned to her parents," Starfire said happily.

"And then Star took me to see the Doc," Beast Boy said with an air of someone finishing a story. No one said anything for a while, and Robin became aware that they were all waiting to see what his reaction would be. At length, he got to his feet.

"I was going to wait until the meeting to say this," Robin said, looking at each member of his team in turn before continuing. "Today I, ah – I did something really stupid. I didn't think about what I was doing. I didn't think about the consequences. I didn't think about the responsibility I have to you guys. I just went ahead and did it. For that I'm sorry. I...I let you down. Again."

There was silence once more, and then –

"Robin? Dude! What are you talking about?" Beast Boy exclaimed, leaping up from his seat and poking his leader in the chest. "You didn't let us down!"

Robin glanced at Cyborg and felt a wave of relief when the other boy finally met his gaze.

"Yeah I did, Beast Boy."

"Uh, no you didn't! It was my fault for rushing in there alone. Like Star said –" Beast Boy put on a high, girlish voice. "–I was 'most foolish'!"

"I do not sound like that!" Starfire protested indignantly, and everyone (except Raven) laughed.

"Although I agree with Beast Boy," the young Tamaranian told Robin in earnest. "You are not to blame."

"Look Star, I'm supposed to always be there for you, and today I wasn't. You two weren't ready to get into a hostage situation. I made the mistake and it almost cost Beast Boy his life," Robin said. "All I can offer you is my apology."

"There's nothing to apologise for," Cyborg said, and Robin stared at him questioningly. "You couldn't have stopped what happened – and about earlier...I was just...you know..."

"Oh. Yeah. Well...me too," Robin said.

"Good. 'Coz you know I didn't mean..."

"No. Yeah. Neither did I."

"This is the most inarticulate conversation I've ever had to listen to," Raven grumbled.

"Yeah – what are you guys talking about?" Beast Boy scratched his head, then winced and pulled his hand away.

"Hey, are you alright?" Robin asked, concerned.

"It's fine – just got a bump on my head the size of Texas."

"What did Frank say?"

"That I had a concussion," Beast Boy snorted. "He wanted me to stay at his place."

"And Frank? How was he?" Robin wanted to know. Beast Boy narrowed his eyes.

"Why? Oh – right! You snuck out. Talk about a rebel." Beast Boy punched Robin on the arm. "Yeah, he was pissed off."

"BB!" Cyborg said warningly.

"What?" Beast Boy whined.

"Just watch it. Now, hows about we get started with this pasta," Cyborg suggested. "Before Star cremates the onions."

Once the sauce had been cooked, Cyborg mixed it into the spagetti and, grabbing up a serving spoon, dished some out for each of them. The five team mates then sat down around the table at the places Raven had set for them and ate. With the initial friction between Robin and Cyborg now gone, the atmosphere swiftly became light-hearted. It was towards the end of the meal that Beast Boy got overexcited and started coughing violently as his food went down the wrong way. Raven didn't hesitant to smack him firmly on the back.

"Ow. Okay, choking here – don't need you to beat me up as well!" Beast Boy wheezed.

"Stopped you choking." Raven arched an eyebrow and coolly sipped at her glass of water.

"Lousy Raven...always thinks she's right..." Beast Boy muttered.

"I'm sitting right next to you, you know," Raven reminded him. Beast Boy blushed and suddenly pushed his chair back and got to his feet.

"Anyway! What I was trying to say (before I almost suffocated) was that this is the first meal we've had together for...ages!"

"That's very true, BB." Cyborg nodded approvingly. Beast Boy beamed and picked up his can of soda.

"So, I think I'll make the toast!" the changeling said importantly.

Robin and Cyborg picked up their drinks and when Robin saw Starfire hesitate, he smiled and nodded for her to do the same. Raven rolled her eyes, but she held up her glass none the less.

"Okay! So – I think we should drink to..." Beast Boy made a little trumpet noise. "The us-being-together-ness!"

The others exchanged amused looks.

"To the us-being-together-ness!" they yelled, and clanked their drinks together. Starfire got a little over-enthusiastic and almost broke Raven's glass.

Once dinner was finished and the washing up had been done, the Titans trooped up the stairs to the second floor. This was the 'Girls' Floor', and the first door leading off the landing belonged to Starfire's bedroom, the second to Raven's. The next level up was, of course, the 'Boys' Floor', which was largely apparent from the mess. Beast Boy and Cyborg had their bedrooms here, although Robin's was down below in the Bunker alongside his research room.

The five friends climbed the final set of stairs to the Lantern House. Cyborg hit the lights and the room was at once brightly illuminated, although nothing would get through the tinted glass of the many large windows. Like the other floors of the building, the Lantern House was circular and a little cramped, although the broad view that the position afforded made it appear more spacious. In the centre of the room, a round indentation had been made on the floor. This was presumably where the lighthouse's lantern had once been situated, but now all that stood in its place was a table with five comfortable chairs placed around it. Everywhere about the room, monitors and computers flashed and blinked. In one corner was a low shelf with a police band radio and a set of headphones on it. Further along stood a tall filing cabinet, and beside that on the patch of wall facing inland, a massive white board had been nailed up. It was covered in scrawled writing and printed pages, cutouts of information and numerous photographs that flopped down from the frame of the board. There seemed to be some hidden method and organisation to it all, but the chaos was too great for an outsider to be certain.

"Okay," Robin said, sinking into his chair at the head of the table. "Let's get started."

"There shouldn't be too much to fill you in on," Cyborg said. He stood beside the white board and waited until everyone was seated.

"First things first: with everything that's happened today, you guys may not know that me and Raven brought in Sniper Guy this morning," Cyborg said.

"Good work!" Robin smiled. Beast Boy gave a loud whoop and Starfire clapped her hands together.

"Most glorious!" the Tamaranian cried.

"Yeah, we've been after him for long enough..." Cyborg said.

"So c'mon – who was he?" Beast Boy asked.

"Raymond Winnings," Raven said.

"What? That guy who owns the costume shop?" Beast Boy gasped.

"Yep. Gotta say though, I wasn't all that shocked," Cyborg said. "I mean, he had all that old wartime memorabilia in the back..."

"But why? Why did he wish to shoot innocent people?" Starfire asked sadly.

"You know how it is, Star. Some people are just unbalanced," Cyborg murmured. He sighed. "So Raven, you wanna finish filing this one up or should I?"

"It's already done."

"Very nice. Okay, next case..."

Cyborg swiftly ran through the list of investigations that the team had been carrying out over the last few weeks, along with a brief report on what progress they had made. When he was done, he took his seat at the end of the table and everyone's eyes shifted to Robin. This kind of focus had taken time to achieve, but these days even Beast Boy had acknowledged that there needed to be some element of professionalism to their work in order for things to run smoothly. It also helped that whenever Robin stood up he drew everyone's attention with relatively little effort. The way he conducted himself simply made the others want to listen, and whether that was due to his upbringing or his personality, Robin didn't know, but for whatever reason he was a leader.

"Let me just say, I couldn't be more impressed with the way you guys have been working. You've handled each case intelligently and efficiently – I don't think our friends at the Police Depo could have done better."

This got a general murmur of agreement from around the table.

"Alright. Now, a couple more things." Robin paused, rubbed his chin. The others could sense what he was about to say and waited expectantly.

"Slade's back," Robin said. He let the words hang in the air for a few moments before continuing. "You've all known this for a while now, and I...haven't. The important thing is, now I do. From this point on, all that matters is catching him. We need to make him our top priority. Slade's already killed over twenty people, and we don't even know what he's planning. I don't need to tell you that he's one of the most – if not the most - dangerous criminals we've come up against. We need to be at our best if we're going to beat him."

"Uh...so I'm guessing the cops didn't catch him at Kings Lot?" Beast Boy said.

"No. It was a complete bust," Robin said. "Kilcullen had all his men out, plus with a SWAT team, a bomb squad and a bunch of sharp shooters. They got zip."

"Embarrassing," Raven remarked.

"I can't blame Kilcullen," Robin said. "He thought he had all the evidence he needed. He'll have a hard time explaining it to Henderson."

"Yeah, yeah, boo-hoo," Beast Boy said boredly. "They should just leave Slade for us to deal with. He's so outta their league."

"I believe when it comes to Slade, we are in need of as much help as is available," Starfire said. Robin didn't miss the uneasy look she shot him.

"The police are going to go after Slade no matter what happens," Cyborg said. "We'll just have to keep out of each other's way and hope we get there first."

"Would it not be more sensible to...combine our efforts with theirs?" Starfire suggested.

"No," Robin said shortly. "Today I got the distinct feeling that our help's the last thing the cops want."

"Oh yeah?" Cyborg leant forward and rested his arms on the table. "What happened?"

Robin was standing behind his chair, and he picked at a loose piece of thread in the fabric without meeting Cyborg's eyes.

"It doesn't matter – "

"Oh no!" Beast Boy said loudly. "I told you about the whole getting smacked over the back of the head thing. Now spill!"

Robin sighed.

"I never meant for them to see me –"

"Who?" Cyborg asked.

"Kilcullen, Clines...any of them."

"Clines?" Raven repeated. "Isn't he that detective from the Stone Hill case?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Man, that guy is an asshole," Cyborg said.

"Why? Who is he?" Beast Boy looked around the table curiously.

"It doesn't matter," Robin said. "Just be pleased you've never met him. Anyway, I was careless, and they spotted me."

"What did you do?" Starfire asked breathlessly.

"I...had a talk to them."

"You did what?" Cyborg said.

"You? Talked to them?" Beast Boy said.

"Surprising," Raven said.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" Robin demanded. "It was the only way to find out what was going on."

"Figures," Cyborg said under his breath. Robin glanced at him sharply so he went on, "All this time we've been avoiding the cops like the plague – and now suddenly you want to have a conversation with them. Guess all it took was the right motivation."

"This was important," Robin said, choosing to ignore the dig.

"Did you acquire any helpful information?" Starfire asked.

"Kilcullen showed me a surveillance tape," Robin said, and he described the car and the masked figure that had arrived at Kings Lot. The others exchanged pensive looks.

"You know it could have been a decoy," Cyborg said.

"It probably was," Robin agreed. "Seems unlikely Slade would be doing his own dirty work. He wanted them to think he was there and he certainly wasn't there this morning. The cops found a device in the building. It had his symbol on it, so straight away they thought it was a bomb – "

"That's logical," Raven said. "Slade did just blow up a building last week."

"Turned out to be a communicator. It was voice activated." Robin paused. He didn't need to tell them that it had been programmed to recognise his voice.

"Oh man," Beast Boy muttered.

"You spoke with Slade?" Starfire said quietly. Robin nodded.

"What did he say?" Raven watched him closely, sitting very straight in her seat, and Robin felt almost overpowered by the intensity in her eyes.

"I don't know," Robin said, threading his fingers together and resting his elbows on the head of his chair. "He didn't tell me anything."

"Of course." Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "You and Slade could talk for hours and not tell each other anything!"

Robin scowled, remembering Slade's masked face, his calm, controlled manner, and his voice, smooth and quiet and self-assured...

Patience, Robin. We'll meet when I know you're ready. Until then, expect a few surprises, and by all means keep trying to find me. I do know how very much you enjoy it.

"Oh great. We've lost him," Beast Boy sighed.

"Yep. I'd give that a brood-factor of...eight," Cyborg said, watching Robin attentively.

"Eight? Man, that's a nine point five if I ever saw one!" Beast Boy argued.

"No way, BB. Check out that forehead action." Cyborg pointed. "If we were talkin' a nine point five, there would be serious stress lines goin' on."

"Nah, Cy, you don't know what you're talking about. I happen to be a master a the art of brood-reading – "

"Yeah right."

"Yeah!"

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah!"

"Fine, we're settling this the old fashioned way."

"Robin, please say something before this meeting degenerates into another arm-wrestling contest," Raven said, pressing two fingers to the side of her head. Robin blinked and looked around at them all a little sheepishly.

"Oh, right. Sorry. My mind was somewhere else."

"No kidding," Cyborg muttered.

"Nine point five," Beast Boy whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Cyborg kicked him under the table.

"Uh, but I was telling you about Kings Lot, wasn't I?" Robin said.

"Yes," Raven agreed readily. "What happened after you spoke to Slade?"

"Did you aid the police in their search?" Starfire asked. Robin laughed mirthlessly.

"After I spoke with Slade, the communicator blew up."

"Oh goodness!" Starfire covered her mouth with her hand.

"Man, Slade does that every time he talks to you," Beast Boy snorted. "He just uses it as an excuse to blow stuff up!"

"Was anyone hurt?" Cyborg asked.

"No. It was only me and Clines in the room."

"Lucky you," Raven said dryly.

"I used my cape, so we weren't hurt. But then Clines tried to arrest me."

"He does not sound like a very pleasant man," Starfire murmured.

"Like I said: asshole." Cyborg nodded.

"Why did he try to arrest you?" Raven asked.

"Oh...well, he overheard Slade mention...Red X," Robin said with difficulty. Everyone tensed slightly.

"Uh-oh," Cyborg muttered.

"It's not a problem though," Robin said hurriedly. "Shepard bailed me out. I guess she knew Henderson wouldn't be too pleased if he found out his people were trying to arrest us."

"Who's Shepard?" Beast Boy asked.

"Clines' partner," Raven said. She looked at Robin again. "That sounds strange. Why does Henderson suddenly care about us?"

"You know he's been trying to make a point of accepting us," Cyborg reminded her.

"And you were released! No harm was done," Starfire said lightly.

"That remains to be seen," Robin said. "Clines seemed to think I was working with Slade. He doesn't trust me."

"Then it's a good thing we don't need his trust," Raven said.

"All the same, it left a pretty bad taste in my mouth," Robin said.

"A bad taste? Why?" Starfire asked.

"Uh...never mind, Star," Robin said gently.

"So where do we go from here?" Cyborg asked. "I mean, how are we supposed to stop Slade when we don't even know what's he's up to?"

"There was something Kilcullen told me that I've been researching," Robin said. "The building Slade blew up belonged to the Codeys. Why blow up that building?"

"Dude, Slade's crazy," Beast Boy said.

"No. He isn't. He doesn't do anything without a reason," Robin answered quietly.

"What did the research show?" Raven asked. Robin walked around the table to a computer at the far wall. He woke up the sleeping monitor and retrieved the information he had found while working in the Bunker.

"Here. There's not a lot." Robin indicated the pages displayed on the screen and the others shifted their chairs around to get a better look.

"Slade has been dealing with the Codeys for a while, but it's unclear why. We'll need to work the streets to find out more. Shouldn't be too hard. Everyone'll still be talking about the bombing, and with any luck someone'll let something slip about Slade."

"Wait," Raven said suddenly. Everyone glanced at her. She was studying the computer screen intently. "Go back up. I just saw something."

Robin frowned. He'd read through all the information thoroughly, but he scrolled up nonetheless.

"Do you see it?" he asked. Raven's eyes continued to move back and forth across the screen, then they paused.

"I've got it," she said, and rose up out of her seat. She stepped up to the computer and pointed at the screen. "Read that."

"Uh..." Robin bent forward and studied the line above the girl's fingertip. He drew back sharply and stared at her.

"What?" Cyborg asked curiously.

"Donald Redfield," Robin said. "I knew I'd heard that name before."

"Please explain," Starfire said.

"Do any of you remember the Cradle Building case?" Robin asked.

"I remember." Starfire nodded.

"That burglary thing that ended with someone thrown through a window?" Cyborg inquired, nudging Beast Boy to make him concentrate.

"Oh, that." The younger boy yawned.

"Yeah," Robin said eagerly. "Well, Raven found out that something really valuable was stolen from Cradle Building. It was a Stone – a really old Stone."

"That's one way of describing it," Raven said.

"Just now she found out the name of the guy who'd died," Robin explained. "It was him – Donald Redfield."

"And he's just cropped up in your Slade research?" Cyborg said.

"That's a creepy kind of coincidence," Beast Boy said.

"It might not be coincidence," Robin murmured. He turned back to the computer for a moment. "It says here that Redfield was a member of the Codey gang. Now, Redfield was in Silvia Dell's apartment – we think – because he was trying to steal an Earthen Lord's Stone." Robin paused, looking at Raven. It was almost as though no time had passed and they were still in Hill's kitchen on that sunny morning debating the case.

"Something went wrong though," Raven said, taking up the story. "Somehow Redfield ended up on the sidewalk and someone else took the Stone."

"Slade?" Cyborg said incredulously.

"What would he want with some Stone?" Beast Boy asked.

"We need to find out," Robin said with certainty. From the other end of the room, the police radio began emitting shrill little chirps. Beast Boy morphed into a squirrel and launched across the table, straightening as a human beside the radio.

"I got it!" he yelled unnecessarily, and jammed the device's headphones onto his pointed ears. The other Titans waited in patient silence for several seconds until Beast Boy re-surfaced with a gleeful expression.

"Alright! Disturbance downtown! Sounds juicy."

"What kind of disturbance?" Cyborg asked. Beast Boy shrugged.

"Dunno. Who cares? This meeting's been going on forever – I need some fresh air!"

"I don't think so, BB," Cyborg said. "Remember what the Doc said? You're supposed to be resting."

"Aw! No way – c'mon! Robin? Can I go?" Beast Boy turned quickly into a cat and scampered over to sit at Robin's feet, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Robin smiled. He had become immune to Beast Boy's cat-face long ago, but he had to give the changeling credit for trying.

"Sorry Beast Boy. If Frank said you needed rest, you're not going anywhere."

The small, green cat gave a final tiny, beseeching meow. Robin folded his arms.

"Nope."

The cat's ears went back and the look on its face became decidedly unfriendly. Hissing loudly, feline-Beast Boy turned away and skulked from the room with his tail in the air.

"Is there any animal he can be that makes him more annoying?" Raven muttered.

"He does a pretty good snail," Cyborg said, getting to his feet.

"Do you guys think you can handle this thing downtown?" Robin asked. "I want to find out more about Redfield and his possible connection to Slade."

"Yeah, no problem." Cyborg stretched. "Coming, ladies?"

"Forgive me, but I am exhausted," Starfire said. "I wish to sleep for twelve Mildrobs!"

"Er...okay. Raven? You game?"

"Do you want help with the research?" Raven asked, looking at Robin for a moment.

"No. You go ahead," Robin said. He didn't want Cyborg going out alone.

"Great. We won't be long," Cyborg said. "Unless that is, I can talk Raven into catching a movie with me after?"

Raven pulled up the hood of her cloak.

"We won't be long."

"Robin! Wake up!" Cyborg shook the other boy's shoulder roughly.

"What? Cyborg?" Robin groaned drowsily. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He'd fallen asleep at the computer in the Lantern House. There was smudged ink on his cheek where he'd been lying on a newspaper cutting.

"What's going on?" Robin said. Cyborg was pacing up and down in front of his chair and Raven was standing close by with a tight look on her face. Neither of them seemed to want to answer him.

"Where've you been?" Robin asked, struggling to wake up fully.

"You know where we've been – we've been downtown. Remember? The call on the radio?" Cyborg said, and he was speaking very fast. His eyes kept darting to Robin's face as if to make sure he was listening.

"Oh. Right." Robin fought off a yawn. "How did it go?"

"You know how it went!" Cyborg yelled.

"He doesn't know," Raven said sharply. "Stop shouting."

"What happened?" Robin asked. He sat forward in his chair now, blinking a few times to get his eyes to focus.

"I can't believe this," Cyborg said through his teeth. He threw Robin another strange look and shook his head.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Robin said, standing up because he felt uneasy sitting down.

"Where've you been tonight?" Cyborg demanded, finally pausing in front of Robin and grabbing his arms. Baffled, it took Robin a few seconds to reply.

"I've been up here," he said slowly. Cyborg looked furious and his grip tightened on Robin.

"The whole time? You've been up here the whole time?"

"Yes! Why do you keep asking me?"

"I need you to tell me the truth, Robin," Cyborg said, his voice low with warning.

"He is telling the truth," Raven said shortly.

"No he's not," Cyborg growled. Robin looked first to him, then to Raven, utterly bemused.

"I don't know what either of you are talking about."

"Yes you do!" Cyborg shouted. "Stop lying – we saw you!"

"You're hurting me!" Robin cried. Cyborg stared at him hard for a moment, then let go of his arms. Frustrated, stung, Robin waited for one of them to explain. When the pause lasted too long, he yelled:

"Someone talk to me!"

"The disturbance downtown," Raven said at last, stepping closer. "It was...strange."

"Strange? Strange how?" Robin demanded. Cyborg seemed to have calmed down slightly and was massaging his forehead. When he looked at Robin again, there wasn't so much open accusation in his eyes, and his voice was quiet and controlled when he spoke.

"Strange as in the disturbance was Red X."

Robin didn't move for several seconds. Finally, disbelieving, he cocked his head.

"What?"

"When we arrived downtown, we saw some cops chasing a figure – someone dressed as Red X." Raven explained. Robin found himself suddenly sitting down again.

"Someone dressed as Red X?" he breathed. "Who?"

"That's what we were wondering," Cyborg muttered. Robin looked at him sharply.

"You think – you think I..." Robin's voice seemed to fail him and he couldn't finish the sentence.

"No. We don't think it was you," Raven said with certainty.

"The fact is, we can't be sure," Cyborg argued. Robin stood up again, anger making his throat burnt.

"Yes you can! I told you – I've been here all night!"

"Cyborg, I know that wasn't Robin," Raven said. Cyborg glanced at her.

"How?"

"I sensed magic in the person we saw," the girl said.

"Magic?" Cyborg repeated.

"Yes."

"And that's good enough for you?"

"Yes," Raven said. Cyborg didn't say anything for a while, then slowly he nodded.

"Okay."

"Great. I'm glad we've come to a decision," Robin spat. "You really thought it was me? I mean..." Again he ran out of words and stood there not looking at either of them.

"Robin..." Cyborg began, but his leader cut him off.

"No. Forget it. I shouldn't be so surprised that you don't trust me." Robin turned to Raven. "So do you know who this new Red X was?"

"No, I've never sensed them before."

"What were they doing? Why were the cops after them?" Robin asked.

"We don't know," Raven said.

"We followed them," Cyborg said. "Managed to cut them off down an alleyway, but then this huge guy showed up and started fighting with us. He must've been a ninja or something – I couldn't get hold of him."

"By the time he left, Red X was gone," Raven added.

"Then they were working together," Robin murmured. Cyborg nodded.

"Looks that way."

"Why would anyone try to pose as Red X?" Robin asked nobody in particular.

"There's something else," Raven said. Robin glanced at her expectantly. "That man we were fighting – he was wearing some sort of armour."

"Yeah. It was weird," Cyborg muttered.

"I tried to use my powers to lift him off the ground, and something came away from him." Raven paused and drew something out from beneath her cloak. She forced Robin to meet her eye again.

"This was lodged in his armour." Raven opened her hand.

Robin felt the breath leave him.

In Raven's palm was a batarang.

Chapter Text

Prime Suspect

The chairs outside Captain Roger Kilcullen's office were extremely uncomfortable. Detective Ellen Shepard had come to this conclusion after only ten minutes of being made to wait. She glanced at her watch. Yes, still only ten minutes. She longed for her morning mug of coffee. What was Kilcullen doing in there that was taking so long?

At that moment the door of the captain's office was thrown open, and a short man in a black jacket stormed out of the room, muttering loudly under his breath.

"'Morning, Barrow," Shepard said. Barrow glared at her.

"Goddam Kilcullen! What does he think? I can just give him overnight results? Christ!"

"You having trouble with a case?"

"I'm through with the case," Barrow fumed. His cheeks were red and his lips were twisted into a scowl. Shepard had never seen him so angry before.

"Well hey, why don't you try asking the captain for more time?"

"I did! But would he gonna give it to me? No! It's madness – goddam madness! What am I, a miracle worker? Huh? Am I?" Barrow wasn't looking at Shepard as he said any of this, so she was unsure whether or not to respond.

"Ah, the hell with it!" Barrow snarled, as he took off down the corridor. Shepard stared after him silently. She then glanced at the door of Kilcullen's office and then down at her watch. She was beginning to feel nervous. Where the hell was Clines? Was it really so hard to arrive anywhere on time? Shepard's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked up, her expression already set reproachfully.

"I know, I know," Clines panted, collapsing into the seat beside his partner. He was unshaven and dressed in his usual black trousers and white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his .38 Smith & Wesson clearly visible in his shoulder holster. Shepard swept her eyes over her partner's uncombed hair and weary expression and frowned.

"Do you even own a clock?"

"Yes I own a clock. Carol just threw it against the wall yesterday."

"God, Vinnie. Are you two still fighting?"

"When are we ever not fighting?" Clines grumbled.

"Just try a little harder to be on time, okay?"

"I'm not late on purpose."

"You shouldn't be late at all!" Shepard snapped. Clines stared at her for a moment, then sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

"What bit you on the ass?"

"Nothing, I just...what does the captain want us for anyway? We saw him yesterday."

"Can't be anything new," Clines said thoughtfully. "Our caseload's already nuts."

"I need my coffee," Shepard groaned. Clines gave her a slight nudge. The door of Kilcullen's office opened again. The captain himself stuck his head out and looked the detectives over briefly. He was holding a phone against his ear.

"Shepard, Clines – you two having a picnic out here? Get your asses in!" He growled, and disappeared back around the door. Clines and Shepard exchanged exasperated looks as they stood and went into the captain's office. The two detectives had to lift their feet carefully over the curly phone cord that Kilcullen was trailing behind him before they could reach their seats in front of his desk. Shepard lowered herself into one of the chairs with relief – they were somewhat more comfortable than the ones outside.

"...Alright...you're sure...right...right..." Kilcullen said into the phone, nodding his head. He went to stand before the room's tall windows, overlooking the broad steps of the precinct and the rest of the street below. He rapped his knuckles on the glass and nodded again.

"Fine. Keep on top of it." The captain turned back to his desk and put the phone down. He lowered himself into his chair and finally devoted his full attention to his guests. "Good morning, Detectives."

Clines and Shepard nodded politely.

"I've found something I think you two may want to take a look at," Kilcullen went on. Clines and Shepard shifted a little in their seats. They could smell a new case from a mile off.

"Uh, listen, Sir, not to sound ungrateful or anything, but we've really got enough on our plate at the moment," Clines said. Kilcullen looked at him like a bull would look at a red rag.

"Is that a fact, Clines? Well, my heart's just breakin' for you. All the same, why don't you hear me out before you start trying to feed me your sob story?"

"Yes Sir."

"Robbery, last night," Kilcullen said, placing one fisted hand into the palm of another and resting his large chin atop his sizeable knuckles. He watched the two detectives shrewdly as he went on: "City Museum was broken into."

When it looked as though the captain would reveal no more, Shepard leant forward and asked:

"What was stolen?"

Kilcullen seemed to smile, although his smile was rather similar to his frown, so it was difficult to be certain.

"Nothing," he said. Shepard blinked.

"So...there was a robbery, but nothing was stolen?"

"That's right," the captain said.

"Thief was caught in the act?" Clines concluded. Kilcullen chuckled.

"They weren't caught at all...now, as you two may already know, that museum has some of the best security systems in Jump – very sophisticated stuff. We're talking lasers, motion sensors, sound detectors..."

"Cameras?" Clines added.

"Of course. So, now we get to the good bit. Our thief slips into the museum control room, takes out the guards, hacks the security, goes into the museum, takes out some more guards, has a nice long tour of the place, gets interrupted by an alarm goin' off, and heads for the hills before the uniforms arrive."

"An alarm? How'd that happen? Thought this guy'd hacked the security," Clines said.

"This is the thing – he took all the security offline but he missed some cameras and the backup alarm."

"Some cameras?" Shepard repeated. "So, what? He taped himself breaking into a museum? This guy's either really stupid or really cocky."

"So who hit the alarm?" Clines asked curiously.

"We don't know," Kilcullen said. He allowed the detectives several seconds to mull over all this before going on: "The thief got away, but only by the skin of his teeth. Squad cars were chasing him for half the night."

"And then?" Shepard said.

"Then he disappeared."

"This guy sounds like a regular little magician," Clines snorted.

"All the magic was caught on camera." Shepard reminded him. She turned to Kilcullen. "Did the tapes tell you anything?"

"Oh yes." Kilcullen sounded like he was enjoying himself. Clines rolled his eyes.

"Alright Sir, we've heard the story – and I can't say it doesn't sound like an interesting case, but really, our caseload is just –"

"What would you say if I told you our thief was Red X?"

Clines' mouth hung open for a long moment. His hands tightened on the armrests of his chair.

"Say that again."

"I don't need to, Clines," Kilcullen growled in amusement. "It's your guy. Now try telling me you don't want this case."

"Oh, you have no idea." Clines was on his feet, pushing a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly, a half-smile on his lips and a bright spark in his eyes. Anxiously, Shepard abandoned her seat as well.

"Vinnie..." She said slowly, quietly. Clines smiled broadly at her.

"Not this time, El. There's nothing you can say..." Clines laughed sharply and cracked his hands together. "This is it. This is it!"

"God, please don't start this again," Shepard muttered, throwing a helpless look at Kilcullen.

"Something I don't know about here, kids?" the captain said, his alert little eyes darting between the detectives.

"Sir, this is going to knock the wind outta you!" Clines grinned, stepping eagerly up to the Captain's desk.

"Vinnie, no! C'mon, we need to talk about this first," Shepard said, dismayed.

"So let's talk about it." Clines looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "Red X! I thought you'd learned your lesson..."

"Somebody start talking. Now!" Kilcullen ordered. Clines raised his eyebrows at Shepard, challenging her to argue. The woman's lips thinned in displeasure but she said nothing. Satisfied, Clines looked back at Kilcullen.

"I worked the Red X case a couple months ago," he began. Kilcullen reclined back in his chair.

"Yeah Clines, that had something to do with why I booted Barrow off the case and gave it to you."

"Barrow? Well, whatever – everyone knows I've been after this Red X guy for longer than I care to think about. The case went cold after X took a holiday and the computer companies mysteriously recovered their stolen information."

"Sure. I remember," Kilcullen said.

"But very recently I found out who Red X is!" Clines was drawing this out for all it was worth. Kilcullen's chair clanked as he sat forward sharply.

"Clines! How long have you known? Why the hell didn't you re-open the case?"

"Because Sir, Red X is Robin."

The frankly stunned look on Kilcullen's face was almost enough to make Clines laugh again, but he kept cautiously quiet, studying his captain warily. The silence in the office was piercing, and finally Shepard burst out –

"Sir, this is just impossible!"

"Trust me, I'm having a little difficulty believing it myself," Kilcullen muttered.

"Difficulty? Why?" Clines demanded, his disappointment clear. "This isn't that big-a stretch. Only a year ago these damn kids were criminals!"

"And now they're heroes," Shepard said. Clines stared at her in amazement.

"El, I know you think you need to protect them, but they are criminals –"

"No they're not!"

"Why is this so hard for you to see? Just because they have these little powers doesn't mean they're perfect upstanding citizens. It's the total opposite! They've got no parental guidance – they've probably had no formal education – they're a gang of children for Christsakes! And children with control over this city. I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened sooner. Robin already thinks he's some kind of god, strutting around Jump like he owns the place –"

"Listen to yourself, Vinnie! You're making this personal."

"So what if I am? These kids have no respect for the law!"

"For the law or for you?" Shepard snapped. "The Titans have saved Jump from destruction countless times. They're trying to help us!"

"Breaking into the city's museum is helping us?"

"That wasn't Robin. That couldn't have been –"

"Why not?"

"Alright!" Kilcullen roared, effectively ending the argument. He glared at either detective in turn as he spoke, slowly and deliberately. "Tell me how you know Robin is X."

"The transmission from Slade yesterday," Clines said. "I heard Slade say that Robin had worked for him under the guise of Red X – Robin admitted it to me himself!"

"And you're sure he was responsible for the thefts from those computer companies?"

"Yes Sir. He actually asked if Slade had more errands for him to run."

"Sir, the information was recovered," Shepard said. "No harm was done!"

"You're condoning this?" Clines muttered. Shepard glanced at him heatedly.

"I just think you're jumping to conclusions! Let's look at this objectively. Slade and Robin have a conversation at Kings Lot yesterday, Slade sees you in the room and conveniently mentions Red X. What does that prove? Slade then sets off a bomb – which nearly kills Robin and you, incidentally Then that very night, Red X makes a reappearance – on camera – after months of inactivity! Can't you see Slade's setting this up like a house of cards?"

"All I see is that Robin has admitted he's Red X, he's obviously getting his orders from Slade, he's committed thefts in the past, and last night he thought he'd just rub out noses in it by letting us watch it on video! He thinks we won't touch him because he's got this reputation as a 'hero'!" Clines yelled.

"Why would he be working for Slade?" Shepard asked. "He's a good kid. If what I hear's true, he's actually the only person to ever come close to catching Slade!"

"Fine, fine." Clines hissed, rubbing his head, thinking. "Okay. So, Robin's the good guy. He's just trying to help people, he's only ever had the best intentions in mind, but then he sees Slade. Maybe he was trying to catch him – in the beginning – but then Slade sweet talks him, gets him under a spell – who knows? Even the Titans have strange powers or whatever – we've all seen them! So, Slade somehow bewitches Robin! The kid's under his control – I even heard Robin say Slade had manipulated him! What's to say Robin hasn't stolen for Slade, done whatever he wants under some kind of magic spell! Captain, we need to find Robin – if only to save the poor kid! He needs our help now!"

"You sure know how to sell this stuff, Clines." Kilcullen muttered. He scowled. "What do you make of all this now, Shepard?"

Clines looked at his partner imploringly. Shepard folded her arms.

"I think..." The young woman sighed. "I think we need to talk to Robin. And that could be as hard as finding Red X."

"Not any more." Clines smirked. "The city has a handle on him now. All we need is a word with Doctor Frank Hill."

Chapter Text

The Case of the Unopened Case

"A what?"

"A batarang."

"I don't believe it!"

"You know what this means, right?"

"Er..."

"Okay, I'll spell it out – batarang. Batarang. As in, bat?"

"Oh!"

"You still don't get it, do you?"

"Nope."

"Okay." Cyborg pinched two fingers to the bridge of his nose for a few seconds before speaking again. "Last night, me and Raven found a batarang on this guy. Now, as far as I know, there's only one person who uses that specific weapon."

Beast Boy gasped in horror.

"Robin!"

"No," Cyborg groaned. Beast Boy reddened.

"Well who then?"

"Batman!"

"Oh...okay," Beast Boy said uncertainly. He frowned. "But, dude, why would Batman be fighting you and Raven down some dark alleyway? And why would he be helping fake-Red X?"

"I'm not sure, BB," Cyborg muttered. "Look, it was really dark anyway – even Raven wasn't sure who the guy was. And what's one batarang? It could have been on him for any number of reasons."

"It doesn't mean anything," Beast Boy agreed.

"Yeah." Cyborg nodded. There was a pause and the two youths sat in silence on the public bench, watching the people walk by and avoiding each other's eyes. Finally, because it was the only thing they could do, they glanced at each again.

"It doesn't mean anything," Cyborg repeated.

"Sure...absolutely no meaning. Whatsoever," Beast Boy said hurriedly. "Besides, Robin'd tell us if anything was going on, right?"

"Right," Cyborg said readily.

"And I mean, Batman would never –" Beast Boy squeaked sharply and shot up from the bench. Cyborg raised his head and winced inwardly as he saw what had startled the younger boy.

"Batman would never what?" Robin stood on the sidewalk in front of them, his arms folded and his face inscrutable. Neither Cyborg nor Beast Boy knew what to say. They stared at their leader uncomfortably. All around them were loud college students and shoppers and tourists and mothers with wailing babies, yet somehow it felt like just the three of them, and the silence was deafening.

"We're going into the museum," Robin said finally, coldly.

"Are we doing anything about the gang violence on Madison?" Cyborg asked, getting slowly to his feet.

"Do you want to take it?" Robin said. Cyborg shrugged.

"Alright...I did kinda want a piece of this case, though..."

"Either stay or go. I can get someone else to do it."

"I'll go then."

"Fine." Robin began to turn away, but halted when he felt Beast Boy tug hesitantly on his cape.

"So what about me? Am I working Madison too?"

"No." Robin fixed him with a pointed look. "You're with me today."

Beast Boy didn't argue.

"Take Starfire to Madison," Robin told Cyborg, then stepped down off the sidewalk and strode across the street. He knew the other boys would follow him at a cautious distance. They were aware of his mood now, and for that Robin was both annoyed and thankful.

The day had started badly. The sky was blotchy and overcast and the air was close and muggy. Robin had caught only a couple hours sleep early that morning and he'd woken up with a dull pain behind his eyes. He found he couldn't concentrate on anything and, try as he might, there was simply no shaking the lingering feeling of trepidation that had settled in his stomach the night before. His mind was crowded now. There was no room to worry about the team's morale. There was no room to worry about the looks Cyborg kept giving him, or the constantly anxious tone that Starfire now addressed him in, or the way Beast Boy had hardly said two words to him all morning, or the way Raven...no, Raven was one person he didn't need to worry about.

Across the street stood the City Museum. It was one of the grandest and oldest buildings in Jump. Its walls were constructed mostly of hard, grey stone, and at the top of the broad steps that led to the entrance were six great pillars of granite, between them bearing the weight of the building's mighty roof. All around were fluttering posters and banners colourfully advertising the many attractions, which the museum had to offer. It was a popular spot for tourists as well as locals, and as a result the steps were packed with people making their way towards the building's large wooden doors. Robin knew he was drawing a lot of stares as he made his way impatiently through the crowd. People pointed and shouted – someone tried to talk to him, but Robin pretended not to notice. This kind of attention made him nervous. He felt exposed, vulnerable. His mouth set in a determined frown and he shouldered his way through the open doors of the museum and into the lobby. To the right of the doors was a busy-looking ticket and information desk. Wary and embarrassed, Robin got in the queue with everyone else. As he neared the front, an attendant caught sight of him, and with a faintly amused expression, gestured for him to keep walking. Robin was relieved. He hadn't brought money to buy a ticket.

Past the desk was a large, round room with the cool white walls and reverently muted air of a gallery. On either side of the room were ornate marble staircases leading up to the next level of the building, and high above was a magnificent glass dome, its splendour somewhat lessened by the dreary press of clouds overhead. There was a small café and a gift shop. The floor shone from recent waxing and Robin's footsteps echoed pleasantly as he made his way towards a circle of stone benches in the middle of the room. Covering the surrounding walls were sculptures, paintings, tall glass display cases, and large signs offering visitors information or directions. Robin was happy to note that the raucous bustle of people from outside seemed to settle down in this environment and disperse into the museum's far reaches.

"Robin – you have located and retrieved Cyborg and Beast Boy?"

Robin looked up at the sound of Starfire's voice and quickly made his way over to where she and Raven standing beside the benches.

"They're coming now," Robin answered, pausing next to the two girls. He glanced quickly at Raven and saw that she had the hood of her cloak up again. Her arms folded stiffly across her chest and her lips pressed into a distasteful line as she studied the activity around her. Starfire on the other hand was bubbling with curiosity, her head constantly turning this way and that as she tried to take in everything at once. The Tamaranian had visited the City Museum earlier that year, although many of the exhibits had changed since then, and as always she was eager to learn more about Earth's past. Robin felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that he'd soon be sending her off on another case. He shook his head slightly and hardened himself. They were here to work, weren't they?

"Here they are," Robin said. Beast Boy and Cyborg were fighting their way through the doors towards the ticket desk. They seemed to get the same reaction from the attendant as Robin had, and were soon hurrying towards them.

"Have you guys seen this? They're showing an exhibit with fossilised poop!" Beast Boy exclaimed, waving around a museum pamphlet that he had at some point acquired.

"Let's just concentrate on the investigation," Robin said sternly. Beast Boy's ears drooped a little.

"How about after? If we have time...?"

"We'll see," Robin said. "Okay, Cyborg, Star – you're going down to Madison to sort out last night's beatings. Remember: use the cops if you can. If not, make sure it's quick and clean. Don't hang around. But be careful – if it's in Madison the Codeys will be involved."

"We will do our best," Starfire sighed softly.

"Yeah. See you guys soon," Cyborg said, and turned away. Starfire cast a final, wistful look around before following the boy back the way he had come.

"Alright you two," Robin said, motioning Beast Boy and Raven to come closer. "We need to find out what Red X was doing here last night."

"D'yah think we can call him 'fake-Red X'?" Beast Boy asked. "It's kinda confusing otherwise."

"Fine," Robin said shortly, glancing around, doing a quick sweep for security devices and museum staff.

"How do we know fake-Red X was even here?" Beast Boy persisted.

"It was on the news," Raven said. Like Robin, her eyes were sifting through the crowds, searching for anything out of the ordinary.

"But nothing was stolen," Beast Boy said. "Who breaks in and doesn't even take anything? What kind of dumb ass would you need to be to do that? This guy must be the biggest loser in the world."

"Please stop talking," Raven said. Beast Boy ignored her.

"Seriously, whoever this fake-Red X wanna-be is, they're no way as good at it as you were, Robin," Beast Boy said. His leader looked at him sharply and the changeling laughed nervously. "Uh...that was meant to be a compliment..."

"Let's try and find whoever's in charge," Robin said, changing the subject. "Maybe they can tell us exactly what happened."

It didn't take long for them to find a security guard willing to tell them how to find the museum's curator. Following the man's directions, Robin, Raven, and Beast Boy then took the left-hand set of stairs up onto the next floor and cut a quick path through a spacious room that was occupied with an exhibit on ancient forms of writing.

"'Ancient forms of writing'? Who comes up with this stuff?" Beast Boy complained loudly. "It's so boring."

"Whereas fossilised excretion just has that touch of class," Raven commented dryly, nodding at the pamphlet still in Beast Boy's hand.

"Come on guys, we're nearly there," Robin called back. They hastened down a narrow corridor and then into another room, smaller than the last, its walls filled with richly coloured paintings in thick, decorative frames. At the other end of the room was a guard who sat reading a newspaper, and behind her were a tall set of oak doors.

"That looks like the curator's office," Robin murmured. He led the way across the room and halted in front of the guard.

"Hello," Robin began, "we're trying to find –"

"It's on the ground floor, sweetheart. First door on the left, you can't miss it," the woman said, not looking up from her paper. Beast Boy sniggered behind his hand.

"Actually, we're looking for the curator," Robin said.

"Hm?" the guard finally glanced up. Her lips twitched as she registered their costumes. "Hold on now, is that Robin?"

"Yes," Robin said wearily.

"Robin of the Titans? The kid superhero? So then you must be Raven, right?" The woman pointed excitedly. Raven didn't respond.

"And you're...uh...give me a minute, it'll come to me..." The woman frowned at Beast Boy. "No, it's gone."

"Beast Boy! It's Beast Boy!"

"Oh yeah." The woman chuckled. "I remember now."

"Great. Can we see the curator?" Robin asked rapidly.

"You kids wanna see Mister Green?"

"Yes."

"What ever for?"

"It's important," Robin said evasively. The guard gave a snort of amusement.

"Oh wait, don't tell me – are you trying to catch the bad guy who broke in last night? That is so cute!"

"Hey lady, we are not cute!" Beast Boy said heatedly, then paused. "Well, maybe I am. But only a little!"

"Could you just see if Mister Green will talk to us?" Robin asked.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." The woman smiled and tilted her head in a way that didn't make her look sorry at all – but rather like she was crooning at a small baby. "But Mister Green is a very busy man. His job is really important round here."

"And we won't take up a lot of his time," Robin said through his teeth. He felt Raven's elbow nudge him gently and he took a few deep breaths before speaking again. "We'd appreciate it if you could just tell him we're here."

The guard continued to stare at them and smile, and then finally she sighed and got to her feet.

"Well...I'm sure it wouldn't do any harm," she said. "You three just hold on here and I'll have a word, okay?"

"Thanks." Robin forced a smile. This was almost worse than dealing with the cops.

The guard turned and rapped her knuckles lightly on one of the doors. The sound echoed around the room hollowly. After several seconds a muffled voice called from the other side of the door. The woman threw one last sickly-sweet look over her shoulder, then pushed a door open and popped her head inside. Robin could hear everything she said:

"Mister Green? There're some little folks out here who'd like to have a word."

"Very well, Pam. Send them in," an exhausted-sounding voice replied. The guard pushed the door fully open and waved Robin, Raven and Beast Boy in.

"No need to thank me, darlin's!" she giggled. Robin gripped Beast Boy's shoulder tightly to keep him from saying anything.

The door closed behind them, and they found themselves stood in an office about twice the size of Doctor Hill's study. There were two windows on the back wall and a tall bookshelf on the right. There was also a large and rather battered trunk on the floor, a large set of drawers, and a desk heaped in papers and books and various other knick-knacks. All about the room, artefacts, large and small, were scattered along on every available surface in no apparent order. Nailed up on the left-hand wall were framed pictures and photographs as well as several African masks. The office smelt like a charity shop.

"What's all this about then?" that same worn-out voice asked. It came from a man who was seated in a large leather chair behind the overcrowded desk. Robin took a few steps forward and noticed that on the desk was a small gold plate with the name 'Reginald S. Green' inscribed on it.

"Mister Green?" Robin said. The leather chair creaked as the man sat forward. He was forty or thereabouts, bald and thin, with large hands, and a small, pointed beard on his chin. His eyes were watery blue as he regarded Robin uncertainly.

"Yes?"

"Hello. I'm Robin. This is Raven, and that's Beast Boy," Robin said. Green stared at them unblinkingly for several long moments, then abruptly started laughing.

"You – you're those teenage superheroes, aren't you? I do – I do like your costumes!" Green smiled broadly for a while longer before sobering. "What can I do for you?"

"We're interested in the attempted robbery that took place last night," Robin said. Green raised his eyebrows.

"Oh you are, are you? Well, I'm afraid the police beat you to it, kids! I've already gone through the whole procedure...even spoke with the Gotham police as well."

"The Gotham police?" Robin repeated. "Why would they be involved?"

"It appears that the Gotham museum was also burgled last night. Although their alarm wasn't triggered."

"Really?" Robin cleared his throat, trying to remain neutral. "What was stolen?"

"That's the strange thing. Nothing obvious. At the moment they're having to do a complete stock check on the exhibits to see if anything is actually missing."

"Well... it would help us a great deal if you could answer some questions," Robin said.

Green sighed tiredly. He folded his arms and lent forward on his desk, carelessly crushing papers beneath him. "I'm sorry, kids. I really am too busy."

"This won't take long," Robin assured him hurriedly. Green didn't look convinced. Robin blew out his cheeks. He was starting to lose his patience with these people. Flustered, he glanced at Raven for support, only to find that the girl had wandered over towards the bookshelf and was bending down to look at the dusty volumes.

"What are you up to over there? Raven, is it?" Green asked curiously, following the direction of Robin's gaze. Raven looked up and fixed the curator with a bluntly withering look.

"You have a lot of books," she commented.

"Oh...oh, well yes, I suppose I have accumulated quite a collection over time," Green mumbled, taken aback by the girl's severity.

"You read 'em all?" Beast Boy asked and, not waiting for Green's response, he transformed into a cockatoo and flapped across the room to perch on one of the higher shelves.

"Good lord!" Green exclaimed, jumping to his feet and recoiling slightly. Cockatoo-Beast Boy squawked softly and cracked his beak together.

"Don't mind Beast Boy," Robin said casually, privately amused by the curator's reaction. "Now Mister Green, please would you answer our questions?"

"I – yes! Of course!" Green spluttered, his eyes wide and fixed on Beast Boy. The expression on his face was a mixture between horror and fascination. "As long as you keep it short."

"Alright. Can you tell me what happened last night?"

"Well – uh – let me see...we closed everything up as usual," Green said. "All of our security was working. It happened just after midnight. Red X – do you know who that is?"

"Yes," Robin said quietly.

"Well, this Red X fellow somehow managed to take all of our alarms off line. He then broke in and attacked several guards – used some kind of knock-out gas. Then he went for room to room, through every exhibit. He was looking for something –"

"How do you know all this?" Robin asked.

"I forgot to mention – Red X left quite a few of the cameras on accidentally. They filmed him right up until the alarm was set off."

"Alarm?"

"He left that on too," Green explained.

"I see. So you said X was looking for something?"

"It seemed that way – and there's only one thing I can image he'd be after." Green nodded with certainty.

"What would that be?" Robin asked.

"Why, the Aurora Diamond of course. It's virtually priceless – the pride of our Egyptology section. We had it under our highest level of security," Green said, and stuck out his chest a little.

"But X didn't steal the diamond?"

"No. It's all on the tape. Just as he was approaching the case – and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him do that – the alarm went off. Saved my museum, that alarm did." Green stroked his bald head as if to comfort himself.

"Okay," Robin said quietly. "Could we have a look at those tapes?"

"The police have them."

"Oh." Robin frowned. "What about that diamond? Is it still on display?"

"God no," Green laughed weakly. "We've had to lock it up in the museum vault. It's just too rare to be out in the open."

"Oh," Robin said again. He rubbed his chin, silent for a moment. At length he asked, "What did Red X look like? Were there any defining features of gestures you picked out?"

"Let me see...he wasn't a tall fellow. No. Probably even about your height, I'd say." Green squinted at Robin. "And he was wearing that mask of his. Covered his face. And he has that cape as well. I really couldn't see any skin, nothing defining. No...I can't think of anything."

"Mister Green," Raven said suddenly. Green gripped the head of his chair nervously.

"Ah – y-yes?"

"This tray. Where is it from?" Raven asked. She was now standing beside a low trunk, holding up a plastic tray. Green inclined his head and scrutinized the tray's contents before shrugging.

"Oh yes, those. They're all rather worthless – they were in the same display case as the Aurora Diamond, quite a ridiculous arrangement now that I think of it – putting those muddy things next to such perfection..." Green's eyes glazed a little.

"What are you going to do with them?" Raven asked.

"Hm? Oh, I was in the middle of sending them away to storage. As I said, they really aren't very interesting," Green answered with an air of disdain.

"Sending them away..." Raven said, and her voice was so low that Robin had to strain to hear. Raven continued to hold the tray, staring at it intently, then abruptly she turned to face Green's desk. On the floor was a metal waste-paper basket. Raven crouched down in front of it and started picking through paper and rubbish.

"Raven?" Robin said. Green stared on in bemusement. The girl didn't look at either of them. Robin watched her shoulders move beneath her cloak as she rifled through the basket, then finally still as she sat back on her heels. Beast Boy fluttered from the bookshelf to Robin's shoulder and chirped in curiosity.

Raven stood. She was holding something in her hand, and Robin's mind went involuntarily back to the previous night when she'd showed him the batarang. It was with some uneasiness that he stepped forward to see what she had found.

"Mister Green..." Raven said. "What is this?"

Green's interest overcame his apprehension, and like Robin he moved closer to get a good look.

"That thing! Oh, my dear girl, don't trouble yourself. It's completely worthless. Not even as good as those other pieces," the curator chuckled dismissively. Robin touched Raven's arm, and the girl turned to him, her skin pale and her eyes uncharacteristically expressive. She raised her hand and Robin stared down at what she held in wonder.

"Do you have any need for this?" Raven asked quietly, glancing back at Green. The curator frowned.

"No. No, I don't believe I do...but why would you –"

"Just a project," Raven said. Green stared at her, then nodded. Her explanation seemed as good as any.

"Take it, by all means. I must warn you though, it's a blatant forgery. Although you're not the first person to ask about it actually. There's been a fair bit of interest in that piece lately. Now who was it that was asking me about it? Some unsavoury fellow. What was his name? Rodey? Damien Rodey?"

"Damien Codey?" Robin asked sharply.

"Yes! That's the man. Isn't he connected with some sort of street gang? Well, anyway, he was asking all sorts of questions about that artefact. I told him it was copy of course –"

"Do you think we could have it then?" Robin asked. Green blinked.

"I doubt you'll want that. You'd be better off with one of these other pieces –"

"No," Raven said. She looked back at Robin and their gazes locked. The boy nodded and suddenly held out his hand to Green.

"I'm afraid we've taken up too much of your time already, Mister Green," Robin said smoothly. Green looked faintly perplexed, but took the youth's hand regardless.

"Oh. Well, it was really no trouble...I always have time for my next generation of customers."

"Yes. Thanks again," Robin said, and ushered Raven towards the door. Around his neck now as a grass snake, Beast Boy squirmed in confusion.

"We have to go," Robin whispered, and the snake settled. Raven, still cradling her find, pushed open the office door with her free hand and hastened out into the room beyond.

"Did you kids have a nice talk with the boss then?" the guard asked in a self-satisfied way. Robin only nodded, placing a hand to the small of Raven's back to make her walk faster. They said nothing as they strode through the museum, down the corridor and back through the ancient writings exhibit, and then down the stairs and out past the ticket desk.

Outside it was starting to rain, but Robin barely noticed. He and Raven walked swiftly to stand behind one of the giant granite pillars. They stared at each other; their disbelief reflected in each other's eyes.

"Are you sure?" Robin breathed at last. Raven only nodded her head once.

"What the heck's goin on?" Beast Boy demanded, returned to human form and looking back and forth at his two friends. Robin swallowed and met his gaze.

"I think Raven found..." He trailed off and shook his head.

"What? What did you find?" Beast Boy demanded. He looked down at Raven's hand where the girl's fingers were clasped rigidly over something oval and black. Raven took a slow breath before answering him.

"I found an Earthen Lord's Stone."

Chapter Text

Medical Consultation

Hill sighed, his breath buffeting the steam that rose from his coffee.

"Will you talk to me about it?" asked Claire Singer, who stood on the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

Hill glanced at her.

"About what?"

"Frank." Claire smiled. "I know something's bothering you."

Hill put down his coffee mug and stared at it for several moments. Claire waited silently, sipping unhurriedly at her own cup of Earl Grey. At last Hill looked at her again.

"It's about these kids."

"The Titans." Claire lowered her cup and watched Hill closely. "Does this mean we can talk about them?"

"Of course we can talk about them."

"I thought it would be a delicate subject..."

"It is. If you're expecting gossip –"

"I'm not."

"I'm sorry. I know you're not," Hill murmured. He rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. "Nothing's bothering me as such...it's just the whole situation."

"Well tell me about the Titans. Who are they? What are they like?"

"They're normal kids, Claire." Hill looked at the woman earnestly. "You'd think they'd be different – they are different – but not in the way you'd expect."

"Do they really have powers? The way the papers talk about them..."

"I know, I know. Yes, they have powers. It's all true." Hill was briefly silent, thinking.

"You're their doctor," Claire said. "Everyone knows your name now. Everyone's jealous," she laughed softly.

"I want to do what's best for them."

"And I'm sure you are."

"I don't know. I feel like I'm stuck half way. There's something more I should be doing."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. It just feels so wrong. They're only children, and some of the things they've seen...I don't even know the half of it."

"They talk to you about crime fighting?"

"I've asked them some questions."

"And?"

"And it's all very grim. And brutal. They're only children." Hill repeated the last quietly, and shook his head.

"They must be good at what they do if they've lasted this long," Claire pointed out.

"I don't doubt that they're good."

"I agree with what you're saying. Just because they can doesn't mean they should." Claire cradled her teacup between her hands, a small frown on her lips. She was a plump woman with an open face and wide, blue eyes. There was a notable warmth about her that was powerful, but serene, much like a blazing sun softened behind a blanket of mellow clouds. Hill had known Claire for three years. She was his best friend.

"What happened?" Claire asked suddenly. "What brought all this on?"

"Probably that thing yesterday," Hill said glumly. Claire leant forward on the counter, nodding for him to continue. "I don't know the exact details but yesterday afternoon I got a visit from Beast Boy and Starfire. Beast Boy was unconscious – and bleeding."

"Goodness. Was he alright?"

"He'd been hit on the back of the head with an iron bar."

"You're serious?"

"Yes," Hill said. Claire pursed her lips.

"How had it happened?"

"There was some kind of disturbance going on in Groger's – like I said, I don't know the details, but Beast Boy was attacked with an iron bar. That was as much as I could gather."

"Oh, Frank. Was he alright?"

"Yes. He had a concussion, but he was soon awake and on his feet. He wanted to get back to the others – I couldn't talk him into staying the night."

"I can see why you're starting to have doubts," Claire murmured.

"I never said I was having doubts. What's there to doubt?" Hill asked sharply.

"I know you, Frank. I know you don't like seeing anyone in pain, and I know you'd do everything in your power to keep these kids from having to suffer."

"What does that mean?" Hill demanded. Claire rested her hand lightly on his arm.

"When the time comes, you'll do what you think's best. That's all."

The two friends stared at one another. The pause grew and finally Hill parted his lips to speak, but the sound of the doorbell ringing stopped him.

"Were you expecting someone?" Claire asked.

"No," Hill said.

"Could be burglars," Claire chuckled.

"Could be girl scouts. I think I'll go see who it is before I release the hounds." Hill walked around the counter and left kitchen. He moved down the small corridor towards the front room, turning on lights as he went. The overcast sky outside had left the large house dull and cold.

Hill reached the front door and glimpsed two figures through the frosted glass. His curiosity piqued, the doctor hastened to pull the door open. Hill offered the two strangers who stood on his doorstep a politely detached smile.

"Yes?"

"Doctor Frank Hill?"

"That's me."

"Good afternoon. Detectives Shepard and Clines. May we come in?"

Hill's eyes widened in surprise, but he stood back and gestured from the man and the woman to step inside.

"We won't keep you long, sir," the woman said kindly.

"What's this all about?" Hill asked. It was the man who responded.

"Sir, you've been working as the doctor for a group of youngsters who call themselves the Titans – is that correct?"

"Yes," Hill said anxiously. A heavy weight of dread pressed down on him. "What's happened? Do they need me?"

"That's one way of looking at it," Clines said. He was walking slowly around the front room, studying everything closely as if to commit it to memory. Shepard smiled at Hill apologetically as she pulled out a small note book and pen from her jacket pocket.

"There's nothing to worry about. We'd just like to ask you a few questions," she said, and pointed her pen at a section of the room where a couch, some chairs and a glass coffee table had been arranged. "Could we...?"

"Yes, of course – take a seat," Hill said hurriedly. "Uh, can I get you something to drink? Coffee?"

"Coffee would be good." Shepard smiled, and this time there was pleasure behind it.

"How about you? Detective...?"

"Clines. And no. Thanks," Clines said shortly, suspiciously examining a snow globe on the mantle piece.

"Right. I won't be long," Hill said. He was still uneasy as he walked down the corridor, and almost didn't notice Claire coming towards him.

"Frank? Who was it?"

"A couple detectives. They want to ask me some questions."

"Oh dear. What have you been up to?" Claire laughed softly. Hill frowned at her.

"Claire, this could be serious. It's about the Titans."

"The Titans?" Claire sobered immediately. "What's happened?"

"I don't know. They say it's nothing serious."

"Are they still here?"

"Yes. They're in the front room."

"Alright. Would you like me to stay?"

"Please. I'm just going to make some drinks," Hill said, sounding a little dazed. "Could you try to find out what this is about?"

"I hardly think they'll want to talk to me...but I'll try."

"Thank you." Hill managed a smile and a nod, then made his way to the kitchen. Claire stepped into the front room and cleared her throat to draw the attention of the two people there.

"Hello. I'm Claire Singer – I'm a friend of Frank's. Would it be a problem if I stuck around?"

"No, I don't think that will be a problem," Shepard said.

"So you know the doctor fairly well?" Clines said, approaching Claire with an almost accusatory look in his eye.

"Yes. I'm a friend of his," Claire repeated levelly. "Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"That all depends," Clines said.

"No. He's not in trouble," Shepard said with a sharp glance at her partner. Clines muttered something under his breath and looked away.

Hill soon returned with the drinks. He handed Shepard her coffee and Claire her tea, and seated himself in a chair opposite. Clines remained standing, his shoulders tensely set and his arms folded.

"Okay," Shepard sighed contentedly, setting her coffee down on the low table. "Now then, Doctor, could you tell me how long you've been working as the Titans' personal physician?"

"Well, Commissioner Henderson installed me in this position several months ago. The undertaking was made fairly public."

"When did you first meet the Titans?" Shepard asked, scribbling in her notebook. Hill knew now how disconcerting it was to have someone recording your responses. He cleared his throat nervously.

"About three weeks ago – maybe a month."

"What were the circumstances of that meeting?" Shepard glanced up when Hill took a moment to respond. The doctor had an odd expression on his face.

"Don't you know?" Hill asked. He turned and looked at Clines. "I would have thought everyone knew..."

"Knew what, Doctor?" Shepard asked.

"That Robin was shot."

Hill's statement was met by silence.

Perturbed, he went on, "It happened during a bank hold up. Commissioner Henderson knew about it, so I assumed you would as well."

"No. We didn't know," Shepard said.

"Wait, I remember something about it," Clines said abruptly, and for once his voice sounded more reflective than severe. "Slade mentioned it when he and the kid were talking."

"Slade?" Hill repeated. "I know that name..."

"One thing at a time," Shepard said. "So Robin was shot and you helped him recover?"

"Yes."

"That was the first time you met him and the other Titans?"

"Yes."

"Doctor, do you know Robin's identity?" Shepard asked, leaning forward slightly on the couch. There was a tense pause and Hill's eyes flickered briefly to Claire's face.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked.

Shepard and Clines exchanged a quick glance. Hill rubbed his hand across his mouth apprehensively.

"Look, I'm really not all that happy discussing my patients when I don't even know what's going on," Hill said. "Surely you can appreciate how sensitive that kind of information is?"

"Doctor, it's very important that we find Robin. As soon as possible," Shepard said. Hill narrowed his eyes.

"Tell me what's going on."

"We really can't discuss –" Shepard began, but Clines cut her off.

"No, if the doctor here wants to know what's going on, we should tell him." Clines stepped forward so that he was standing in front of Hill. "Are you aware of Robin's criminal identity?"

"Criminal identity?"

"Yes. He calls himself Red X," Clines said the name slowly and loudly. Hill looked from one detective to the other incredulously.

"Is this a joke?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." Clines' mouth had flattened into a straight line. "Red X is guilty of several counts of theft. Last night he broke into the city museum. He physically assaulted several guards and attempted to steal again. Now we need to catch him before he tries something else."

"Hold on – what on earth makes you think that Robin is this criminal – this Red X?" Hill demanded.

"Take our word for it," Clines growled.

"Alright – the fact is we're not entirely sure that Robin is to blame," Shepard said forcefully. "What's important is that we get at the truth of this. To do that we need to at least talk to him."

"I really don't see how I can help you," Hill said coldly.

"It's simple – you tell us everything you know about this kid," Clines said.

"There's not a lot to tell."

"You're tryin' to make this hard for us?" Clines' tone was dangerous.

"Detective, I'm trying to do my job," Hill said. "That means maintaining a certain level of confidentiality for the sake of my patients."

"Right. It's also called withholding information."

"Vinnie," Shepard said warningly. Clines glared at her. Shepard turned to Hill once more. "Doctor, I understand where you're coming from, but you've gotta look at this from our perspective as well. If Robin has been breaking the law, he could get himself into serious trouble. The sooner we find him, the less damage he'll be doing to himself and those around him."

"I know Robin. I know he'd never do something like this."

"And that may well be the case, but we have to be certain." Shepard paused, then added gently, "I can see you care about these kids a lot. Robin needs help right now. If you can just tell us how to find him, I promise that I won't let any harm come of him."

Hill stared down at his lap, lost in thought.

"Frank," Claire said softly. Hill raised his eyes and looked at his friend once more. "Remember what you were just saying to me. Maybe all this is for the best?"

"I can't do it. I can't hand Robin over like this. It goes against everything I've ever said to him."

"That may be, and he may feel betrayed, but Frank, when is it going to end?" Claire reached across the coffee table and took Hill's hand. "There might be a time when you can't help, when it's too late. And what about Beast Boy? Just think about this. Perhaps...perhaps this is all happening for a reason? Perhaps it's time the Titans were children first, and superheroes second."

"You've been thinking about this lately, Doctor?" Shepard asked. Hill pushed his glasses back onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes, with obvious weariness this time.

"I'm concerned. I just wonder how things got to be like this. I mean, children protecting a city? I'd say it was ludicrous if I hadn't seen it for myself. I know the Titans are capable, but morally, it just doesn't sit right with me. Now you're saying Robin's some kind of criminal..."

"You think it's possible Robin is Red X then?" Shepard prompted.

"Robin is an exceptional young man."

"But do you think he's capable of this?"

"I...I couldn't say," Hill muttered. "He has no role model, he seems...lost. Alone. He has the other Titans – they're his family. But with no adult influence, there's a possibility..." Hill couldn't finished the sentence. Shepard wrote briefly in her notebook again, then glanced up and fixed Hill with a compassionate look.

"Doctor, will you tell us how to find Robin? You know it's the right thing to do. You know you'll be helping him in the end."

"I..." Hill wet his lips, hesitated.

"This is a no-brainer!" Clines cried abruptly, startling everyone in the room. "Look, Doctor, you can either tell us what you know and let us do our jobs, or you can not tell us and obstruct this investigation, in which case you're acting as an accessory to the crimes Robin has committed! Now what's it going to be?"

Hill was silent for only a moment longer, then he expression set resolutely and he stood up to face Clines.

"I'm sorry, Detective. In my capacity as a doctor, I cannot in good conscience tell you anything that my patients may have revealed to me in confidence. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with Commissioner Henderson. As far as I'm concerned, I'm working under his authority, not yours. Now I'll have to ask you both to leave. I have work to do."

"Now just a second –" Clines fumed, but Shepard stood and grabbed his arm.

"Get moving, Vinnie," she snapped.

"He can't do this!" Clines snarled.

"Yes, he can," Shepard said through her teeth, half-dragging her partner towards the door. Hill watched them go with a carefully indifferent expression.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor," Shepard called in a strained voice as she man-handled Clines out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Outside it had started raining.

"What are you doing? We need to keep pressing him!" Clines said furiously, pulling away from his partner and jerking the collar of his jacket straight with an air of wounded dignity. Shepard started walking towards their car, tucking her notebook and pen back into her pocket.

"Just don't talk for a minute, okay, Vinnie?"

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Clines said heatedly, following the woman. Shepard looked back at him with an angry fire in her eyes.

"You just ruined any chance we had of solving this quickly! Why'd you have to push like that? He was just about to talk! I mean, Christ Vinnie – what is with you and this case?"

"I just want to get this kid!" Clines snapped. "Now why don't we go back in there and try again? I promise I won't 'push'."

"That won't do us any good now," Shepard sighed, halting beside the car and tugging open the driver door.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Clines yelled. When Shepard got into the car and didn't reply, he hastened around to the other door.

"We're going to solve this. My way," Shepard said, plugging in her seat belt and starting the engine.

"So where are we going?" Clines asked. Shepard smiled thinly.

"We're going to see Henderson. A little chat with the Commissioner is just what the doctor ordered."

Chapter Text

Fire. And Rain.

Blood was smeared across the man's face. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, and that, too, was stained with drops of red. The source of the bleeding seemed to be the man's nose, although it was difficult to be certain. His right eye was swollen shut and his lower lip was turning purple. The eye that he had open stared fixedly at Cyborg.

"I know who you are," the man said. His voice sounded wet and raspy.

"Yeah?" Cyborg said.

"Yeah. You're one of them Titan kids. It's Cyborg, right? The half-man, half-robot."

"That's right. Why don't you tell me who you are?"

"Dave Stewart."

"Okay, Dave. Now that we know each other, mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Whatever." Stewart shrugged.

"Who beat you up?"

"Some guy."

"He have a name?" Cyborg watched Stewart's bloody face for a reaction. Stewart shrugged again.

"If he does, I don't know it."

"Right." Cyborg glanced over his shoulder, then back at Stewart. "That your house?"

Stewart's single eye shifted to the building across the street. Its brick had been scorched black, its windows smashed. A whole section of wall looked as if it had been wrenched away and a mess of rubble and plaster lay strewn across the street, damp and steaming in the drizzling rain. Filthy smoke rose from the house's partially collapsed roof, staining the woolly-looking sky like a dark smudge. Moving about the burnt skeleton of the building, fire-fighters searched cautiously through the charred remains for any hidden places where the fire might have survived.

Stewart's eye lingered on the sight several seconds longer before returning to Cyborg's face. He gave a dry little bark of laughter.

"Nope, that ain't my house. That's a heap of ash."

"Right... so, is that your heap of ash?"

"Yeah." Stewart gave a half-smile of appreciation.

"How'd the fire start?" Cyborg asked.

"Couldn't tell you. I was pretty out of it." For the first time, Stewart acknowledged the blood on his face, gingerly raising his hand to touch his nose. He narrowed his eye as his fingers came away wet, but other than that he made no reaction.

"You want me to get somebody to look at that?" Cyborg asked quietly.

"Nah. I've had enough of those guys." Stewart bent his head in the direction of an ambulance that was parked close by. A couple of paramedics were manoeuvring their way into the back of the vehicle, bearing a man on a stretcher between them.

"Do you know him?"

"No." Stewart shook his head slowly. It looked painful.

"So you don't know who shot him?" Cyborg said.

"Like I said: I remember some guy's fist comin' towards me, then things got blurry."

"Right," Cyborg said. He continued to watch Stewart in silence. The man held the look for a while, then turned his head away.

"What already?" Stewart demanded at last, uncomfortable under the youth's steady gaze.

"I wanna know something, Dave," Cyborg said. "How long you gonna keep lying to me? I know you're with the GC."

"The GC?" Stewart spluttered. "What the hell you talkin' 'bout, kid? Like I'd be a member of the Glass Circle...it's nuts..."

"What's nuts is that you're wearin' a GC pendant around your neck and you think I can't see it."

"What?" Stewart reached immediately for the collar of his shirt before he could stop himself. He grunted in defeat and dropped his hand again. "Okay. So I ran with the GC for a while – it was years ago."

"Didn't have the heart to throw your pendant away, that right?" Cyborg smiled thinly. Stewart glared at him.

"Right."

"Okay, cut the crap, man. Who's that guy you shot?"

"I didn't shoot him!"

"Who beat you up?"

"I don't know!"

"Was it the Trollys? I thought the GC settled things with them?"

"They did."

"So why'd the Trollys do all this?"

"They didn't!"

"Thought you said you didn't know who did it."

"I don't – I mean, I just know it wasn't – it could have been –"

"Oh man, just save it," Cyborg interrupted Stewart sharply. "I suggest you stick with the truth. Save us both a lot of time."

Stewart watched him shrewdly for a moment before responding:

"You with the cops on this?"

"Just the Titans," Cyborg said. Stewart passed his tongue lightly over his bruised lip, his eye swivelled from side to side.

"Alright, kid," he said finally. "I'll tell you what you wanna know – but I want some protection."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?"

"You want this or not?"

"Fine. Talk."

"I wasn't lyin' when I said I'd left the GC. I ain't had nothin' to do with them for over two years!"

"Keep going."

"Well, I've been keepin' my nose clean, you know? Got a straight job, bought the house...then outta the blue this happens! Goddam Codey bastards!"

"The Codeys?" Cyborg stepped closer to Stewart. "They did this to you? Why?"

"How the hell should I know?" Stewart hissed. "I only dealt with the Codeys a couple times in my GC days. I mean, shit! What did I do to deserve this?"

"Who were they – did you recognise any of them?"

"Nah. Codey's been hirin' fresh blood lately. I don't recognise none of them."

"How many were there?"

"Five, six? I dunno, they jumped me the second I got in the door."

"Did they say what they wanted?"

"Urg. Don't remind me..." Stewart put a hand to his forehead, then pulled it away quickly, a look of faint revulsion on his face this time at the sight of more blood on his skin. He sighed raggedly.

"Yeah, they kept askin' the same things again and again – they got really pissed when I said I didn't know what the hell they were talking about."

"What were they asking?"

"'Where's Slade? Where're you hiding Slade? What was the last time you saw Slade? What'd Slade have for breakfast this morning?' – the last one I might have imagined, but honestly I wouldn't be surprised. These guys were like dogs with bones. They were outta their heads! Whatever Slade's done, it's gotten Codey mad – in the worst kinda way. And who suffers for it? Me!"

"So you don't know where Slade is?" Cyborg prompted. Stewart groaned.

"No! Jesus, if I knew where he was, I'd go take him out myself! Son of a bitch's crap with Codey has ruined everythin' for me. What's Cecile gonna do when she comes home and sees this? I told her when I married her – I told her I'd left all this behind. She's gonna butcher me!"

"Is that why you want protection?" Cyborg couldn't hide his grin.

"Oh yeah, joke about it; this is just hilarious! My life's over. It's a real comedy – go sell tickets and popcorn, I'm sure those firemen could use a laugh! Geez!" Stewart was in the process of putting his head in his hands before he stopped himself.

"Look, I'm sorry, man," Cyborg said sincerely. "If what you say's true –"

"It is."

"– then you really got screwed over. It's strange though. Codey doesn't make mistakes often, right?"

"You suggestin' that I really have got Slade squirreled up some place in my house?" Stewart snapped. He waved a hand at the ruined building. "Feel free to have a look around for yourself if you don't believe me."

"I believe you," Cyborg said hastily. "Have you ever had dealings with Slade in the past? Maybe during your time with the Glass Circle?"

Stewart appeared to be on the verge of yelling at Cyborg, then abruptly his gaze grew distant and blank as if he was recalling something.

"Oh yeah. There was a time...but it was years ago! I used to drop off packages for him. They seemed to think I would have his address but I ain't never even come face to face with the guy – no one gets close to Slade. He's like a freakin' ghost or somethin'."

"That's Slade alright," Cyborg muttered.

"But it was nothin'. I can't even remember what happened – it was just some favour I was doin' some guy..."

"Could be what set this whole thing off."

"I can't believe it..." Stewart's look remained unfocused.

"Can you think of any reason Codey might be after Slade?" Cyborg asked.

"Asides from the fact Slade blew up one of Codey's buildings the other week?"

"Oh yeah, there's always that...why do you think Slade did it?"

"You're askin' the wrong guy, kid," Stewart said. "I've been outta the game too long. But I'll tell you this – whatever grudge Slade's got with Codey, it's big. You don't just pick a fight with a gang like Codeys for no good reason. Makes me wonder what state-a mind Slade's in anyway. He's gotta be crazy. Which means this whole thing's gonna be nuts. And you can bet I won't be the only one caught in the crossfire. This is only gonna get messier. Everyone'll get sucked in. Pretty soon, no one'll be safe. Just wait and see."

"Real bright future you've got in mind for Jump, hey Dave?" Cyborg said dryly. Stewart snorted quietly.

"Just wait and see," he said again. He started limping away, then paused and glanced back at Cyborg. "Just don't forget about my protection, okay kid?"

Cyborg shook his head, smiling.

"Okay?" Stewart repeated. "Cyborg?"

"Yeah, yeah. You just worry about what you're gonna tell your wife."

Stewart's face fell and he groaned as he hobbled on. Cyborg made his way towards a fire truck in the middle of the street. He heard Starfire's voice before he saw her.

"Thank you greatly for you assistance, Mister Pitman," the Tamaranian said cheerfully.

"No problem, little lady." The fireman standing next to Starfire tipped his hat and walked off. Cyborg came to stand at Starfire's shoulder.

"What'd you find out?" he asked.

"It would appear that the fire was started on purpose! Inside the house, Mister Pitman discovered several broken bottles that had contained kerosene. He believes they had been set alight."

"At least we know who's responsible," Cyborg said grimly.

"Who? You conversed with the injured man?"

"Yeah. He said the guys who attacked him were working for Codey." Cyborg raised a hand and pointed towards the end of the street. "Come on. I think there's a park down that way. We can talk there."

Starfire looked at her companion quizzically, but followed him. A small crowd of people had gathered close by to watch events unfold, although now that the fire had been extinguished and not a lot was happening, they had become bored and restless. A murmur of interest rippled through the group as Starfire and Cyborg came into view.

"Isn't that the alien?"

"And the robot-kid!"

"How'd the fire start?"

"Can I have your autograph?"

"Fly for us a bit, kid."

"Lousy kids – should be in a foster home not out on the streets."

"Freaks."

"How'd the fire start?"

"Okay folks, nothin' to worry about," Cyborg said loudly. "The fire's been put out. You should all return to your homes and let the firemen finish up here."

"Telling us what to do – punk kids..."

"How'd the goddamn fire start?"

"Excuse us." Cyborg shouldered his way through the crowd, Starfire in tow. Muttering and jostling, the people reluctantly parted for them. Cyborg breathed a sigh of relief once he and Starfire were further down the street.

"Bunch of vultures," Cyborg grumbled.

"They are merely naturally curious," Starfire said mildly. She kept pace easily beside Cyborg as they made their way along the sidewalk, although her feet were no longer touching the ground. Cyborg gave her a sideways smile.

"Sure, Star. Ah – see, there's the park." The youth pointed ahead once more, and glancing up, Starfire saw, at the street's end, another road, and then beyond that, robust hedges flanking a set of tall, metal gates.

"In this weather, there shouldn't be too many people," Cyborg said. He led the way through the gates and onto a winding path that felt more like a tunnel with tree branches twining and tangling to form a swaying roof overhead.

"This is a most vibrant place. Look – a flying rat!" Starfire squealed excitedly, shooting up into the air and searching amongst the leafy boughs.

"It's a squirrel, Star," Cyborg chuckled.

"I can no longer see it," Starfire said disappointedly, drifting back downwards.

"Hey, look at this fountain!" Cyborg exclaimed. The path had opened out onto a circular walkway of rough pebbles. A small water feature lay to one side. At its centre stood an angel carved from stone. Her wings were folded neatly at her back and cupped in her hands was a large dish. Water spilled thickly over the lip of the dish and splashed down into a pond below.

"Oh, she is most beautiful," Starfire sighed, gazing up at the angel admiringly. The angel stared back at her with sad, stone eyes.

"Okay Star, take a seat," Cyborg said, patting the broad rim of the fountain.

"Someone has dropped their coins in the water!"

"Don't worry about that. Come on, we need to talk."

"Very well." Starfire sat down beside Cyborg and studied him expectantly.

"There're a few... things we gotta discuss," Cyborg said slowly.

"Of what nature?" Starfire asked curiously.

"Well for one thing, we seem to be hearing about either Codey or Slade everywhere we go."

"They are notorious," Starfire pointed out.

"Yeah, but this is big, Star – even for them." Cyborg rubbed his hands together. "Don't you get the feeling there's something more goin' on here? Why did Slade blow up one of Codey's buildings last week? We've gotta find out."

"Perhaps we should make enquiries on the street?"

"Maybe we don't need to." Cyborg gave Starfire a hard look and the girl's brows rose in confusion.

"Please explain, Cyborg."

"Don't you think...don't you think Robin's been acting a little – weird lately?"

"Weird?" Starfire repeated uncertainly.

"He's over-defensive, his mind's not on the work – there's the whole Slade thing..."

"Cyborg, what is it you are trying to tell me?"

"I'm not tellin' you anything. I'm just wondering if you're thinkin' what I'm thinkin'. Just look at the facts – ever since Robin had that little chat with Slade, he's been different. Now Red X is back, Slade's launching a gang war –"

"Robin has nothing to do with Slade!" Starfire said fiercely. Cyborg sighed.

"Then who's Red X?" he said. Starfire blinked, then turned her head away uneasily.

"If something were going on, I believe that Robin would tell us."

"Yeah, like he told us last time," Cyborg said.

"No! Robin is our leader – and yes, perhaps he made a mistake in the past –"

"Perhaps?"

"– But he has learnt! He would not lie to us again."

"You keep tellin' yourself that, Star," Cyborg said. "In the meantime, I think someone needs to keep an eye on our leader."

"Do you have no faith in him?" Starfire cried, leaping to her feet. Cyborg looked up at her calmly.

"It's not like that, Star. I want to trust Rob, I really do, but right now I just can't be sure that he knows what he's doing."

"You may doubt Robin, but I do not." Starfire folded her arms. There was silence for several moments. Cyborg wiped at the sheen of drizzle that clung to his face. The stillness of the park hung about them almost oppressively, broken only by the soft roll of the water. Somewhere close by, a twig snapped loudly, startling both Cyborg and Starfire. Cyborg got to his feet and moved in a circle, his eyes searching the surrounding trees and ferns.

"Another squirrel perhaps?" Starfire murmured, her arms dropping to her sides.

"Don't know..." Cyborg replied. A sudden flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye made the youth spin around sharply. Something large and black darted away though the trees. Instinctively, Cyborg gave chase.

"Where are we going?" Starfire called, flitting up into the air.

"There's someone out there!" Cyborg yelled, plunging into the foliage and pounding off in the direction that the shadow had gone. He threw up his hands to ward of low-hanging branches and leaves. Some way before him, he thought he could hear the thudding of his quarry's footfalls.

"You see him, Star?" Cyborg shouted. He knew, or rather hoped, that the Tamaranian would be using her elevation to advantage. Cyborg received no response, but he did not call out again. The trees were thinning now, and ahead the undergrowth gave way to a children's playground. Cyborg skidded to a halt and cast about until he caught sight of a snatch of black vanishing around the corner of a hedge. Leaping the low gate that surrounded the playground, Cyborg sprinted across the springy tarmac and pushed his way between a pair of swings. He lunged around the side of the hedge. A pond stretched out before him, sprawling willow branches and dense clusters of reeds preventing him from seeing much of the bending path that rimmed the waters.

"Cyborg!" Starfire landed a little way up the path and Cyborg jogged towards her.

"Where is he?" Cyborg panted.

"I do not know," Starfire said. Her green eyes were wide and unsettled.

"Star...did you see –" Cyborg stopped himself before beginning again, "Star, did that guy look familiar to you?"

"It was not Red X!" Starfire said with certainty.

"No," Cyborg agreed. "I couldn't say for sure, but that looked a hell of a lot like Batman."

"Let me see it."

"No."

"Raven, would you please let me see it?"

"No."

"Raven, oh mighty and mysterious mystical-lady, would you please grant me my final wish before I die of starvation and give me just one quick iddy-biddy, teensy-weensy peak at that kooky and magical Stone?"

"Hm," Raven grunted, pausing and appearing to consider. After several seconds she added, "No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please? Puppy Eyes?"

"No."

"Why not?" Beast Boy howled. "I just want one little look!"

"You only want to look at it because I said you couldn't."

"What? That is so not true! Robin! Tell her to let me see!"

Robin turned around in his seat.

"Quiet. Stop drawing attention to yourself," he ordered.

"You always take her side!" Beast Boy whined. Robin scowled.

"I'm not taking anyone's side."

"Yeah you are!"

"Beast Boy, please," Robin hissed. He jerked a thumb towards the other passengers on the bus, all of whom were staring at them in alarm.

"Fine," Beast Boy said sulkily, slumping back in his seat. "Maybe I'll just never talk again!"

"Dare we dream?" Raven muttered under her breath. Beast Boy raised his voice to talk over her.

"Yeah, then it'd be: 'Oh, Beast Boy – we misjudged you completely! Please, please won't you say something? We didn't mean to be so horrible and cruel to you – we were just jealous of your rugged good looks and incredible sense of humour...'"

"I could gag him?" Raven said to Robin.

"No! Look, Beast Boy, do I have to swap seats with Raven?" Robin asked sternly. Beast Boy said nothing, turning away to glare out of the bus window. Satisfied, Robin shifted back around on his seat, looking boldly into the inquiring eyes of the people around him until they were forced to redirect their gazes. Robin tried to relax, to enjoy the gentle rocking motion of the bus. He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. He was so tired...

"All I wanted was one look, but would you let me have it? No. Why? 'Coz you're mean. Mean, mean, mean!" Beast Boy whispered to Raven out of the corner of his mouth. The girl ignored him pointedly.

"You always do that," Beast Boy went on, obviously encouraged by the knowledge that he had a captive audience. "The second I ask you for anything, you go running off to Robin! You're just a big snitch!"

"Quiet," Raven whispered. Beast Boy shrunk back a little, then seemed to regroup.

"No! You're always ordering me around and treating me like a kid. Is it that much to ask for a little respect around here? I mean, how much do you respect me? Really?"

"I'm not having this conversation."

"Come on, Raven! Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No!" Raven's head jerked sharply towards Beast Boy, her dark eyes glowing white for a brief instant. The window behind Beast Boy shattered.

"Ah!" Beast Boy turned into a marmoset and, shrieking loudly, he leapt upwards, his tiny monkey hands latching onto Robin's hair.

"Beast Boy!" Robin yelled, jumping up from his seat. All around them people were crying out in surprise and terror. Gripping onto a handrail for balance, Robin swatted ineffectively at the furry creature that clung gamely to his head. Raven was on her feet as well, although for once she didn't look as though she knew what to do with herself.

Luckily, at that moment the bus pulled into a stop, halting with a jolt that sent Robin flying. The boy might have spent the greater part of his life as an acrobat, but there in the crowded bus with a monkey attached to his head, there was little he could do to save himself. Sprawling gracelessly across the floor of the bus, Robin groaned with relief as he heard the doors rattle open a short distance in front of him. His relief turned swiftly to dismay as an entire busload of people charged towards him, all intent on distancing themselves from the abnormalities they had witnessed.

Robin barely managed to roll out of harm's way, squeezing awkwardly beneath a seat to avoid the oncoming stampede. Beast Boy's wiry little arms were now fixed about Robin's neck, and the monkey whimpered fearfully, its tail whipping from side to side. When at last it seemed that the bus was deserted, Robin threw an arm over the side of the seat and pulled himself arduously to his feet. He slowly raised his hands and attempted to pry Beast Boy from his neck, the marmoset only held tighter, squawking in protest.

"Are either of you hurt?" Raven asked. She stood in the narrow aisle of the bus, her cheeks flushed and a strained look on her face.

"We're just fine," Robin wheezed. He decided to let Beast Boy be, lest the changeling strangle him. Turning, Robin walked to the doors.

"What the hell happened?" the driver demanded, squinting back at his suddenly empty bus and then at the youth who stood before him. Robin shrugged and stepped down onto the sidewalk. The driver shook his fist and shouted,

"Hey – did you have that monkey when you got on? Hey! Kid!"

Exhaustedly, Robin stepped beneath the small bus shelter that stood on the sidewalk. It was starting to rain more heavily now.

"Robin?" Raven said, following behind her leader. As she moved into the shelter, the door of the bus snapped shut and the bulky vehicle lumbered away.

"Let's just...sit down for a minute," Robin said, lowering himself onto a plastic bench. Raven paused in front of him for a moment, then turned and took a seat at his side.

"Beast Boy?" Robin said at length, tentatively poking at the green monkey still clinging to his neck. Beast Boy gave a squeak and buried his head further into the curve of Robin's shoulder. Frowning, Robin glanced at Raven. The girl almost grimaced as their eyes met. She sighed quietly, then her gaze lowered.

"Beast Boy?" she said. The monkey shivered. Robin patted its back reassuringly.

"Beast Boy, I'm..." Raven wet her lips. "I'm...sorry I...lost my temper."

Marmoset-Beast Boy made a fierce little sound and wrapped his tail around Robin's wrist. Robin looked at Raven again, an eyebrow cocked. The girl glared at him, and went on with visible effort:

"You know that I...do...respect...you."

The marmoset's arms gradually relaxed and it slid down Robin's chest, crouching on the boy's knee with its back still turned to Raven. They all sat quietly for a while, and then finally Beast Boy turned into a cat and with an elated meow, sprang onto Raven's lap and started purring thunderously. The girl looked mortified, but to her credit was thoughtful enough to wait several seconds before throwing the cat to the ground.

"Ow! Raven, why d'you have to go and ruin every meaningful moment between us?" Beast Boy whinged, abruptly back in human form and picking himself up off the floor.

"That was not a meaningful moment," Raven said, on her feet as well and jerking the hood of her cloak up.

"Uh, yeah it was! If this were a movie, they'd have been playing a really momentous and violin-filled song just then – but no! You had to wreck it! You big...movie-wrecking...person!"

"Okay you two," Robin said, getting up and dusting himself down. "Let's save the dramatics, huh? We've got enough to do as it is –" Robin was interrupted by the chirping of his communicator. Plucking the device from his belt, Robin slipped the top back and pressed the 'answer' button.

"Robin," he said.

"Hey, it's me," Cyborg's voice responded. The crackle of the communicator was worse than usual due to the weather.

"Where are you? Have you finished up at Madison?" Robin asked rapidly. Beast Boy and Raven huddled closer to listen.

"Yeah, we looked in on it," Cyborg said.

"And? Were the Codeys involved?"

"Yeah. They'd beaten this guy up and set his house on fire. It was a real mess."

"What were they after?" Robin asked. There was a pause, then,

"Slade."

Beast Boy and Raven were watching Robin closely. Their leader's face remained closed. Beast Boy cleared his throat nervously.

"Heh. Guess this is the part in the movie where they play the sinister and threatening music."

"BB? What the hell are talkin' about?" Cyborg asked. Beast Boy's cheeks darkened.

"Never mind, Cy. It's an inside joke." Beast Boy waggled his eyebrows at Raven and nudged her playfully. He quickly stopped because of the look on her face.

"We expected this," Robin said at length. "There's clearly something going on between Slade and Codey that we don't know about."

"Yeah," Cyborg said. "And there's something else."

"What?"

"Me and Star went into this park, and we were talkin' for a while, and then...we saw someone..."

"Who?"

"Same guy me and Raven fought last night," Cyborg said. Beast Boy gasped and looked to be on the verge of saying something, but managed to stop himself, glancing guiltily at Robin.

"You think he's following you?" Robin said.

"I don't know," Cyborg responded. "But Robin...look, I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just goin' to say it. I think this guy is Batman."

"Batman," Robin repeated quietly. There were a few unpleasant seconds in which none of the others dared speak, then Robin said, "You think Batman's following you around Jump?"

"Don't say it like that!" Cyborg snapped. "I saw what I saw. Raven found a batarang!"

"So what?" Robin growled.

"I don't know what! I'm just saying!" Cyborg yelled. Robin looked away from the communicator, scowling out at the streaming wet street.

"It wasn't Batman you and Raven fought last night," Robin said finally.

"No?"

"No. We spoke to the curator at the museum – he told us that fake-Red X –"

"'Fake-Red X'?" Cyborg repeated, amused.

"Inside joke," Beast Boy said again. "You're missing A material over here, Cy."

"The curator said-" Robin spoke loudly to regain their attention "that fake-Red X had broken into Gotham Museum as well. Batman probably threw the batarang at him there."

"This wasn't Red X in the park," Cyborg responded.

"And it wasn't Batman either, but we think we know what Red X may be after," Robin said, gazing at Raven.

"What?"

"The Earthen Lord's Stones," Raven said.

"Right," Cyborg said doubtfully.

"Look, we need to talk about this at the Tower," Robin decided. "There're a lot of things that need sorting out –"

"Hold on, Rob," Cyborg said suddenly. In the background, the others could hear Starfire's voice shouting:

"Cyborg! You must come quickly! The man is back!"

"Looks like Batman's come back for more," Cyborg said grimly. "I'd better go."

Robin felt a half-painful pull in his chest and gripped the communicator tighter.

"Cyborg! Wait – I'm telling you it's not Batman!"

"Well we're gonna find out – once and for all."

"Cyborg!" The line went dead.

"Cue chase music," Beast Boy said. Raven gave him a warning look before turning to Robin.

"Back to the Tower?" she said. Robin shook his head, still holding the communicator.

"No. Not for me." He looked up at them. "You two get back to the Tower. Find out everything you can on these Earthen Lord's Stones."

"Where are you going?" Beast Boy cried as Robin took off from the bus shelter.

"I'm going to find Cyborg and Starfire!" Robin called back, then disappeared in the beating sheets of rain.

"Find Cy and Star?" Beast Boy snorted, turning to Raven. "More like find Batman."

Raven said nothing.

Chapter Text

One and the Same?

A dark shape loomed indistinctly ahead through the curtain of rain. Cyborg shielded his eyes with one hand, blinking and squinting. He felt the heavy downpour of water on his flesh, heard the wet impact of each drop as it struck the parts of him that were metal. His breath still came hard. His shoulders were heaving a little. After a quarter of an hour out in the downpour, he was soaked clean through. He stilled, his attention trained on the dim outline ahead. The rain distorted everything; smeared the colours so that they ran together like watery paint. As he moved closer, Cyborg realised that he was looking at a bridge. Built from a reddish stone, the circular space underneath reminded him of a tunnel for a train. Taking a final sweeping glance at the blurry woodland around him, Cyborg ran towards the bridge and the shelter beneath. The rain was like a dense wall sealing off the one end. The ground inside was comparatively dry. At the other end there appeared to be a wall, lost in the shadows and. stained with old graffiti. Cyborg stood tensely at the tunnel's threshold, scanning through the rain.

Somewhere in the mess of grey and green he glimpsed a flash of orange. Clapping his hands to his mouth, he yelled to be heard above the roar of the rain.

"Starfire! Over here!" He dropped his hands, again looking for further sign of the girl. After a moment Starfire's figure came into view. She seemed to hesitate a short distance from the tunnel as Cyborg had done, but as she drew nearer she caught sight of her companion and darted forward.

"What happened?" the Tamaranian asked breathlessly, landing at Cyborg's side.

"I lost him again. Did you see where he went?"

"I did not." Starfire shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

"Then he's gone." Cyborg glanced briefly at Starfire, then back out at the rain, his jaw set rigidly.

"Why do we pursue this person?" Starfire asked after a pause.

"You know why. It's Batman. He has something to do with all this," Cyborg muttered.

"Robin once worked with the Batman," Starfire said. It wasn't a question. Cyborg turned to her.

"Yeah, they worked together. I think Batman taught Robin everything he knows."

"Then why do you act as if Batman is our enemy? Surely he is a friend?"

"Things've changed, Star."

"What has changed?"

"I can't tell. But something screwy's goin' on. It could be that... there's a chance that... maybe..." Cyborg didn't finish. Starfire pressed her lips firmly together.

"You no longer trust Robin," she said tightly. "And so you believe that his friends cannot be trusted either –"

"Star..."

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you!"

"Then why can you not trust him?"

"Because of what he did," Cyborg snapped. "Because of how he's acting. Don't try and tell me you have no doubts, okay? I know you're just as worried about him as I am. He's under pressure, we all are. It's a big adjustment workin' with the cops, havin' the Doc around – I don't know, maybe it's all just shaken him up, made him do some dumb things. I know he's our leader, and he's our friend, but I can't go around pretending everything's okay and letting him drag this team into the dirt!"

"How can you say such things?" Starfire whispered. Cyborg rubbed his face with his hands.

"You know this makes sense."

Starfire closed her eyes.

"You would have me think that he is Red X?" she said softly.

"Just accept the possibility –"

"I refuse to!"

"You're being blind!"

"And you are being disloyal!"

The sky groaned and cracked overhead. Starfire's eyes widened and she backed further into the tunnel.

"This weather's only gonna get worse," Cyborg said quietly.

"There is no need for us to remain here."

"I guess not..." Cyborg watched Starfire's face, waited until she met his gaze. "So...you mad at me?"

Starfire sighed, was about to speak when a noise close by made her start around.

"What was that?" She held her hands ready in front of her now, her slender fingers curling into fists, an unnatural green light blazing into life about her hands.

"Not again," Cyborg said, following the girl's gaze towards the back wall of the tunnel. A burst of light made Starfire gasp, then there was silence, an agonising stillness before an uneven rip of thunder echoed down from above.

"Do you think it's him?" Cyborg murmured. Starfire frowned, not responding. Nothing could be heard over the trickling, dripping, gushing of the rain.

"I get the feeling this guy's playin' cat and mouse with us," Cyborg said, narrowing his eyes. "He could have lost us easily back there in the trees, but instead he's let us follow him here. Why?"

"I do not like this," Starfire breathed. The green light from her hands intensified so that her whole form was bathed in a glowing halo.

"You think he's back there?" Cyborg whispered. Starfire hesitated, then nodded wordlessly. Cyborg wet his lips. "Okay. I'm gonna have a look. Cover me –"

"I will go," Starfire said decidedly. Before Cyborg could argue, the girl had lifted into the air. She drifted swiftly towards the dank back of the tunnel, touching down lightly beside the wall. Her eyes moved over the damp and the shadows and her flesh began to crawl. She held still for long seconds, waiting. All at once the sound came again, a hard sharp click like stone hitting stone. She swung around, a brilliant bolt of emerald exploding from her right hand, slicing through the dark and striking a far point of the floor, sending up a shower of earth and gravel. Silence pulsed in between the relentless beat of the rain. The shadows crept slowly back.

"Star?" Cyborg called uneasily.

"There...is nothing," Starfire responded, turning towards him, heat already rising to her cheeks at her indiscretion. She shifted her feet, about to rise off the ground, when something landed heavily on her shoulder. Before she could draw breath to cry out, she was being jerked roughly around. Stumbling, she tried to catch herself, raising her eyes in time to see a gloved fist coming towards her.

A solid row of knuckles smashed into her jaw. Her head snapped back. She fell down awkwardly, grating the palm of her hand across the rock-strewn ground. Her senses rang, but she did not allow herself to lie stunned for long. Throwing up her hands in front of her, she released shot after shot of lethal green energy, blindly firing at her attacker in flickering darkness.

"Stop!" Cyborg barked, suddenly close beside her. Panting, Starfire paused her assault and waited, still crouched on the ground, too wary to chance getting to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Cyborg growled. Starfire did not answer, but instead shouted:

"Behind you!"

Cyborg spun around, barely managing to throw up an arm in time to ward off the blow aimed at his face. He splayed his hand, reaching out and latching onto the first thing that came close enough. It was someone's arm. Gripping more firmly, tugging the limb and its owner close, Cyborg twisted and flung his attacker over his shoulder. In that brief instant he discovered several things: his attacker was small and light and agile, with no visible weapon. Dressed in black. Cyborg's mind registered these facts in a detached manner as the figure flew over him and hit the ground at his feet with a dull thud. If the impact of the throw hurt, it wasn't apparent, for the next second the attacker had rolled aside and flipped smoothly up into a defensive pose. Cyborg readied himself as well, even as he took in the all too familiar costume.

"It cannot be!" Starfire gasped. She hung in the air close by, her lips parted in surprise and dismay. Standing poised and deadly below her was the unmistakable figure of Red X.

"Concentrate, Star!" Cyborg yelled, then Red X had launched at him, a well-aimed round-house kick to the stomach threatening to knock the wind from his chest. Cyborg came in close, throwing a punch and grunting as his adversary evaded it easily. With a cry, Cyborg lunged at Red X again, opening his arms in the hopes of locking them around the figure, only to find himself embracing thin air. Now Red X was behind him, bringing a joined pair of fists down on his unprotected back before springing nimbly away to avoid a fierce bombardment of green energy from above. Starfire dropped to stand before Cyborg, crouching defensively by her companion, her eyes burning vividly jade; her arms bent back at the elbow and her hands held bright and ready, high at her sides.

Red X flipped backwards on one hand, landing surely, arms already snapping into offensive positions. The movements held the assured skill and certainty of a martial artist. There was no one gesture, no particular action, but rather something overall and characteristic, so recognisable to Starfire that for a moment her anger faltered.

"Robin?" she whispered. Red X crouched low, masked face unfeeling and flat as a blank wall.

"Please! Speak to me. Why are you –?" Starfire's voice died as she saw Red X move again. The cloaked figure lowered one hand to retrieve something from the belt around its waist. Red X's arm jerked suddenly back.

"Watch yourself!" Cyborg shouted. He reached up and grabbed Starfire's hand, pulling the girl down just as a thin canister spiralled through the air towards them, a crimson stream of smoke pluming from one end. As the canister hit the ground, it exploded in a burst of red, momentarily blinding Cyborg and Starfire who pressed flat to the uneven floor, bracing themselves. The blast of scorching heat they expected never came, and instead they were left coughing and spluttering until the air had cleared. When they looked up once more, they found that they were alone.

Starfire got shakily to her feet. The side of her face was red and tender and already beginning to swell. She offered her hand to Cyborg, pulling the large youth easily to his feet.

"Are you harmed?"

"No. You alright?"

"I..." Starfire lowered her head. Cyborg stepped closer and touched her shoulder.

"I know, Star. It's hard –"

"No!" The girl pulled away from him. "No, it is not – it is not true!"

"It's alright. We'll sort this out."

"Robin would never – he –"

"It was him," Cyborg said quietly. Starfire stared at him, tears in her eyes.

"It makes no sense!" she cried. "Robin would not come here – he would not fight with us! It cannot be. He is miles away, with Raven and Beast Boy, he is not here – it was not him!"

"Star –" Cyborg murmured, reaching for her again. A soft crunch of gravel and stone startled the two companions. They spun around, this time facing the mouth of the tunnel, tensed once more for battle.

"Who's there?" Cyborg demanded, the metal plating of his right arm snapping and sliding and realigning itself into a laser canon. Starfire was in the air again, although her hands remained loose at her sides.

Through the rushing curtain of rain, a shadowy figure emerged. Cyborg's arm flew up and he took immediate aim. The figure approached heedless of the threat.

"Hello?" Robin called. He was panting heavily, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead. He strode in, peering through the murk and freezing as he caught sight of Starfire and Cyborg.

"What's going on? Are you guys okay?" he asked.

"Don't move," Cyborg ordered stiffly.

"What?"

"Don't move," Cyborg repeated. Robin held obediently still for several seconds, his eyes shifting from Cyborg to Starfire.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

"Robin...how could you...?" Starfire's voice was so soft that Robin almost didn't hear her. The expression she wore made him take a step forward.

"How could I what?"

"I said don't move!" Cyborg's arm-canon clicked. Robin's eyes widened.

"What are you doing?"

"Somethin' I should have done when all this started!"

"Cyborg – no!" Starfire cried, dropping to the ground and going to the boy.

"Just let me handle this," Cyborg said through his teeth.

"What's going on?" Robin asked.

"You know what's goin' on, damn it! What the hell did you think would happen? You've gone too far this time."

"Cyborg..." Robin sounded like he was struggling to remain calm. "I have no idea what you're talking about –"

"Don't! Just don't. It's over. I won't let you do that to us ever again!"

"Do what?" Robin shouted.

"That!" Cyborg pointed with his other hand at Starfire's face. The swelling had become visible, a dark stain on the girl's skin. Robin looked at her, the set of his shoulders stiffening visibly.

"What happened?" he breathed. His gaze locked with Starfire's and there was a furious heat in his eyes. "Who did that to you?"

"Oh, Robin," Starfire said, and covered her mouth with both hands. She closed her eyes just as tears began to escape.

"Star?" Robin said, distress and fury making the name crack in his throat. "Tell me what happened!"

"Don't you talk to her!" Cyborg roared. "You have no right. You've put her through enough."

"No!" Robin yelled. He pushed a hand through his sodden hair and stared down at the ground, shaking his head very slightly. When he looked at Cyborg again his eyes were black and piercing.

"This isn't right," he murmured. "Whatever you think of me – it's wrong."

"You can't cover this one up, Robin," Cyborg said. "We know you're Red X again –"

"What?"

"– and you've been working with Batman to –"

"Shut up!" Robin shouted. "Don't bring him into this! You have no idea what you're talking about – I haven't worked with Batman for years!"

"I think I know exactly what I'm talkin' about," Cyborg said heatedly.

His voice low and trembling, Robin said, "I'll say this one more time. I am not Red X."

"Right. Then who were we fighting just then?" Cyborg demanded.

"I don't know! I only just got here!"

"Whatever," Cyborg snorted. "Look, here's what I want to know: why don't you tell us the truth? If you're doing things on the side for Batman – or for Slade – then let us know where we stand."

Robin was possessed by fury, he was in front of Cyborg suddenly, taking a wild swing at him.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Starfire sobbed.

"You don't wanna fight with me right now, Robin," Cyborg seethed, fending Robin off. He hit back suddenly and Robin was sloppy, unprepared for it as the blow landed.

A harsh grunt of surprise escaped Robin and he stumbled back, nearly loosing his footing as he reflexively tried to shield himself. Cyborg took a half step after him before a strong hand caught his arm and halted him.

"Enough!" Starfire shouted. Her eyes flared dangerously. Cyborg stared at her, breathing raggedly, then looked to where Robin stood a short distance away, bent slightly forward and holding his nose. There was silence beneath the bridge for a long moment, broken only by the sound of the rain and of their unsettled breaths.

Robin's communicator bleeped.

"Why'd you have to –" Cyborg began, speaking to his leader, but Robin ignored him, turning away and pulling the device from his belt.

"Robin," he said roughly.

"Where are you? Have you found the others?" Raven's voice asked.

"I found them," Robin said.

"Good. Come back to the Tower. I've found the link to Codey," Raven said, then abruptly cut off the connection. Robin returned the communicator to its place.

"Raven's found something," he said shortly, not looking at either Starfire or Cyborg.

"Robin, we can't just –" Cyborg began, but cut himself off as Robin finally turned back to face him. Starfire gasped sharply. Robin's nose was bleeding profusely, the skin above his lips and around his mouth shining blackly with blood. Starfire and Cyborg stared at him in shock. The team mates had never before hurt one another – not like this, not intentionally. The idea was so alarming and foreign to them that Robin almost looked like a different person, someone hurt and furious and utterly unfamiliar.

"I'm going to the tower," Robin said coldly. "Do what you want."

Chapter Text

High Risk

Beast Boy whistled a tune softly through his teeth, his eyes roving, bored, around the cluttered Lantern House. Most of the computers and monitors were switched off, their screens blank and vacant. The room felt strangely quiet, even empty without the usual hum of cooling fans. Beast Boy whistled a little louder, tapping his hands on the table top in a restless rhythm that didn't quite match that of the tune.

"Be quiet," Raven said, not looking up from her work. She was sitting at a computer - the only one she had elected to turn on - typing smoothly and ceaselessly. Beast Boy rolled his eyes, but he fell silent, his hands growing still at his sides. He watched the dark-haired girl narrowly for several seconds, then cleared his throat.

"So...found anything?" he asked. Raven's lips thinned, but her eyes remained fixed on the computer screen. When it became clear that she would not answer, Beast Boy slid down off the table where he had been perched and stalked towards her in annoyance.

"Hello? Anybody there?" he said, halting beside Raven's chair and glaring at her. The girl continued to ignore him, although the rate of her typing had slowed.

"Raven. Come on! Tell me what you're doing!" Beast Boy whined. Raven might have sighed, although it was difficult for Beast Boy to be sure. He saw only the drawn out rise of her shoulders, the slight tensing of her fingers, and then she turned to face him.

"Have you read the board?" she asked. Beast Boy shuffled his feet, uncomfortable now to find himself the sole focus of Raven's attention.

"The board...right..." His eyes shifted to where the whiteboard stood. Many of the pictures and printed sheets of paper that had formerly been stuck up around the edges had been taken down, and the writing that had been there the previous day was now gone, replaced by what appeared to be a large, annotated road map.

"Problem?" Raven asked in a clipped tone. Beast Boy felt his cheeks heat.

"Well...it's just – how's anyone supposed to understand that?"

"I explained how it works."

"No, what you did was say a bunch of words that could be put on a tape for people to listen to when they can't sleep at night."

"It's simple," Raven said tightly, rising from her seat. Beast Boy took an involuntary step back and Raven swept passed him. She snatched up a pen from the table and went to stand beside the whiteboard.

"What don't you understand?" she asked. Beast Boy stepped hesitantly closer.

"Uh..."

"It's a record of the case," Raven explained, her voice losing some of its sharp edge. "I've set everything out chronologically."

"Okay," Beast Boy said, and he seated himself easily on the table once more. Raven waited for him to settle, then turned and pointed with her pen to a large section of neatly printed writing near the top left-hand corner of the board.

"This is about the Cradle Building case." She glanced back at Beast Boy. "What was the Cradle Building case?"

"That thing where that guy was killed," Beast Boy recited. Raven blinked at him.

"How was he killed?"

"Fell out a window."

"Thrown through a window," Raven corrected. "And what was his name?"

"Oh..." Beast Boy blew out his cheeks. "Dunno."

"Redfield. Donald Redfield."

"Okay," Beast Boy said again. "Yeah. He was one of Codey's goons."

"Correct." Raven inclined her head very slightly, then raised her pen again and traced it along a smooth line that connected the first block of writing to a second. "Now, Redfield had been working for Codey for at least six years. From what I can gather, Redfield was one of Codey's best men. On the night he was killed, he had been trying to find something in the apartment of Silvia Dell."

"Okay."

"Whatever he was looking for never turned up," Raven said. "It was an Earthen Lord's Stone –"

"Like the one we have that you won't let me see." Beast Boy nodded sagely.

"That's right. Redfield had been attempting to –"

"So why did we find one of those Earthy Stone thingies in the museum?" Beast Boy interrupted. Raven's eyes rose to the Lantern House ceiling for a moment in a way that implied that she was searching for patience.

"We'll get to that," she said quietly, slowly. It was almost worse than if she had shouted, and Beast Boy shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"Redfield" Raven said again "had been attempting to steal the Stone owned by Silvia Dell. Because the Stone was not recovered, we believe that whoever has it is the same person who killed Redfield."

"Got it."

"Good. Now, the Codeys." Raven indicated a large diagram towards the right composed of text as well as various printed pages of writing and pictures that were held up by magnets.

"Someone did their homework," Beast Boy muttered, eyes widening at the daunting amount of information.

"The Codey family have been around in Jump for nearly half a century," Raven said. "They're one of the oldest and strongest mob gangs in the city. They have connections everywhere, from the underworld to the police depot. In the past they've been involved in prostitution, illegal gambling, drug dealing, protection. Damien Codey has been running the gang since his father's murder, ten years ago."

"Tell me we're not about to pick a fight with a bunch of mobsters?" Beast Boy moaned. Raven said nothing to this, but went on,

"Codey has an interest in the Earthen Lord's Stones. He sent Redfield to Cradle Building to steal the Stone –"

"Plus that wrinkly museum guy said how Codey had been around asking about our Stone," Beast Boy interjected.

"Yes. Although it's not yet clear what purpose Codey has in mind," Raven murmured. She glanced at Beast Boy sharply. "You understand so far?"

"Yeah!" Beast Boy said with an air of indignation. "It was just the way you were talking before - it made me wanna pull my ears off."

"Really," Raven said flatly.

"Yeah, really."

"Slade," Raven said abruptly, and tapped her pen against a mass of writing in the centre of the board. "He's connected to all of this."

"How'd you figure?"

"He recently blew up one of Codey's buildings, killing a substantial number of his men."

"Right."

"And he seems to have had dealings with Codey fairly recently."

"What kind of dealings?"

"We don't know," Raven said.

Beast Boy's lips curled at the edges in a satisfied smile.

"So, you don't have all the answers then? Sounds like you need help. Sounds like a job...for Beast Boy! Defender of Jump City! Friend of the furry! Vanquisher of evil mobster-guys!" Beast Boy had leapt to his feet and struck a dashing pose on top of the table, his hands planted on his hips, his narrow chest thrown out.

There was a long pause, then Raven deliberately looked away and folded her arms.

"Could you please stop doing that?" she said. Beast Boy deflated like a punctured balloon.

"Is it ever gonna be possible to lighten the mood with you around? I mean, sheesh. Give me something to work with here!"

"You have a serious problem with concentration."

"That's right – start insulting me!"

"I'm stating a fact."

"Fine. If I've got a problem with concentration, you've got a problem with a sense of humour – in fact, if you have any less of a sense of humour, you wouldn't have enough in order to have a problem!"

"You're wasting my time."

"No, you're wasting my time!"

"Do you want me to explain this or not?" Raven snapped. Beast Boy tried to think of something more to say, but finally gave up and sank back down onto the table, glowering.

"The point I was trying to make" Raven said "was that Slade and Codey are probably after the same thing." She paused, watching Beast Boy almost expectantly, but the youth refused to contribute anything.

"They're both after the Earthen Lord's Stones," Raven said.

"So what are we supposed to do to stop them?" Beast Boy finally asked.

"We have one Stone already. It may prove to be a valuable weapon."

"And if Slade and Codey are enemies now, we might be able to use them against each other," Beast Boy pointed out. Raven stared at him with a look that approached surprise, but she made no comment, only nodding.

"So Raven," Beast Boy said. "Do you – uh – do you think that..." He fiddled with his hands and didn't meet the girl's gaze. Raven waited patiently.

"Do you think that Batman might be..." Beast Boy trailed off awkwardly again. Raven's brows lowered to form into something of a frown. Beast Boy chanced a quick glance at her and swallowed hard before starting again,

"Do you think that Batman comes into this?"

Raven remained almost perfectly still, the only things that appeared to move were her eyes. Long moments stretched away, and Beast Boy stared out into space, almost forgetting his own question. He was startled when Raven's head abruptly snapped up and she said,

"He's here."

"Who? Batman?" Following Raven's gaze, Beast Boy glanced over his shoulder in time to see the door of the Lantern House swing open.

Robin walked in.

His movements were quick and precise as though he was acting automatically, without thought. His suit and his hair were plastered flat with water. His face was pale, his expression drawn. Low on the bridge of his nose and just visible beneath the rim of his mask, reddish blotches could be seen, evidence of bruising that was turning slowly purple.

Robin strode stiffly forwards, pausing when he reached his place at the table and grabbing the head of his chair with more force than was necessary.

"What have you got?" he asked without preamble. Raven and Beast Boy stared at him in stunned silence. Robin gripped his chair tighter.

"Raven?" he said sharply, his eyes locking onto the girl's face so that she was forced to respond.

"Robin..."

"What the heck happened to you?" Beast Boy burst out. Robin looked at him briefly. When he spoke, his voice held almost no emotion.

"It doesn't matter."

"But – I mean, what did you do? Walk into a wall?" Beast Boy attempted a laugh but it came out sounding strained.

"Where are Cyborg and Starfire?" Raven asked quietly. Robin's eyes hardened a fraction.

"I don't know."

"I thought you were just with them," Beast Boy said.

"I was."

"Then why –?"

"It doesn't matter," Robin repeated tersely. Beast Boy looked mildly hurt, but he quickly smiled again.

"Oh, I get it. This is a pride thing," Beast Boy chuckled knowingly. "Look, it's happened to all of us! So someone got lucky, snuck a punch in – big deal! I bet you showed 'em what was what! Right?"

"Beast Boy –" Raven began, but the changeling waved her off dismissively.

"I say we go out there, find the jerk who did this, and kick his butt! Right?" Before anyone could respond, Beast Boy had morphed into the form of a mighty Silver Back gorilla and was lumbering around the table towards Robin.

"No, Beast Boy," Robin said. He sounded suddenly exhausted. Beast Boy grunted playfully, nudging the older youth with one giant arm.

"<i>No,</i>" Robin said again, more sharply this time, and he turned away from the gorilla. Beast Boy flickered immediately back into human form and reached out, grabbing Robin's arm.

"Dude, what's wrong?"

"Just leave it," Robin ordered, harsher than he'd intended. He pulled away from Beast Boy and walked swiftly to the whiteboard, absorbing what he needed to with one quick sweep of his eyes. He glanced at Raven.

"You said you'd found a link to Codey."

"I have."

"What is it?"

Raven gave the youth a measuring look, then moved to the computer she had been working at.

"I typed in a search for the Earthen Lord's Stones," she said. Robin shifted close to her and studied the screen of the monitor intently.

"I found something from The Jump Post," Raven said, clicking the computer's mouse to call up another window. "The article is from two years ago."

"Is this an auction report?" Robin murmured, his eyes darting from side to side as he rapidly read the information on the screen.

"Yes. It's Sotheby's. They had an Earthen Lord's Stone in the auction," Raven said. Robin gazed at her disbelievingly.

"How much did it go for?" he asked.

"Fifteen and a half thousand dollars."

"And the highest bidder?" Robin already knew the answer.

"Was Damien Codey." Raven indicated the screen. Robin saw the name and nodded to himself. He took another look and frowned.

"He was bidding against a guy called David Stewart? Should we know him?"

"He's not in any of our files. I'm running a search on him," Raven said.

"Well, he might not even be important," Robin said. "The fact is, everyone's after these Stones...we know Codey has at least one. We have one. And Slade has one –"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Raven asked rapidly.

"I think it was him that night at Cradle Building," Robin replied. "He has Silvia Dell's Stone. It has to be him. Now Codey knows he has competition – that's why he's trying to find Slade. That's why Slade planted a bomb in Codey's building. It all makes sense. He's probably trying to get hold of Codey's Stone as we speak."

"What about Red X?" Raven demanded. Robin tensed.

"What about him?"

"You know he was after the Stone in the museum."

"Can we just – just forget about Red X for one second?" Robin said irritably. "Whoever he is, he's working for Slade."

"Slade," Raven repeated. It sounded somehow like a question.

"Yes, Slade."

"What do you want to do then?" Raven asked. Robin raised a hand, rubbing at the dampness on his face, avoiding the tender-looking skin about his nose. He pushed his hair roughly back from his forehead, then let his hand drop to his side once more in an almost hopeless gesture. Raven took a step closer to him.

"You're tired," She stated. Robin showed no sign of acknowledgment. Frowning faintly, Raven added, "Something's changed."

"No," Robin said, his eyes abruptly fixing on her face again. "No. Why do you all think something's changed?"

"I just sensed –"

"You're wrong," Robin cut her off. "Nothing's changed. I won't let..."

"What?" Raven prompted softly.

"I won't let it change. I'll sort it out." Robin's voice had weakened, sounding uneven, desperate almost. He and Raven said nothing for a moment, the words hanging between them, then finally Robin turned away, studying to the computer once more.

Raven's gaze drifted to the other end of the room where Beast Boy was still standing, his shoulders slumped slightly and his expression, for once, reserved.

"Raven," Robin said, regaining the girl's attention immediately."At least we know what Slade's planning – at last." his jaw tightened in determination, his eyes remote but gleaming with certainty, with sudden conviction."We'll beat him to it. We're staking out Codey's house."

A wide, quiet road cut its way through the trees. The land was unpredictable, rising in places, dropping sharply in others, typical of the costal region. There was a smell of salt in the air, diluted by the lessening rain. There were no houses hidden in the woodland, no cars making use of the road. The tarmac seemed like a causeless invader, smothering the grainy earth and dividing the trees in an uncompromising line. What for? What was the point?

A mansion. It had been hard to find, concealed on a dipping slope of land, masked by greenery, sweeping impossibly downwards as if it intended to reach into the sea. The mansion was pure money: raw, blatant, despite its secluded location – or perhaps more so because of it. Someone had spread the money, had smeared and layered endless dollars of it onto the land.

The mansion's walls were creamy white, the buildings arranged into a sprawling compound complete with extravagantly moulded window frames, rich stone paving, ornamental gateways and grand patios. The doors were all huge, made from heavy, dark wood. Even the staff lodgings looked costly, but in this place cost had lost all meaning. There were elegant fountains, pristinely-kept gardens as well as wilder snatches of the woodland, all held captive by tall, granite walling.

The entrance to the place was marked by a set of imposing metal gates, tall and severe and tipped with barbed spikes. Beyond could be glimpsed the bend of a sweeping drive. The rest was hidden by trees.

Robin pushed a thorny stem slowly aside, his eyes rapidly probing the leaves and branches that twined high around the gate. He lingered only a second, then darted back into the thicket, disappearing beneath the cover of the shrubs and ferns.

"We've got four cameras. There's a security pad for the gate," he said. Raven, crouched beside him, nodded.

"There'll be guards near the front – probably five or six," Robin went on. "If we're careful, no one will see us. We just need to get close enough to see what's going on –"

"Why are we doing this alone?" Raven asked abruptly. Robin blinked at her, taken aback.

"Well...like I said to Beast Boy, someone needed to stay at the Tower..."

"That's not what I mean," Raven said. "Why is it just the two of us? Why didn't you call Cyborg and Starfire?"

"Raven..." Robin struggled for words. "I...we can handle this without them, okay?"

"This is dangerous." ,Raven murmured, dark eyes boring into Robin's. The youth looked away.

"I know that," he said quietly. "I also know how to do my job."

The rebuke was blunt and for a moment Raven said nothing.

"I'll take care of the cameras," she said at length.

"Alright then. I'll get the gate open." Robin shifted, intending to move away, but he was stopped by Raven's hand around his wrist.

"Robin, you should tell me what's going on," the girl said. Robin stared down at her hand, then at her face.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't," Raven said simply, shaking her head. "Tell me the truth."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say," Robin muttered.

"Who did that?" Raven gazed pointedly at the bruising around the youth's nose. Robin pulled his hand back, scowling when Raven didn't release his wrist.

"Not now. This isn't the time," he said, trying to make his voice sound authoritative. The girl was unaffected, unyielding. The two of them crouched in the damp thicket, silent and stubborn. Finally it became too much.

"Raven, just let go!" Robin snapped. There was another pause. Sighing, he placed his other hand over the girl's.

"Please?" he said quietly. Raven's expression was difficult to read, but she was clearly aware that he was touching her. They hardly ever touched like this. She quickly took her hand away.

"Do you want me to heal you?" she asked, glancing at his bruised skin again before averting her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," Robin said shortly. "Look, let's just do this first. We can take care of everything else later." He didn't wait for Raven to respond, but took off through the foliage in the direction of the gate. He knew the girl wouldn't hesitate long before following him.

The security pad stood close to the gate of the right-hand side. The cameras were discreetly hidden in the tree branches overhead. Robin paused, waited. He heard the soft flap of Raven's cloak and looking up, saw the girl rise smoothly into the trees. He watched her closely, saw her locate each camera with her eyes, then gesture with one hand. The cameras gave no outward indication of any change, but a nod from Raven emboldened Robin to step out in front of the gate and approach the security pad, extracting what looked like a calculator from his belt. He knew he had to be quick. Removing the back plating of the pad was easy, but breaking the coding system without setting any alarms off took more time. It felt like long minutes before a little green light flashed on the front of the pad, and the gate swung slowly open. Robin raised a hand to Raven and hastily returned the plating to the pad. He jogged onto the drive and through the gates, turning to watch as they folded closed once more. Raven was already standing on the path to one side of the drive, almost indiscernible from the shadows beneath a row of a mighty elm trees.

"There'll be a long blip on the cameras. The guards might notice," Raven said as Robin approached her.

"There's nothing we can do about that," Robin murmured. He glanced around briefly. "I don't see any more cameras, but it's probably best if we stick to the trees."

The two of them ducked beneath branches and vines, forcing a path through the vegetation. They could still see out through the trees, though among wet shadows, they themselves were almost invisible. Following bend of the drive, Robin and Raven made their way as quickly and quietly as they could, eyes alert and watchful. They had been walking for a good ten minutes when they heard voices. Freezing in unison, the companions exchanged quick looks before peering out at the drive. For several seconds there was nothing, then the soft thud of footfalls could be heard on the tarmac.

Two men, both carrying sub-machine guns, came into view. They passed by without incident, barely glancing at the greenery beyond the drive. Robin left out the breath he had been holding and moved slowly closer to Raven.

"Looks like they noticed the blip," she whispered.

"Let's keep going. The house can't be far off," Robin replied. He was right. The drive soon began sloping sharply downwards and as it rounded another bend, a neat row of hedges came into view. Robin and Raven halted warily at the threshold of the trees, searching for any form of security, be it man or machine. They spotted one camera, although not wanting to arouse further suspicion, Robin decided against temporarily deactivating it as they had done with the others. Watching how the camera panned from side to side, Robin made a swift calculation before darting from the trees and across the drive to where a wide gap in the hedge provided a spot shielded from the eye of the camera.

Robin made a hurried gesture towards the trees and in another moment a patch of earth near his boots began to waver and darken like ripples on a black pool. Raven's cloaked head rose from the darkness, followed soon by the rest of her body as she materialised through the portal. Her feet hovered above the ground for a moment as the earth solidified once more, then she touched down and stood calmly at Robin's side.

"We're too exposed," the youth said, his voice low.

"Codey's mansion must be behind here," Raven guessed, studying the hedge thoughtfully. She suddenly raised both hands and placed them palm down on one bendy branch.

"What are you going to do?" Robin asked.

"I'll make room for you to get through," Raven said. Robin nodded, and the girl closed her eyes, muttering a chant softly to herself. The branch she held flickered suddenly black as if a dense shadow had fallen across it. The blackness spread like ink in water, tingeing a small portion of the hedge an unnatural shade. Robin heard a subdued groaning and creaking as the branches unravelled from one another and bowed back, allowing a gap in the hedge that was large enough for him.

"Thanks." Robin put one leg through, bending and ducking beneath the arch of branches. He crouched low once he was on the other side, for a moment going almost perfectly still. Behind him the hedge closed up, the leaves rustling and the branches slithering back into place. Raven stepped easily out of the restored wall of foliage and knelt close to her leader.

Before them lay a low wall of granite, and beyond that, a lengthy green of neatly mowed grass. Encircling the green was the last stretch of the drive, and, looming behind it all, the main building of the mansion. At the entrance stood another pair of armed guards, shifting idly from foot to foot, occasionally exchanging words.

Robin crawled forward until he had reached the granite wall. He turned, resting his back against the cold stone and thinking. Raven joined him.

"We're here," she whispered, as though she needed to announce it. "Do you just intend to watch?"

"What else can we do?" Robin said. He chanced a quick look over the wall, then dropped down again. "It's not as heavily guarded as I expected."

"Who would try to attack the Codeys?" Raven murmured.

"Not many people," Robin agreed. "But now Codey has Slade for an enemy...I would have thought he'd be more careful –" Robin barely finished his sentence, for behind them a shrill alarm suddenly began blaring.

"What the hell?" Robin muttered. He and Raven turned and shifted up onto their knees so that they could see over the wall. The alarm seemed to be coming from within the mansion. The two thugs who had been guarding the entrance were running inside.

"Do they know we're here?" Robin breathed. The stillness of the mansion was somewhat eerie. The guards did not come back outside.

"There's something –" Raven's voice died on her lips and her eyes flew wide open.

"What is it?" Robin asked uneasily. Raven lowered her hands to her belt, unbuckling a small leather pouch at her hip. Slowly and with the utmost care, she drew forth the object that had been hidden there.

"Something wrong?" Robin muttered. Raven traced her fingertips lightly over the smooth surface of the Earthen Lord's Stone. It was solid and cool like marble, oval and small enough to fit comfortably into the palm of her hand. The Stone, which had formerly appeared black, was now a deep, warm russet colour, seeming to glow softly as though lit from within. Carved on its surface was a jagged symbol that looked a little bit like a roughly sketched bird. Raven held the Stone closer to her face, narrowing her eyes and frowning in concentration.

"Anything?" Robin asked. His eyes darted towards the mansion, ever watchful for danger.

"There's a wall," Raven said, lowering the Stone once more. "I can't get past it."

"Why has it gone red?"

"It's reacting to something."

"But what?" Robin demanded. At that moment gunfire erupted from inside the mansion, and both Robin and Raven ducked instinctively. There was a far-off crash that could have been glass shattering, and then nothing.

Robin poked his head up first.

"That can't have been good."

"Robin –" Raven sounded breathless, and turning, Robin saw that the Stone's colour had intensified, glimmering like a ruby between Raven's hands.

"Something's happening..." Raven gasped. Her fingers tightened around the Stone and her eyes fell closed, a knot forming between her brows. Robin looked helplessly around, sweeping another hurried glance in the direction of the mansion. He registered a snatch of movement. A shadowy form – a figure on the roof. His mouth fell open.

"Raven – look!" he hissed, touching the girl's arm. Raven seemed to be in a trace, her body stiff and bent forward over the Stone, almost as if she meant to shield it, her lips moving as she intoned her mantra. Frustrated, Robin turned to the mansion once more. This time there was no sign of a figure.

"Raven, I have to go," Robin said in a rush. "I think I saw – I don't know what I saw, but I have to find out. Okay? Raven?"

The girl didn't seem to hear him.

Robin gazed at her hard, then making his decision; he squeezed her shoulder and rose to his feet.

He leapt the wall and sprinted across the open green towards the Codey mansion.

Chapter Text

And under the mask...

Robin tried the door. The heavy wood opened smoothly under his hand. He pushed it ajar, glancing quickly into the passageway beyond. He could see no one, could hear nothing over the alarm. He hung in the doorway, undecided.

A soft sound, like a cloth flag caught on the wind, made Robin jerk around. Something lithe and black fell from above and landed on the drive, barely three feet from where Robin stood. He took in the sight numbly. He hadn't been prepared for this.

Black...of course he had made the costume black. Black meant shadows, it meant danger. Black was the colour of a thief. Making the costume hadn't been hard. The main body of the suit was similar to Robin's – except for the colour. He remembered how it had felt, touching the cool black material for the first time. He'd locked himself in the Bunker, away from the others, away from everything, and he'd draped the length of material over his desk, running his bare hands lightly over it. He'd taken off his gloves to do it. This he wanted to feel with his skin.

He'd been surprised by his sense of guilt then. Wasn't he doing this for the others – for the city? Wasn't this just a means by which he could finally catch Slade? Wasn't it only pretend...?

No.

That was why there had been guilt. He felt shame in admitting it, even to himself, but he had enjoyed it. Designing the costume had been like redesigning himself. He had brought this character, this personality – he did not know what to call it – to life. He knew it intimately, down to the finest detail –history, motivations, strengths, weaknesses...

He – Robin – felt cleaner for it, he felt relief at last. There was a distinction now, something physical to separate the bad from the good. Robin wasn't the one making the suit, he wasn't the one who would be using it – Robin would never do something like that, surely? Robin lay discarded with the gloves on the floor. Richard Grayson was responsible for this. Richard Grayson was creating Red X.

So. The suit was a thief's black, the cape as well, though on the inside the material was grey. A utility belt hung around the waist – that had been a gamble. Would the others make a connection? Gloves that came up the forearm, grey and strong, and the boots, black. All that had remained was the mask. He decided that there would be a skull, simply because he liked the look of it, a red X slashed across his brow to match the one on his chest and the others hidden about the rest of the suit.

He liked the mask best of all. It covered his face entirely. Robin's mask bared too much feeling, too much emotion. Red X would be blank, invulnerable. There would be no trace of Richard Grayson. No skin would show, no indication that he was even human. He and Slade would be on equal ground then.

It had been easy. Far too easy.

The failure had been humiliating. In the end they'd all seen through the disguise. They'd all assumed that it was Robin under the mask. No one even noticed Rickard Grayson.

Dick's chest tightened; he could barely breathe.

No! Not Dick – not now. Robin. He had to be Robin.

Robin. He swallowed hard, watching dazedly as Red X paused to look from side to side, then sprang away from the drive and ran for the green. Robin took in several calming breaths. He felt shaky with relief – Red X had not seen him. At that thought, Robin stilled suddenly, his eyes fixed on the dark figure who was making a swift escape.

What the hell was he doing?

Furious, Robin flung himself away from the door of the mansion and shot across the green as fast as his legs would carry him. He focused on Red X's back, on the fluttering cape, on the shoulders that heaved slightly with fatigue. The sight reassured him immensely. This Red X was no phantom come back to haunt him. This was fake-Red X –a mere human being dressed up in a costume, some lackey who was doubtlessly working for Slade. This was someone who, over the past few days, had systematically gone about ruining his life.

Robin grit his teeth and put on an extra burst of speed. He could tell that Red X was still oblivious to the fact that he was being pursued. For a moment Robin toyed with the idea of dropping back, following at a distance. Perhaps Red X would lead him to Slade...

Robin decided against the idea. His anger wouldn't allow it. He wanted revenge. He wanted to be the one to pull that mask off someone else's face, to expose the truth. The others would see that they had been wrong. Cyborg would –

Robin shut down that train of thought. First he had to catch Red X. He'd think about the rest later.

The green ended abruptly and an immense stone wall came into view. It ran around the perimeter of the mansion, topped with barbed wire. Robin allowed his pace to slow to a jog. He wanted to keep surprise on his side. He was also curious to see how Red X intended on getting over the wall.

A rope ladder, light weight and almost indistinguishable from the stone, hung close by. Red X barely broke stride, leaping for the ladder and climbing with as much speed as was possible. Robin watched for a moment, then his eyes shifted to where a sturdy tree branch poked out overhead, extended like a helpful hand from the other side of the wall. Robin glanced briefly back to where Red X was still crawling laboriously up the ladder and allowed himself a grim little smile. At least there was one thing in Robin's arsenal that Red X did not have.

Raising his right arm, Robin fired a grappling hook at the tree branch just as Red X disappeared over the top of the wall. Robin quickly tested the line before activating the launcher's reel. He gripped his forearm in his free hand as the reel lifted him from the ground. The cable hummed with friction as it recoiled back into the launcher, and Robin raised his head, judging the distance of the nearing branch. As the right moment arrived, Robin swung on the line, using his weight to propel him forward. It took three goes before he had enough height and momentum for his feet hit the top of the wall. He balanced himself immediately, conscious of the ring of razor-sharp barbed wire between his calves.

Robin spared a glance down the other side of the wall. Red X had reached the ground and was already running for the line of trees that marked the border of mansion's grounds. Robin looked back at his grappling hook, still wound securely around the tree branch. He quickly unclipped the launcher from his arm and fastened it to his belt. There wasn't time to hesitate. He gathered a large loop of cable in both hands and jumped backwards off of the wall, allowing himself enough time to bring his legs up in front of him as the cable went taught. He landed his feet on the face wall, his knees and back bending. It was then a case of abseiling down the wall with a series of quick hops.

Robin landed and straightening, he rid himself of the launcher, leaving it to hang down from the tree above. Getting the grapple free of the branch would have taken to long. Robin heard the soft thud of retreating footsteps and turned in time to see Red X's black cape disappear into the murky shadows beneath the trees. Robin gave chase, plunging into the trees and casting about for any sign of his quarry. He heard a twig snapping, a whistle of a branch being whipped aside. Red X was being careless, not even bothering to quiet his flight. Robin followed the sounds easily, catching frequent glimpses of Red X, always just out of his reach.

They hadn't been running long before the trees gave way to reveal an exposed track of the tarmac. Robin saw Red X then, halfway across the road, and he knew immediately that he could not allow him to reach to woodland on the other side. Robin widened his stride until he was sprinting. He was close enough to hear Red X's unsteady breaths. With the element of surprise, he decided he could catch Red X's shoulder, pull him around and lock his arm behind his back, sweeping his legs out from under him. It would be quick and relatively painless.

Resolute, Robin lunged forward, raising a hand to grab his opponent's shoulder. Even as he did so, Red X's head jerked around in surprise. Robin didn't have time to change tactics; he'd have to rely on Red X having slow reflexes. His hand landed on slim shoulder, his fingers tensing, seeking a secure grip –

A hand snapped around Robin's wrist, and before he knew what was happening, his arm had been wrenched forwards, his whole body tugged along with it. Robin's stomach lurched at the sensation of being off-balanced, and in another instant he was flying over Red X's shoulder. Instinct born of repetitive practice was the only thing that made Robin remember to use a breakfall. He loosened the joints down his arm and shoulder and allowed himself to move with the force of the throw as he had been taught.

He rolled as he hit the ground, his shoulder and side absorbing the impact of the fall. He was only half-prepared for the hands that reached down, pinning him to the ground. Red X had thrown him and was now trapping his right arm across his chest with all the deft competence of a season Judoka. Robin was almost winded with disbelief. He hadn't been expecting this kind of resistance. Still, if Red X wanted to grapple...

Robin hooked his foot around his opponent's ankle, jerking it forcefully so that Red X stumbled, loosing his hold over Robin's arm. Robin swung himself immediately to his feet, though as he did so, Red X flipped backwards and away, putting sufficient distance between them. Robin narrowed his eyes. Whoever Red X was, he'd received instruction in at least one martial art.

Once the two of them had settled their footing and balance, there was a pause as they sized one another up. They were similar in height and built, although Robin decided that Red X was lighter and weaker in the upper body. It was difficult to be certain as they were both wearing capes.

Without warning, Red X flew at Robin. Their arms locked and once again they were grappling in earnest. Robin allowed his body to fall easily into the rhythm of Judo, his mind locking into the tactics of evasion. There were throws and locks to worry about, as well as off-balancing and groundwork. Red X was like an eel, sliding out of his grasp every time he gained the upper hand. It was all about defence.

Robin was unsure of how long they had been fighting. He could now feel the strain the Red X's arms as they grappled breathlessly in the middle of the quiet road. Sweat made Robin's suit stick to him uncomfortably. He had to remain focused. He had to find an entry...

At last he saw one. Misjudging a block, Red X stumbled slightly. Robin didn't miss a beat, and in a decisive move, he stepped in close, finally securing a grip on one of Red X's arms and pulling. He heard his enemy's rough grunt as he lost his footing, and then Robin had him. Twisting low, he threw his adversary over his hip with a body drop. Red X tried to alter his footing to prevent the drop, but his balance was already lost. Robin sent Red X quicker to the ground with a sharp sweep of his leg, and the rest was easy.

Robin had Red X pinned and his arms locked in the time it took to blink.

Red X put up a token struggle, but the lock was impossible to break. Robin stared down at Red X, panting raggedly and saying nothing. He kept his grip tight as a vice, though his adversary offered no further resistance. When finally Robin spoke, his voice was a little hoarse with fatigue.

"Red X," he said. He waited, glaring down at the masked face, a face so utterly devoid of human feeling, so cold and indifferent, just as he'd designed it to be –

The eyes. He had forgotten about the eyes.

They were visible through the mask's two holes – black-ringed holes that looked like sockets, giving the skull emblem on the mask's face a creepy sense of animation. The eyes that stared up at Robin were brown and wide. Every time Red X blinked, Robin glimpsed a white flutter of eyelids, framed by dark lashes. Robin tried to keep glaring, but he was too taken aback. This Red X wasn't a phantom, nor was he a robot. He was a person, a someone. Robin scowled at his own sentiment, reminding himself that this someone was the reason he'd been punched in the face by one of his teammates...one of his best friends. This someone was in league with Slade.

Robin's jaw set determinedly at that. Whoever this someone was, they did not deserve his pity. Freeing one hand, Robin reached forward and sharply, unceremoniously, pulled the mask from Red X's face.

Robin's expression went slack with surprise.

"You're –"

"A girl?" Red X supplied. Robin blinked, shook his head.

"Who are you?"

Red X said nothing. She met Robin's astonished gaze levelly, her lips pressed into a smooth line. Her hair was brown and a little curly, dishevelled by the mask she had been wearing. Robin kept staring at her, trying to place her identity without success. He did not know for certain what it was he felt. Dissatisfaction? Most likely. He'd wanted a conclusion, an answer. All he'd received was the face of a stranger.

"What are you doing here? Why are you wearing that costume?" Robin demanded. Maybe he was hoping for some elaborate explanation from the girl that he could fault. She offered nothing however, continuing to watch him in silence. Robin tightened his grip over her locked arms and lent his head down closer to hers.

"I think you should start answering me," he said, his voice low.

"Look, Robin," the girl said abruptly, "I can see you're pissed off – that's fine, I mean, under the circumstances I'd be too, but I'm really not the person you need to be talking to."

"What?"

"I can't answer your questions. Sorry." The girl looked like she'd shrug if she could. Robin opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, closed it, then opened it again,

"Just tell me your name."

"No can do."

"Why not?" Robin said through his teeth. The girl sighed, not bothering to respond. Robin could feel a headache coming on.

"How's this. Either you talk to me, or you talk to the cops," Robin snapped. The girl looked a little shaken by this.

"The cops..."

"Yeah, the cops."

"No, that wouldn't work." The girl shook her head. Robin stared at her in bemusement, floundering for something to say.

"Alright." Robin closed his eyes for a moment. "Here's the situation as I see it: masquerading as the criminal Red X, you've broken into two city museums – one Jump, the other Gotham, for the purpose of stealing Earthen Lord's Stones for Slade."

Some of the colour drained from the girl's face.

"What – Slade? Are you crazy?"

"Now you've just broken into Codey's mansion to steal his Stone," Robin went on. His expression hardened suddenly. "Do you have it on you now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the girl said, too quickly.

"Where is it? Hand it over," Robin ordered.

"I don't even have it! I was lucky to get out of there at all."

"So you admit you're after the Stones?"

"No – I mean – just stop it!" The girl looked flustered. "Stop asking me questions."

"How do you know me?" Robin asked abruptly. The girl smiled faintly.

"Everyone knows who you are."

"What's your name?"

"You know, asking the questions in a different order doesn't mean I'll answer them."

"Are you working for Slade?" Robin was loosing his patience. It must have showed on his face because the girl's eyes widened uneasily.

"Just calm down, okay? I'm not working for him."

"Who are you working for?"

"I...can't tell you."

"Fine. That's it." Robin reached for his belt, keeping a firm hold of the girl as he pulled out his communicator.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the cops." Robin flipped the device open and began keying in the numbers. The girl squirmed beneath him.

"Hey! Stop that – what the hell's your problem?"

"Start talking and I'll stop dialling." Robin paused and glanced at the girl again. She bit her lip and looked away.

"Okay then." Robin lent a little over the communicator.

"No! Alright – I'll tell you who I'm working for, but that's all!"

"Who? Who is it?" Robin demanded.

"Oh...he's not going to like this."

"Tell me!"

"Alright! Alright." The girl fixed Robin with a heated look. Her voice was low and intense as she spoke.

"Batman. I'm working with Batman."

Chapter Text

Think No Evil

Azarath Metrion Zinthos

The words had lost their meaning. Flat, unnatural noises that were swallowed and forgotten even as they were formed. Raven felt a shift. Blindly she reached out once more, opening herself little by little to the void before her. One more time.

Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She fought and grappled with the vastness of what surrounded her, seeking an answer, seeking anything stable that would anchor her.

There was nothing.

No, not true. She could feel something – just out of reach, beyond the border of her awareness. Remnants? Echoes? She spread herself determinedly forward. Her mind bled outwards in every direction. She spread herself until she was thin, no more than a whisp of thought, and still she found no end, no beginning. Disorientation threatened to overwhelm her, and swiftly she withdrew herself again.

Now huddling and minute, Raven retreated into her own mind. She felt relief at the familiar sights that greeted her. Although shrouded in shadow and in places heavily blanketed in black mists, her mind at least held depths that she could fathom. Staring out from behind her barriers, she could not entirely suppress a shudder as she viewed the unchanging vacuum from which she took refuge. This place...this place was numbing – not dead, but blank, utterly closed to her.

The enormity of it was unsettling. Raven wanted to believe that it was an illusion, that the seeming infinity of the vacuum was merely a trick devised to keep her out. But more deeply she felt the truth. The Earthen Lord's Stone had dwarfed her to the extent that she was set adrift within its dark expanse. She had no doubts that sanity could easily be lost there – such was the intangibility of the place.

Raven turned as she felt a ripple of movement from within her mind. A short distance away she sensed something crouched and hidden in an ominous patch of shadow. This plane of her mind had taken on the form of a roughly puckered landscape where stone and earth had been eaten away leaving hollows and crannies that gaped like parched wounds. Warily Raven approached the nearest cave. She could feel the presence of something here, but the presence was a part of her, and as such she could not pin it down. An unexpected burst of movement made Raven recoil, but it was too late. Four flaming eyes leapt at her from the darkness, rows of needle-sharp teeth flashed in the grey light, and an icy whisper met her ears and pierced her like a scream.

Raven remained still. The presence that had unfurled rose upwards and passed overhead. Upon her landed a tattered and fearful shadow. Presently it passed and weak light filtered back. Raven stared after the nightmare she had glimpsed with lingering unease. This did not bode well. Quickly she readjusted herself and left. The Earthen Lord's Stone pulled on her mind for an instant, then slid from her as easily as water. With the sickening feeling of dropping from a great height, Raven returned to the physical plane. She collapsed forward onto her hands, her body aching, her muscles slack and drained of strength.

Dazedly, she raised her head, opening her eyes.

There was a gun pointed in her face.

"Why hello," a man. He was smiling but his eyes were cold and hard. "What're you doin' out here?"

Raven saw that there were two of them. She recognised them immediately as the guards she and Robin had seen keeping watch at the entrance of the mansion. She glanced from one man's face to the other. They both seemed startlingly crude when compared to what she had experienced with the Stone. They loomed over her, framed by a cloudy sky, their features vague in the feeble light. The man closest to her was short and stocky. He was the one who had spoken, the one whose gun stabbed at her forehead.

Raven's knees itched where the damp grass pressed against her skin. How long had she been here? She lowered her eyes, straining her ears to catch for any sounds of struggle or combat. She could hear nothing but the distant murmur of the wind in the trees and the soft creaking of the hedge at her back. She and the two men appeared to be alone.

"Hey. I said what're you doin' here?" the short man demanded. Raven's gaze snapped back to his face. Her fingers were stiff and weak, but she tried to curl them tightly over the Earthen Lord's Stone. It felt warm in her palm. The man didn't seem too concerned by her silence. He jerked his gun.

"Get up."

Raven went to move her arms, but they felt heavy and uncooperative. Her trip into the Stone had been exhausting and fatigue left her body weak and uselessly slumped. Her eyelids fluttered, threatening to fall closed again. The taller man moved suddenly towards her and grabbed her roughly under the arm, pulling her to her feet. Silent anger pulsed from Raven as she tried to jerk away from him. The guard let her go almost at once, leaving her to stumble. Raven bit off a cry of dismay as her grip loosened around the Earthen Lord's Stone and the smooth object slid through her fingers and rolled away into the grass. Her eyes flitted to the guard's face, but he had been too busy grinning at his companion to see what had happened.

"Think you can manage?" The short guard turned his head to leer at her, his crooked finger lightly tapping the trigger of his gun. Raven straightened her back and fixed him with a level gaze. He nodded his head in the direction of the mansion.

"Start walkin' then."

The taller of the pair led the way around the low wall of granite. Not allowing herself to look back towards where the Stone had fallen, Raven followed him unsteadily onto the green, planting each foot with care. The other man fell in close behind her. Raven shut her captors out, focusing inwards once again.

Reaching out with her mind, Raven tried to summon power to herself, much as she had tried to inside the Stone – except this time, as she drew further and further from the Stone, she felt a stir of response at her probing. Inside her, energy gathered at an intolerably slow rate, seeping lazily to her like dark syrup. She needed time. If she collected enough power, her strength would return. She would be able to fight. She just needed time...

"So what's with the getup? Little early for Halloween." The guard walking behind Raven snorted at his own joke. When it was clear she would not respond, he went on, "You know, girl, you're in pretty deep shit. Our boss don't like trespassers – 'specially not ones who try to steal from him...I don't know what kinda stunt you were tryin' to pull, but I'll tell you now, the boss ain't happy. Codey's one guy you don't shit with. I'm sure your buddy'll be findin' that out soon enough."

Raven's expression did not change, she did not falter in her collection of energy, but deep in her eyes there was a flicker of alarm.

"I don't know what you mean. I came here alone," she said quietly. She watched the man in front of her and saw his shoulders stiffen slightly. The guard walking behind was a few seconds answering.

"Sure, honey," he laughed finally. "And I'll just bet you stopped by to sell cookies. Nah, there's no way you're gettin' outta this – not your little friend neither. What's it he calls himself, Mitch?"

"Red Z, isn't it?" the man in front offered without looking back. Raven stared.

"Red X?" she said sharply. The energy she had collected jolted, making her head hurt.

"Yeah," the guy behind said. "Real catchy. He's as good as dead, you know. Codey's after his blood – but you...maybe if you play this thing right, quit with the dumb act, you might not end up the same."

"Thanks for the advice." Raven had had enough. She stopped walking and shifted so that she could see both guards clearly. The taller man continued walking, oblivious, but the more talkative one of the pair had stopped as well, his brows flying up in surprise, his finger tensing on the trigger of his gun.

Calling on her hard-won power, Raven made a calm gesture with a sweep of her hand. Black static crackled through the weapon. In another instant it was wrenched from the man's grip, the butt sweeping up and smashing into his chin. He grunted, staggering back a step. The gun tilted and flew at his stomach, knocking the breath out of him with a meaty sound. As he fell forward the butt caught him again in the face, this time connecting squarely between the eyes. In less than a second, he was unconscious on the grass. Raven glanced up to see if the other guard had noticed his companion's instantaneous defeat, but he had not.

Raven looked at the gun still hanging in the air. She curled her fingers into a loose fist and, with a metallic snap, the weapon split into five segments. Raven allowed the smaller fragments of the gun to drop lifelessly to the ground, though she kept an invisible hold over the butt of the weapon. Her eyes slid to the second guard once more, and her chosen segment of weaponry sped away in the same direction, meeting the back of the man's head with some force. He fell without a sound. Raven hastened towards him, her movements more easy now and strengthened by the fresh energy she had gathered.

The girl paused above the prostrate guard. He was knocked out cold. As Raven glanced back towards the granite wall where she had dropped the Stone, a wave of warning broke across her. Jerking her head up, she saw two more guards sprinting towards her from across the green. They didn't even try to talk to her, levelling Heckler & Koch 53s and opening fire as they ran. A globe of ebony energy sprang up around Raven just in time. Bullets hammered off the shield, causing it to ripple and shudder like water bombarded by raindrops. Raven narrowed her eyes, her face bare inches from the onslaught. She could see the distorted shapes of the guards through the barrier. Light burst from the barrels of their guns and Raven's ears rang with the sound of rapid-fire. She was caught unawares by the attack on her back. Turning, she saw that at least four more men had appeared and were moving in close.

She was surrounded.

Throwing up both hands, Raven closed her eyes tightly, forcing out her mantra through her teeth. She felt each bullet as it hit the shield, sensed the confusion and anger of the men around her. Her arms trembled. She had not gathered enough power...

Suddenly Raven sensed a flare of energy – not her own, but strikingly familiar. Opening her eyes, she glimpsed bolts of green light colliding with the earth several feet from where she stood. The guards scattered. At last Raven was able to drop her shield, no longer the target of the attack. She raised her eyes and saw Starfire, flitting through the air, delivering a fierce barrage of starbolts from above.

The earth shuddered underfoot and, turning, Raven watched as an enormous white rhino charged towards her. Some of the men ran while others gasped and swore in alarm, forgetting their weapons in a moment of confusion. Seeing her chance, Raven reached out with one hand, her fingers twitching, seeming to snag the air. In another instant the guns had been yanked from the slack hands of the guards and, with a muffled crunch of plastic and metal, screwed up into balls as easily as paper.

"Good goin', Rae!" Cyborg shouted. He had appeared close by, his arm cannon held easily at the ready. What empty-handed men still remained now regarded him with uncertainty. Cyborg's smile was thin. Aiming low, he fired a laser of dazzling blue at the ground. The resultant explosion was enough to send the guards running.

"Raven! Are you harmed?" Starfire cried, dropping gracefully to the ground and placing both hands lightly on Raven's shoulders.

"No." Raven gazed at the Tamaranian calmly.

"Oh! I am so relieved!" Starfire looked on the verge of pulling the other girl into a hug, but suddenly Raven's hand flew to her forehead and she gave a soft hiss of pain.

"My friend – you are indeed harmed!" Starfire exclaimed. Raven closed her eyes.

"I'm just...tired..." She had spent too much of herself maintaining the shield and, as the edge that adrenaline had lent blunted, she found she could no longer ignore the trembling that shook through her body.

"Raven?" Beast Boy jogged towards the two girls, slightly breathless but once more returned to his human form. "Looks like we got here just in time, huh? Raven? What's the matter?"

"We must not linger here." Starfire now held Raven's arms as though she feared her companion would collapse. Raven was standing quite still, her eyes tightly closed and her fingers pressed to her forehead. White light pulsed before her eyes, the sound of blood pounding thickly in her ears.

"Alright, let's make tracks before those guys regroup," Cyborg said, shooting uneasy glances towards the mansion.

"Where is Robin?" Starfire raised her head and looked frantically from side to side.

"I think – he got away." Raven forced the words out. Every syllable was an effort. Exhaustion had caught up with her. She now leant heavily into Starfire's hands. The Tamaranian supported her easily.

"Away? Where? Where is he?"

"Star, there's no time. Besides, Robin knows how to take care of himself," Cyborg said bitterly. He narrowed his eyes, catching a flutter of movement at the mansion's front entrance. He was painfully aware of the team's vulnerability out in the middle of the green.

"What if he is in trouble?" Starfire asked softly.

"Wow – guys, I think Raven's zoning out..." As Beast Boy spoke the words, Raven's legs gave out beneath her and she was half-way towards the ground before Starfire managed to clumsily catch her.

"Rae?" Cyborg hurried towards the girl and hurriedly felt her neck for a pulse. "She's okay. I think we need to get her back to the tower."

"Cyborg..." Raven's eyelids fluttered open. Starfire bent and caught up her legs, raising her up in her arms as easily as if she was a child.

"It's gonna be okay. We're takin' you home," Cyborg said. Raven's brow furrowed.

"No...in the...grass...the...the Stone..."

From behind them came the piercing crack of gunfire. Spinning around, Cyborg levelled his cannon and fired off several return shots.

"Come on – we gotta go! Now!"

"The Stone..." Raven whispered. Her eyes fell shut, her head slumping against Starfire's shoulder as the girl took to the air. The worried frown remained on Raven's face even as she succumbed to sleep.

Starfire climbed the steps of the lighthouse up to the second floor. She manoeuvred her way carefully along the landing, the dead weight of Raven's unconscious form barely seeming to burden her. She paused before a closed door on the left and stood staring at it for several seconds before turning her head and calling,

"Beast Boy!"

The changeling came charging up the stairs within seconds, skidding to a halt just short of Starfire and looking from her face to Raven's in alarm.

"What? What happened? Is she alright?"

"Do not be distressed," Starfire said gently. "I merely require your assistance in opening the door."

Beast Boy slumped a little with relief and quickly sprang forward to comply, turning the handle and pushing the door open with exaggerated care. He poked his head into the shadowy room beyond before quickly withdrawing, a guilty grimace fixed on his face.

"You're on your own from here on, Star. Raven's room gives me the creeps."

"Very well. Perhaps you should aid Cyborg in his...activities." Starfire looked at once uncomfortable and sad. Beast Boy offered her a comforting smile.

"Yeah...I guess I'll do that." He stepped aside and Starfire carried Raven beyond the threshold of the room, into the dark.

"Hey Star?" Beast Boy called abruptly.

"Yes, friend?"

"I wouldn't touch anything in there if I was you."

"Very well."

"Bye then." Beast Boy scratched his neck, embarrassed. Starfire appeared once more in the light of the landing, although her arms were now empty. She smiled tiredly at Beast Boy.

"Please inform me if...anything is found..."

"Sure." Beast Boy nodded, then turned away. He sighed as he crossed the landing, his feet falling noiselessly as he descended the stairs. He could not stop his thoughts from drifting back to the events that had taken place earlier that day, when Cyborg and Starfire had arrived back at the Tower...

"But – but, I mean...that's crazy!"

"It's the truth, BB."

"Cy...you're kinda scaring me. This is Robin we're talking about! He'd never..." Beast Boy had gestured weakly towards Starfire. The young Tamaranian was standing at one of the Lantern House windows, her back to her two friends and her arms wrapped around herself.

"He did," Cyborg said tersely as he continued to sift through the mound of papers that covered the desk. "Look, do you wanna help me out here? This'll work quicker with two of us."

"What are you doing?" Beast Boy asked hesitantly. Cyborg didn't raise his head as he replied:

"Searching."

"What for?"

"Ah-hah!" Cyborg cried, ignoring the younger boy's question as he lunged across the table and grabbed up a piece of paper. There was a pause as he examined the sheet intensely, then abruptly his face fell and he dismissed the now-crumpled page to a pile of others on the floor.

"What are you looking for?" Beast Boy demanded again. "And why are you looking for it in Robin's stuff?"

"There's something here – there's just gotta be," Cyborg muttered, leafing rapidly through a file before discarding it. "Notes, documents, a journal...there has to be something..."

"Cy!" Beast Boy yelled, leaping up on top of the table and crawling over the heap of papers towards the other boy on his hands and knees. "This is nuts! You're acting all psycho –"

"No I'm not."

"Oh, right, my bad – this is perfectly normal behaviour." Beast Boy scowled when Cyborg went on stirring through the papers, saying nothing.

"Why has everyone gone crazy? It's not like this is the first time you and Robin had a fight," Beast Boy said. Cyborg looked up sharply, abandoning his search for the first time.

"Don't you get it, BB? This isn't some little fall out – it's big. The guy who's supposed to be our leader is working for the other side!"

"That's not necessarily –"

"Yeah, it is. He fought us – as Red X. Red X!"

"Why would he do that though?"

"Don't ask me! All I know is that he's breakin' this team apart –"

"Don't say that," Beast Boy murmured, distress shining clearly in his eyes. Cyborg's hard demeanour softened for a moment and he looked at the younger boy regretfully.

"I didn't mean it, BB. Trust me, this'll get sorted out. One way or another. And the team won't break up. I won't let it."

"What're you gonna do?" Beast Boy asked uneasily. Cyborg thought for a while, then suddenly his shoulders set as an idea came into his mind.

"We're searchin' the Bunker."

"What?" Beast Boy choked. "We can't –"

"We can, and we will." Cyborg was already moving towards the door.

"Cy – no – let's just wait a while!" Beast Boy scrambled down from the table and threw himself in front of Cyborg's path.

"C'mon, BB. It's the only way."

"It isn't! Star, back me up here. You can't be happy with this? Star?" Beast Boy stared over towards the girl, but she did not seem to react other than to tighten her arms around herself.

"Give it up, BB," Cyborg said wearily. "Let's just get this done."

"But – but –" Beast Boy searched frantically for some excuse – anything to reason with the older boy.

"But what about Raven?" he asked feebly. Cyborg halted, taken aback.

"What about her?"

"Well...she wouldn't...you know, agree with this."

"BB..." Cyborg said slowly.

"No, she really wouldn't!" Beast Boy insisted, his voice strengthening with his conviction. "And when she gets back and finds out, she'll probably be really mad! Er..."

"Raven won't be mad," Cyborg said logically. "You'll see. She'll agree with us once she knows how dangerous Robin is."

"Dangerous?"

"Didn't you hear what I said about him being Red X?"

"But...he wouldn't hurt one of us!" Beast Boy cried. Cyborg jerked his head back in Starfire's direction and gave Beast Boy a reproachful look.

"Oh. Right." Beast Boy shook his head. "I just can't believe..." His eyes went suddenly wide. "Crap."

"What?"

"Well...Raven, she's with him."

"With Robin?" Cyborg had gone very still and Beast Boy shifted nervously under his gaze.

"Yeah. They left before you got here."

"Where did he take her?"

"Uh, I think I said 'they left'. Quit makin' out like he's kidnapped her –"

"BB!"

"Alright, alright. They went to stake out Codey's place."

"Oh God." Cyborg rubbed his forehead.

"Do you think they're in danger?"

"Not Robin," Cyborg spat. "He's got new friends who'll take care of him. I'll just bet he's led Raven into a trap."

"Now that's goin' kinda far–"

"We must find Raven," Starfire said, cutting Beast Boy off. The two youths turned and stared at the girl who was now facing them, her expression unreadable.

"I think you're right." Cyborg flipped the pad open on his arm and began accessing his communicator.

"Are you goin' to call her?" Beast Boy asked. "She'll tell you she's fine –"

"No. I don't wanna risk Robin doin' anythin' crazy," Cyborg responded grimly. He raised his head. "I know where Raven is. Let's move."

Cyborg's worst fears seemed to have come true.

As he reached the lower floor, Beast Boy caught sight of the trap door where it gaped open, revealing another set of steps lit dimly by white light. With a growing sense of trepidation, he took a deep breath and kept walking, stepping down into the lower half of the lighthouse that formed the old Bunker.

This was Robin's domain, and while Beast Boy had ventured down once or twice during his early days with the team, he had never before visited the lower rooms without his leader present. The heavy shadows about the stairs reminded Beast Boy of Raven, though there was something all together more welcoming about this place that he had to think about for a moment to identify. It was the smell. His enhanced senses detected it immediately – a subtle and reassuring scent on the air that he had come to associate with Robin.

Beast Boy reached the last step and moved tentatively closer to the open doorway of Robin's research room. The flickering light of a computer monitor cast grainy shadows across walls that were covered in cuttings from newspaper articles and criminal databases. The floor was clear save for several cardboard boxes that lay in a neat pile in one corner. In the middle of the room was a simple table upon which the computer stood. Beast Boy noticed a couple of empty mugs perched atop a tall stack of documents and papers on the desk's edge. There was an old and rather beaten-looking chair in which Cyborg was sitting, hunched over the keyboard of the computer, typing furiously. Beast Boy edged slowly into the room and cleared his throat.

"Uh...how's it going?"

Cyborg glanced up at him, blinking a little to clear the glowing imprint of the computer screen from his eyes.

"Not too well. This thing's locked up good and tight. Rob's been real careful." Cyborg winced a little at the nick-name. Beast Boy chewed his lip and said nothing.

"How's Raven?" Cyborg asked.

"Star's just put her to bed."

"Good." Cyborg nodded. There was a long pause, then he said, "You feel like takin' a look through those boxes?"

"Not really."

"Yeah," Cyborg sighed.

"I thought you were all for the snooping? You know – hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to ransack Robin's top secret stuff we go..." Beast Boy's laugh was strained. Cyborg smiled weakly.

"What can I say? It isn't fun."

"Cy..." Beast Boy's tone was suddenly serious. He walked further into the room until he was standing beside his friend. "This is...really...sucky."

"Yeah."

"I don't get why he'd..."

"Neither do I. But..." Cyborg shrugged in a futile sort of way. "He's gone."

"You don't think he's coming back?"

"Why would he? He knows what's waitin' for him here." Cyborg's expression hardened.

"You wouldn't even hear him out?"

"BB, you saw what he did to Star."

"Yeah. Jeez..." Beast Boy shook his head. "It's gotta be Slade again – making him do stuff like last time. It's possible? Right?"

"Hold on." Cyborg was looking at the computer again. A small envelop icon was flashing at the bottom of the screen. "Heh. We've got mail."

"We? You mean Robin."

"This is weird..." Before Cyborg had been able to access the message, the monitor had gone black.

"Probably a virus," Beast Boy snorted. "That'd be funny – Robin went to all the trouble to –"

"Hello Robin."

The voice that came through the speakers of the computer made ice creep across Beast Boy's chest. On the screen an image was slowly filtering into focus. The hard face of a mask. One visible eye glinted softly.

"I'm so glad I have the chance to communicate with you again..."

"Robin's not here right now, Slade," Cyborg ground out. The almost-pleasant voice that came through the speakers seemed not to acknowledge him.

"...I'd like to get right on to business. I happen to know that you are working with an old friend again. I've heard his name quite frequently, though we have yet to be formally introduced..." Slade seemed to pause, perhaps to make the effect more dramatic. It worked.

"Batman." He said the name lazily, releasing it slowly along with his breath. "I can't say I'm happy, Robin. This is something of a step backwards. But never mind. My plans will succeed...in the end. You will be my apprentice..."

"What a nut," Beast Boy muttered.

"...and with regards to your recent activities, I have only one other thing to say: well done, you now know about the Earthen Lord's Stones. The elements together raise the power from the earth." Slade inclined his masked head very slightly. "Until next time, Robin."

The screen went blank.

"What the heck was that all about?" Beast Boy demanded, pointing at the computer. His hand was shaking slightly and he hurriedly lowered it.

"'The elements together raise the power from the earth'," Cyborg repeated softly. He did not move for several seconds, then, heavily, he sat back in the chair. "Somethin's goin' down. Whatever it is, it's to do with those Stones..."

"And Batman," Beast Boy said quietly. "Looks like Robin's working with him after all. And he's in touch with Slade..."

"Yeah well, who cares?" Cyborg scowled. "Batman, Slade – there're all the same."

"Friends – why would he not have told us?"

Beast Boy turned and saw Starfire standing at the door of the Bunker.

"How can this be when he said, only an hour ago, that he would tell us immediately if he saw Batman?" Starfire asked softly. Her face looked drawn. Her usually lively eyes were dull.

"Now you see what I mean, Star?" Cyborg said. "Robin's not the person we thought he was."

"But wait, Slade sounded seriously peeved – doesn't that count for anything?" Beast Boy asked.

"All it means it that the bastard wanted Robin for himself," Cyborg said darkly.

"I guess...but Batman beat him to it – a long time ago," Beast Boy muttered. "And I thought he was a good guy."

"Good guys aren't what they used to be," Cyborg said. There was silence, then finally Beast Boy sighed.

"So that's it then?" He looked from Cyborg to Starfire. "Robin's just...gone to the dark side?"

"Looks that way." Cyborg stared unseeingly at the lifeless computer screen, his elbows on his knees and his chin cupped in his hands. "Looks that way."

Beast Boy and Starfire exchanged blank glances, but neither of them spoke. What more was there to say?

Chapter Text

Conflict of Interest

"Batman. I'm working with Batman."

"You're –" Robin faltered. "You're working with Batman?"

"Yes," the girl said. Robin stared at her blankly for several seconds, then slowly his expression tightened, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" he asked quietly. The girl regarded him steadily, an uneasy crease now apparent between her brows. Robin narrowed his eyes.

"Lying to me isn't going to make a difference."

"I'm not lying."

"Impossible." Robin gave a harsh laugh. He looked away from the girl for the first time, raising his head and glancing at the sky. The light was fading.

"Robin – Robin, I know how it sounds." The girl spoke in a sudden rush. "But I'm telling you the truth. You weren't supposed to find out. Batman said you'd react like this–"

"Just stop," Robin said sharply. His anger took him by surprise. "I don't need to listen to this. I've wasted enough time." He released the girl's arm suddenly and sat up. Before she could make any move to rise, he grabbed her firmly by the shoulder and jerked her over onto her front. She grunted in surprise, throwing out an arm to catch herself. Robin reached for her hand and twisted it smoothly up behind her back, swiftly doing the same with the other before reapplying his weight to hold her in place.

"Hey!" She thrashed furiously beneath him until she felt the hard snap of handcuffs around her wrists.

"You're coming with me," Robin announced tersely.

"No, you can't turn me in!"

"I don't plan to – yet. First I'm taking you to meet my friends."

"What?"

"You're going to tell the other Titans exactly what's going on."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can."

"Listen to me, you're being an idiot!" the girl snapped.

"No, you listen," Robin said, his voice heated by an undercurrent of anger. "I don't know who you are, or why you've been doing all this, but you're not getting away with it anymore."

"Will you just cool it for a second? You think I'm a criminal –"

"I know you are."

"But I'm doing this for a reason! Batman asked me to help –"

"Get on your feet," Robin ordered.

"Batman asked me to help him," the girl repeated loudly. "He knew I was the only person who could."

"Because Batman really needs help from some crummy thief."

"Some crummy thief? You're a real gentleman, you know that?"

"Get on your feet," Robin said again.

"I'm not a thief." The girl's voice strained under the effort of keeping calm. "I'm Harachim."

"That's supposed to mean something to me?"

"You've heard of the Earthen Lord's Stones?" the girl said.

Robin hesitated.

"I've heard of them."

"How much do you know?"

"I know you've been stealing them."

"And you think I'm working for Slade?" The girl turned her head awkwardly, trying to get a look at Robin's face. "Hate to break it to you, Robin, but you really need to get your facts straight before you start trying to arrest me."

"Fine," Robin ground out. "Go ahead – set me straight."

"I...there's a limit to what I can tell you."

"Let's start with your name."

"My name." The girl paused and stared hard at the tarmac for a moment before shaking her head and sighing. "My name is Isileet."

"What?"

"Isileet."

"Uh-huh." Robin didn't believe her.

"Like I said before, I'm Harachim...a Slave of the Stones."

"And you're working with Batman." Robin was smiling again at the sheer absurdity of it all.

"Yes I am. I've been helping him for a few weeks now. Here in Jump."

"Really."

"Yeah, really."

"Here in Jump?"

"Yeah."

"If Batman was... He'd have – he'd have called me. The Titans. He'd have called the Titans for help."

"No, that's exactly the point – he couldn't call you for help," the girl said patiently.

"You really expect me to –"

"He trusts you, Robin. Of course he trusts you. It's not about that at all. It's...the Titans."

"What about the Titans?" Robin's voice was low.

"Someone, one of your friends – I don't know who – but one of the Titans may have been passing information to Slade." The girl spoke with complete certainty. Robin stiffened, rage hitting him like a blast of scorched air even as a slither of ice crept up his back.

"Look, Issi..."

"Isileet."

"Whatever. You need to know that there's only so much you can jerk me around."

"I'm not –"

"Why're you wearing that costume?" Robin asked abruptly.

"He told me to. Batman."

"You're helping Batman by dressing up like Red X and robbing museums," Robin said flatly.

"Yes. You don't get it, but because of what I am, the Stones have power over me. I can sense them, all the time, but I'm the only one. I can tell you anything you want to know about them – I can tell you that all the Stones are in Jump right now –"

"Sure."

"Are you even listening to me?"

"No. Up." Robin tugged at the girl's cuffed wrists, gripping her shoulder with the intention of pulling her to her feet.

"Wait! There's more you need to hear –"

"Get up."

"You don't understand!" the girl said frantically. "The Stones – if the Stones were to come together in the wrong hands..."

"What? What would happen? Why does everyone want these Stones anyway?" Robin demanded.

"Power. Once all four Stones are Awakened –"

"There are four?"

"Yes. And when they're Awakened...I can't speak of it, but just trust me on this – you don't want that kind of power in the hands of someone like Codey."

"You're telling me that you're only stealing the Stones to prevent Codey from getting to them first?"

"Yes!" The girl nodded vigorously. Robin was silent for several seconds. Finally, he said,

"You're full of it. You say you're against Codey – I can buy that – but I happen to know that Slade's also against Codey and Slade's also looking for the Stones. I therefore conclude that you're working with Slade so that the two of you can collect the Stones before Codey."

"You're wrong!" the girl cried in exasperation. "I'm working with Batman!"

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am!"

"You're–" Robin didn't have a chance to finish. Hands grabbed him from behind. Fingers locked around his shoulder and elbow. Quicker than he could comprehend, he was being lifted bodily into the air. His stomach lurched, but then his feet hit the ground and strong hands were spinning him firmly around. He caught his bearings at once and snapped rigid in defence. Just as fast a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, fingers curling in a grip as unyielding as stone.

Robin raised his head. His eyes locked with his attacker's. He froze.

"She's working with me."

Imposing and terrifying, torn from shadow and darker than night. The billowing folds of a black cape spilt from the figure's solid shoulders in layers cold and consuming. Strong angles of a jaw and chin, all other features concealed beneath a jagged cowl.

Batman.

Robin's mouth was open, though no sound escaped, just a silent rush of breath.

"Robin." A greeting? Or merely an acknowledgement?

He had never imagined meeting again would be like this. Just one word and it was so easy. Memories he had collected – as Robin and as Dick – hidden, shut away. Small things, stupid things about the man: the shape of his fingers. The way he spoke, tone and rhythm. What he did with his hands when he was thinking. The way he sat in a chair. How he held his mouth while he chewed. The expression on his face while he read the newspaper. The way he walked. The way they walked, together. So familiar it hurt.

"What are you doing here?" Robin choked out. He could hear his pulse throbbing in his ears.

Batman regarded the youth for a long, silent moment, then finally released his wrist and stepped past him.

"This isn't the time."

Numbness creeping over him, Robin turned and watched as Batman went to kneel beside Isileet, swiftly picking the handcuffs and then helping the girl to her feet. Isileet dusted herself off, straightened her cape, rubbed her wrists, tucked her hair behind her ears. Robin realised vaguely that she was fidgeting and that an uncomfortable silence had settled over them. He was slightly startled to find Batman close to him again, holding out the cuffs with one hand. Robin hesitated, then accepted them.

"You're working with her?" he said dazedly. "She's a criminal."

"You're mistaken."

"Mistaken...?" Robin stared at Batman's face, sensing reproaching in the remark. Heat rushed to his cheeks as if he'd been slapped.

"You've kept me in the dark here." His voice was uneven.

"It was necessary," Batman said shortly. Robin blinked at him in disbelief, lost for words. It was then that Robin thought he saw it. The change.

"I get it," Robin muttered.

"No. Not what you think," Batman said. He spoke remotely, as if from faraway.

Robin swallowed dryly, shaking his head. A nauseous feeling was coming over him, confused sounds ringing in his ears, the echoing cry of a man's voice...

"Robin," Batman barked sharply. The youth started, glancing up again. Batman seemed to loom over him now, close enough for Robin to make out the stiff frown on his lips.

"Not because of that," Batman said again.

"I know," the youth lied. "Sorry."

"Robin..." Batman paused, then, speaking slowly, went on, "I forgave you."

Robin didn't trust himself to reply. He nodded once, sharply. A hand was now resting on his shoulder.

"You haven't forgiven yourself," Batman said. Robin closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, Batman was still there.

"Just tell me what's going on," Robin said.

"We need to go now. Codey will send guards. We can talk elsewhere. Come on."

"You can't really be – she's –" Robin swept his eyes in Isileet's direction.

"She's not a criminal," Batman said. Robin looked at him sidelong for a moment, then the tense set of his shoulders relaxed a little and he sighed.

"Okay."

Just then a crackle of gunfire erupted from some distance away. Robin jerked his head around, glancing quickly up the road. There was nothing to be seen. More gunfire echoed through the trees. Robin could tell now that they were not the ones under attack.

"We can't stay." Batman turned and gestured for Isileet to start retreating. "Robin, come with us."

"I can't." Robin felt the colour draining from his face. "Raven."

"What is it?" Batman asked rapidly.

"Raven – she's one of mine. I left her back there –"

"On the mansion grounds?" Batman asked.

Robin flinched inwardly. "I have to see that she's okay."

"Fine. We're leaving – we've stayed here long enough."

"Batman – just tell me where and I'll find you. You could come to Titans' Tower –"

"No." Batman was looming over Robin suddenly, and though the powerful man didn't lay a hand on him, he felt as if he was fixed to the spot.

"Why not?" Robin curled his fingers into fists, raising his chin up defiantly. "I don't see how you plan on accomplishing anything without help –"

"It's too complicated. For now promise me that you won't tell your friends about this – any of this."

"That isn't fair," Robin said through his teeth. His anger was like a physical heat that had settled in his chest. "You come to Jump without telling me – show up out of the blue..." His gaze slid towards Isileet once more, his disliking for the girl at an all-time high. "Your partner's caused me a lot of trouble –"

"Isileet isn't my partner," Batman said forcefully. "She's helping me."

"If you needed help, you could have asked."

"Robin, I didn't want to involve you in this. I can't afford to involve your friends. Too much is at stake."

"I remember when you used to trust me."

"I still do."

"Clearly not."

"It's possible that one of your number is working with Slade," Batman said.

"No. No, that's not possible."

"Promise me you won't tell your friends about meeting me. They mustn't know I'm here. They can't know about Isileet."

"You're asking for too much. The Titans –" Robin cleared his throat. "The last few days..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. To tell Batman that his team had lost faith in him. That he had failed them.

"I need you to promise." Batman was unmoved.

"Fine," Robin said. "I promise. But I want answers."

"You'll have them." Batman moved away, the edges of his cape lifting on the breeze. "Come to the Burnigan Roofs at eight o'clock tomorrow night."

"I'll be there," Robin said. As they disappeared into the trees, it felt as if the whole scene had been a dream: one of his nightmares. There was silence now – the gunfire had ceased, replaced by an ominous silence. Robin turned and ran off the road, trying to retrace his steps from before. He found a path through the trees and followed it back to the wall. The cable of his grapple was still hanging where he'd left it. Robin glanced quickly around at the surrounding murk. When the stillness began to make him uneasy, he took up the cable and began to climb.

The sight that greeted Robin as he reached the top of the wall made his chest tighten painfully. The green was swarming with guards, many standing in clusters and conversing tersely, others searching through bushes and behind walls. The fading daylight had a heavy, bluish tinge to it that gave the scene a surreal look. Robin felt the hysterical urge to laugh.

Where was Raven? What if she – what if they had –

"No." Robin took several slow breaths. The guards were still searching. That meant that Raven had gotten away. Didn't it?

Robin glanced over the green once more, taking a quick count of the guards and registering their positions before swinging over the wall. The cable bore his weight easily and Robin quickly made it to the ground, falling in a light crouch. He ran to a short row of bushes, freezing when he heard the deep murmur of male voices. Robin watched a pair of feet go by the bush, walking on across the grass. He didn't wait long before darting out through the branches again, throwing himself over the low granite wall. He lay on his stomach, listening, though in his mind he knew that none of the other guards would be searching close by.

Robin crawled forward on his hands and knees, his eyes darting at every shadow, searching for any sign of his companion. He paused when he reached the spot where he and Raven had hidden earlier, resting his back against the wall and staring at the tall hedge dazedly. What had he been thinking? To just leave her...?

"– how many were there?" The voice came from above. Robin started, then flattened himself against the wall as much as he could.

"Four. That's what Parker told me." The second voice sounded a little further away.

"Four kids? That's just pathetic."

"They're freaks though. Got superpowers."

"I don't believe it for a second."

"Yeah well, neither does Codey. He's guttin' those guys like fish."

"Us too if nothin' turns up."

"Total waste of time – Red X is long gone."

"You wanna try tellin' that to the boss?"

"No chance."

"Yeah. Didn't think so. Come on – let's check up by the drive again."

Robin waited until the two men were gone, then chanced a quick look over the wall. Most of the guards were gravitating back towards the mansion now, walking slowly, their heads held low.

Four kids...

Robin reached for his communicator, tugging it from his belt and flipping it open. The digital map of Jump glowed softly on the screen. Robin caught sight of his tracker first. His eye then went immediately to Titans' Tower. All four remaining dots were there – Beast Boy, Cyborg, Starfire...yes, Raven as well.

Robin let his head fall back against the wall in weak relief. After a moment he snapped the communicator shut and slid it back into his belt. He thought about contacting the others, but decided against it. He told himself it was because he didn't want to risk being overheard.

As quickly as he could, Robin scrambled back the way he had come. He needed to get out of here – fast. He'd have to go over the wall again –

Robin hissed as his knee connected with something hard in the grass. He paused, reaching blindly down. His fingers closed around something oval and palm-sized.

The Earthen Lord's Stone.

It shone a dark crimson in Robin's hand, though to him it seemed darker than before, as if the light inside had dimmed. Robin stared down at the Stone for several seconds, then placed it carefully into a compartment of his belt. He couldn't think about what he was going to do with it, nor could he think about what he was going to tell the others once he reached the Tower.

He forced himself to think only one thing: soon he would have answers.

Chapter Text

Home is Where the Hurt is

Robin groped blindly through the tangle of branches until he felt the hard rim of the electronic panel. The cover slid easily aside and he traced his fingers over the illuminated pad of buttons beneath.

0627238

He straightened his index finger, intending to punch in the code, but something made him stop. For several seconds he stood, unmoving, his finger hovering over the 0. He withdrew his hand. The panel closed automatically after a while, the lighted buttons disappearing beneath the cover. He blinked, looked down at the ground. The smell of earth and dry wood was strong. Night time put a chill in the air and he shivered suddenly, and wondered why he was bothering to hesitate. Huffing out a quiet breath of annoyance, he shifted forward again, raising his hand to the electronic panel and flicking the cover back.

0627238

He got as far as the fifth digit before stopping. He pulled back with a sigh and lent heavily into the curved bough at his back. The unfamiliar weight of the Earthen Lord's Stone in his belt drew his attention and he rubbed his fingers along its hard surface through the barrier of material.

Earthen Lord's Stone. What did that even mean? Robin let his eyes fall closed. He knew he was on the brink of losing something – maybe even everything. And for what? He didn't even know. Frustration rose in him so suddenly and so intensely that for a moment he felt overcome with it. A choked sound of hopeless anger forced its way out of him and he locked his fingers tightly over the Stone, his grip hard enough to make his fist tremble. And then just as quickly the feeling was gone, snuffed out and flattened beneath a falling blanket of exhaustion. He let his hand drop to his side. He forced his eyes open. Forced himself to straighten, step forward and reach for the electronic panel again. Push the cover back.

0627238

Press each plastic button with a hard stab of his finger.

There was a pause as the outline of the entrance became visible, then with a metallic creak, the door slid aside into its frame.

Robin stepped into the common room and waited until the door had closed behind him. His cheeks stung, cold skin objecting to the sudden warmth of the room. Only the lamps in the kitchen area had been left on. Robin could smell washing-up liquid, though the sink was empty, the dishes dried and neatly stacked in the cupboard. It was Raven's night to do the dishes, Robin thought distantly. He walked slowly over to the counter and placed both hands on the freshly wiped surface, his shoulders hunching as he leant heavily forward.

"I went through everything."

Robin wasn't startled to hear the sound of Cyborg's voice. He glanced over towards the shadowy sitting-room area where the larger youth was standing.

"Your cabinet, files, computer...everything." Cyborg gave a soft snort of laughter. "But you didn't take any chances, did you?"

Robin remained silent.

"What're you doin' here, Robin?" Cyborg asked quietly.

"I can't talk to you now."

"Oh." Cyborg's mouth set rigidly. "Oh right. Well you see, that's just too bad, 'coz if you aren't gonna give me one hell of a good reason not to, I'm about to throw you out on your ass! We don't ever want to see your face again."

Robin said nothing, pushing himself suddenly away from the counter. Cyborg tensed visibly, but Robin ignored him and set off towards the stairs.

"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're goin?"

Robin kept walking.

"Hey!"

If he could just reach the bunker...

"Robin," Cyborg shouted. The metal plating on his arm snapped back and the laser cannon was armed in an instant, levelled at the other youth's unprotected back. Robin stopped, staring down at the dark steps. He imagined the sound Cyborg's cannon would make – he'd heard it fire so many times before. He imagined himself falling, tumbling limp and unresisting down the steps, rolling to a boneless halt at the bottom. He imagined the others – no, he tried to imagine but he couldn't. His mind rejected the entire scenario. This wasn't him, this wasn't his life. None of this could be. It simply couldn't.

Robin looked over his shoulder at Cyborg.

"I'm staying," he said.

"Take another step – go ahead!" Cyborg growled. He was shaking.

"You won't do anything," Robin said softly. He shifted around so that he was facing Cyborg fully.

"You're seriously pushin' me man..."

"Are you going to shoot me?"

"Unless you leave right now –"

"You won't," Robin said again. He and Cyborg stared at one another for a moment, then Robin turned away and went down the stairs. His heart was beating painfully fast in his chest. He reached the last step, then walked the short distance to the Bunker. The light had been left on inside. Robin swung the heavy door closed behind him and threw the bolt across with an echoing clang. He pressed his cheek to the icy metal and listened. There was silence.

"He won't do anything," Robin whispered to himself.

The Bunker was a mess. The floor was covered in papers and documents, boxes and folders. The computer was black and silent on the desk. Robin knew that given enough time, Cyborg would have been able to tear down his security, pick through his files...

Robin began towards the desk, then stopped himself and walked instead through an open doorway to the left that led into his bedroom. A naked bulb hung overhead, illuminating the room harshly. A bed – still neatly made from that morning – and a nightstand were on one side of the room, a plain closest and a bookshelf on the other. An alarm clock was perched on the nightstand, its square numbers glowing redly. On the far wall there was a door, beyond it a tiny bathroom that consisted of an old metal sink, a toilet, and a shower.

Robin peeled off his gloves and threw them onto the nightstand. He then unclipped his utility belt and draped it over the bedpost before sinking down onto the edge of the mattress. He pulled off his boots and left them where they fell, rising once more to his feet. He went over to the closet and opened the door. Undressing, he arranged his clothes on the wire hangers.

The stillness of the room pressed on him as he stood there. He raised his hands to his face, hesitated, then pulled off Robin's mask. He held it tightly in both hands for a long moment, brushing his thumbs over the sleek material. He closed his eyes.

What about us? What about your team? We're just – expendable?

I need you to tell me the truth, Robin

What the hell did you think would happen? You've gone too far this time

You can't cover this one up, Robin. We know you're Red X again

Why don't you tell us the truth?

Something's changed

Tell the truth

I'm working with Batman

I've been helping him for a few weeks now. Here in Jump

One of the Titans may have been passing information to Slade

She is working with me

Robin...I forgave you

Promise me

Tell the truth

Too much is at stake

Tell the truth

Promise me...

The mask slid through Dick's fingers and landed silently on the floor. The youth stared down at it for a long moment. Did he really have to put it back on in the morning?

There was only cold water left in the tank. Dick gasped as he stepped under the showerhead. He tried to wash swiftly, but he was still shivering by the time he came to shut the water off. He dried himself with a rough, grey towel.

The floor was stone and there was no mat or rug. Dick shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he brushed his teeth. When he was done he hastened back into the bedroom, pulled on a pair of boxers, switched off the light, and got into bed.

His hair was still damp but he was too tired to care. He drew the covers close about himself and sighed. Hazily he registered the clean scent of soap that lingered on him, the sensation of his chilled skin slowly warming again, the creak of his spine as his muscles relaxed into sleep. The slow beat of blood in his ears.

Robin stumbled, the force of the blow making his vision blacken for an instant. He hit the ground hard. The world reeled and hummed before snapping back into focus. Robin tasted sour metal, suddenly strong in his mouth. He rolled onto his side and spat the blood out, breathing laboured and wet.

The gun lay near his hand.

Robin's eyes flew up, widening. He saw Batman. The billowing rise and fall of his cape was dark and familiar. He was grappling fiercely with someone – a man. Grunts and panted breaths wavered in Robin's ears as if he was hearing the sounds below water.

Robin found himself looking at the gun again. The light hit the barrel cold and grey. A feeling of dread stirred within him. Dread that was like hands closing on him. He tried to move, to get up, but the darkness weighed on him, almost crushing him as it held him down.

A lurch of movement. A black shape, denser than the shadows – closing in on Batman. Robin tried to raise his head. Every movement was slow and heavy. The black shape grew. It stretched and climbed until it was towering high like a mighty wave about to break.

"Batman!" Robin tried to shout. His throat was tight and closed. The cry came out a choked whisper.

The looming shadow bowed, on the verge of engulfing Batman. The Dark Knight fought on, oblivious.

"No!" Robin's scream was tiny and stifled. He watched in horror as the shadow abruptly took form, bending and folding into the blurred figure of a man, no smaller in the youth's eyes.

The details of the figure became clear in a moment, and Robin saw his face, saw him raise his arm – he seemed to be moving impossibly fast. Robin narrowed his eyes, straining closer. In an instant of clarity he saw something clasped in the man's hand, poised to strike Batman's unguarded back...

It was a knife.

Robin parted his lips, his body frozen as he realised what was about to happen.

He was reaching out before he even thought it. His palm slammed onto the butt of the gun, his fingers curled, gripped, his index crooking at once over the trigger as if it was natural.

Natural.

The figure's hand was falling. The blade of the knife caught the light and shone like glass as it descended. Robin pushed himself up. Levelled his arm. Aimed with some detached part of his mind. Tensed his finger. Felt the metal trigger biting, and hard –

He fired.

The swirling shadows that had pressed in on every side at once sprung back as if blasted by a terrible wind. The men disappeared. The gun disappeared.

Robin was alone.

A gaping emptiness ate at him. Horror that was both piecing and numbing swept through him in sickening waves.

He pushed himself to his feet. He was standing in what appeared to be a tunnel. The ceiling seemed uncomfortably low. The smooth floor and walls were made of an icy, dull stone. Robin started when he heard a hiss of noise and, glancing up, saw that Batman was standing some way up ahead. His back was turned, but Robin recognised the firm set of his shoulders and the tumbling fall of his cape immediately.

"Batman!" Robin ran forward. Warmth crept through him, hesitant but palpable at the sight of his mentor. He raised his hand, reaching for the man's shoulder. Before the contact could be made, Batman was moving, walking away.

"Wait – I need to talk to you!" Robin trotted behind the man, unable to fall into step along side him. Batman continued without pause, not even turning his head to acknowledge Robin's presence.

"Batman?" Robin raised his voice a little, picking up his pace and trying to glimpse his companion's features beneath his cowl. Oddly he found that his legs were slowing down, despite his efforts to go faster.

"Batman –" Robin's throat was aching. Emotion, dark and heavy, threatened to close in on him again. "Bruce?" Robin tried. His voice was strained. The distance between him and Batman was widening with every second that passed.

"Bruce, please –!" Robin said. "Please, just listen to me – there was nothing I could do! He was going to kill you..."

Batman's caped figure swept on down the tunnel like a rippling shadow. A hopeless fatigue had gripped Robin's limbs, making each step infuriatingly, and worryingly, difficult.

"Bruce – Bruce, I'm sorry – come back!"

The tunnel was darkening now as if a light was being carried away. Robin threw out a hand to grip the stone wall, squinting to see through the dimness ahead.

"Bruce! Please, come back..." Robin said weakly, coming to an almost complete halt as he leant closely into the wall. Despair crept back with shadows around him. His legs shook as if they would no longer hold him up.

"No..." Robin whispered, shaking his head desperately. "No, you said you'd forgiven me. Bruce, you said you'd forgiven me!" His voice cracked painfully on the words as he shouted them to the darkness.

A flicker of light, somewhere up ahead. Robin forced himself forward, stumbling frequently on ground that now felt uneven beneath his feet. The light grew before him until at last it took on the shape of a narrow doorway. Hope rose in Robin as he saw Batman again, silhouetted at the threshold, his back still turned.

"Bruce..." Robin said breathlessly. Batman did not respond, stepping forward into the light. Robin did not hesitate to follow him.

There was a rushing sound of air as Robin passed through the doorway. He turned only to find a closed door where the entrance had been. At once uneasy, Robin cast around in search of Batman. There was no sign of him. Alone now, the room he found himself in was white – everything: walls, floor and ceiling. There were no windows, no furnishing. Just blank lines, flat and hard. The white filled his vision completely and for an instant he imagined that he had gone blind.

"What is this?" Robin ran his hands over the surface of the door. There was no handle, no hinges. Again he heard that same whispering sound, and he turned once more to face the room. His skin crawled.

In the centre of the floor Robin saw it.

A mask.

A black and gaping shape that cut through the white like a slice of shadow or a smear of blood.

"No!" Robin cried, shrinking away from the mask, backing up against the door. His hands fumbled frantically for a handle he knew did not exist. Still, he could not face this. He could not confront the fact that his every effort had failed, that everything he had ever wanted, hoped for, was gone. That this was all that remained.

A mask.

"No..." Robin pleaded hoarsely.

Loud knocking from the other side of the door made him start back. There was a pause, then further knocks; hammering sounds that pounded through Robin like a physical force. He fell to his knees, his senses jarred as if they were being stretch and pulled in different directions.

"Robin?" The muffled voice sounded distinctly like Cyborg's.

Robin lifted his head, blinking and trying to fix his gaze on the door, but suddenly the whiteness of the walls was dazzling him, the edges of the doorway growing vague and indistinguishable.

"Cyborg?" Robin whispered.

"Okay, if that's how it is." Cyborg's voice sounded angry. "You've left us no choice. We're comin' in!"

Chapter Text

Cause for Concern

Doctor Hill was halfway into his jacket when the doorbell rang. He frowned faintly and checked his watch. 6:30pm. He wasn't running late. The bell rang a second time. He headed towards the entrance hall, pausing to fold the collar of his jacket down before pulling the door open. His brows flew up in surprise.

"Robin."

"Not really." The youth raised his head.

"Ah. Richard," Hill amended, nodding at Dick's foreign and civilian clothing. He noted the strap of a backpack slung over Dick's right shoulder. He stared at the boy's face for a lengthy moment, taking in the features that should have been familiar, but instead seemed sharp and bare in the absence of the mask. He glanced at the purplish bruising across the bridge of Dick's nose, then cleared his throat and stepped hurriedly back.

"Please – come in."

"Thanks." Dick moved into the entrance hall and watched Hill close the door.

"I wasn't expecting to see you." The doctor turned slowly around.

"I'm sorry – I should have called. I didn't have –"

"No, no. It's fine."

"Are you about to go out?"

"Hm?"

"Well, you're..." Dick gestured towards the doctor's jacket.

"Oh, yes, I was. Just coffee with Claire."

"Oh."

"She's a friend of mine," Hill said. He gave Dick a measuring look. "Rich...do you want to sit down?"

"Uh, if this is a bad time –"

"No. You know I'm always here for you. Let's talk." Hill started for the settee.

"Talk about what?" Dick hadn't moved from the entrance hall.

"Please come and sit down."

"Frank," Dick's voice roughened. "Did – have you spoken to Cyborg?"

"Cyborg? No. Why?" Hill perched himself on the arm of the couch and looked back at Dick expectantly. The youth walked over to stand reluctantly near one of the chairs. He didn't sit down. Hill sighed quietly.

"So. What's going on, Rich?"

"Not a lot."

"No?" Hill folded his arms. "The police are looking for you."

Dick tensed, the hand that gripped the strap of his backpack tightening rigidly.

"They came by yesterday," Hill went on. "Two detectives."

"Clines," Dick muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Clines – it was Clines and Shepard, right?"

"I...yes, I think those were their names," Hill said. "Do you know why they were looking for you?"

"I can guess."

"They think you're a criminal."

"I know." Dick met Hill's gaze levelly. "But they're wrong."

"What's this all about then? Who's Red X?"

"Frank..."

"No, Rich, I need some facts here."

"You know I'm not who they think I am."

"I –"

"You know I'm not Red X. You have to know – or else you'd have turned me over by now."

Hill rubbed his forehead.

"I want to trust you," he said softly. "But you've got to meet me half way. Please."

Dick looked hard at the doctor for a while. Abruptly his eyes lowered.

"Look" His voice was so low that Hill had to strain to hear. "I'm...trying. I just can't – God – I can't do this –"

"Trust me," Hill said, getting to his feet just as Dick was turning away. "That's how it works. It has to go both ways. That's how all this started, remember? You trusted me that day you were shot. Trust me now."

Dick remained very still. The large house seemed impossibly silent. Hill feared that if he even breathed too heavily something very delicate, barely real, would be broken irrevocably.

"You're the only person," Dick said at last. "No one else. No one." He glanced at Hill and his eyes were dark and seeking. "What do you want to know?"

"Okay. Let's just...go slow," Hill murmured, not daring to move. "Why did you come here?"

Dick looked mildly taken aback.

"I had something to give you. To look after."

"Where are the other Titans?"

"The tower. I guess." Dick winced.

"How's Beast Boy?"

"Fine."

"You know he had a bad bump on the head the other day."

"Yeah."

"Look, Rich...you probably know where to start with this. I think I'm in over my head." Hill smiled and was rewarded when Dick shrugged and turned a little towards him. After a few seconds of indecision, the youth stepped closer and sunk into one of the seats by the coffee table, dumping his backpack on the floor. Hill tried to hide his relief and lowered himself onto the couch.

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Hill suggested.

"Right. I guess it begins with..." Dick stared down at his hands. "With me leaving Gotham."

Hill nodded. Dick shifted restlessly in his seat and rubbed a hand across his chin. Hill watched the uncharacteristic display with mounting unease.

"It happened a year ago," Dick said unevenly. "I..." He seemed to force himself to meet the doctor's eye. "I shot a man."

Hill stiffened.

"He was going to kill Bruce – Batman. He was going to kill him. There was nothing else I could do." Dick swallowed hard.

Hill remained silent.

"He was going to kill him," Dick repeated. He rubbed his chin again, his hand shaking. "After that...it wasn't the same. It could never go back to how it was with us."

"With you and Bruce?" Hill prompted quietly.

"He – uh – he didn't trust me after that. I could tell."

"Did he know why you did it?"

"Yes. But he doesn't think like that. To him – to him it was a betrayal." Dick closed his eyes. "His parents were murdered – shot. Bruce hates guns. When I shot that man...when I..." Dick shook his head and didn't speak for several seconds.

"It's okay," Hill said. When Dick spoke again his voice was slightly steadier.

"When I shot that man, I became a murderer. I was everything Bruce – hated. When he looked at me all he saw was – the person who'd shot his mother and father –"

"I'm sure that's not the case," Hill breathed.

"No," Dick said sharply. "It is. I know it is. If you could have seen the way he looked at me those last few days..."

"Is that what made you decide to leave?"

"Yes. I couldn't stay. I know the only reason he didn't throw me out in the first place was because of some – some obligation. Maybe he was waiting for me to figure it out for myself."

"Didn't the two of you ever talk about it?"

"Talk?" Dick snorted weakly. "Talking about it doesn't change it."

"Oh, Richard," Hill sighed sadly. "What about Bruce? He let you go?"

"Yes."

"He was happy to?"

"No..." Dick frowned, uncomfortable. "I don't know."

"You see why it's helps to talk?" Hill murmured.

"What does it matter?" Dick said. "Leaving was the only thing I could do."

"What were your plans once you got to Jump?"

"I didn't have any. I hadn't planned on starting a team up. Didn't take long for me to figure out I needed help."

"What about Bruce?"

"What about him?"

"You don't...keep in touch?"

"No."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. Well." Dick was silent for a moment as he considered what to say next. "This thing with Red X."

"Yes?"

"It all started with Slade. You know about him?"

"I've read things in the papers. I know the two of you have some kind of history."

"Cyborg calls it an obsession." Dick's face hardened. "He's probably right. A while back, I got so bent on bringing Slade down...I tried to trick him. Make him think I was on his side."

"Make him think you were a criminal?"

"Red X." Dick nodded. "I didn't tell the others what I was doing. I made a mistake, and it cost me."

"And Slade?"

"Was playing me all along."

"Why didn't Red X make it into the papers?" Hill asked curiously.

"He did – nothing too public though, so the whole thing blew over pretty quickly. I didn't even know Detective Clines had been in charge of investigating Red X until a couple of days ago. I didn't want to think about it. I just wanted things to go back to normal."

"And they did."

"Until that day at Kings Lot. Now everything's about these damn Earthen Lord's Stones..."

"What are they?"

"We don't know, but we've found out that Slade's trying to gather them. So's Damien Codey."

"Gang lord Damien Codey?"

"Yes." Dick was sitting forward in his chair now, something about his posture having subtly shifted so that for a moment Hill had the eerie feeling that he was talking to someone else aside from Richard Grayson. Someone like Robin.

"That day at Kings Lot, I spoke with Slade on a communicator he had planted for the police to find. Clines was there. He overheard Slade say something about me being Red X. Then he tried to arrest me."

"Had you broken the law during your time as Red X?"

"I – yes. I stole information from some computer companies." Dick reddened. "But I was doing it to catch Slade."

"Go on."

"Shepard showed up and talked Clines into letting me off. When I got back to Titans' Tower, I found out about Beast Boy being attacked in Groger's. That same night, someone posing as Red X broke into Jump City Museum and attempted to steal the Earthen Lord's Stone that was on display there.

The break in was caught on camera. The tapes obviously got into Clines' hands and now he thinks I'm active again as Red X."

"But you're not." Something about the way Hill said it made the statement sound like a question. Dick narrowed his eyes.

"No. I'm not."

There was a lengthy pause. Then Hill said,

"I believe you."

"Yeah? Well you're one of the few."

"The others...?"

"They think I'm lying." Dick tried to smile wryly but his throat was close and achy, pain creeping into his voice. "They – uh – they threw me out."

"Oh, lord," Hill muttered. The look his fixed Dick with was intense. "So who hit you?"

Dick's hand flew up immediately to his nose. He touched the tender skill gingerly.

"I'd forgot about that." Dick dropped his hand again.

"Who was it?"

"Cyborg."

"And that happened when? This morning?"

"No. Yesterday. They threw me out this morning." Dick's jaw set in a hard line.

"Where have you been all day?" Hill asked.

"In the park."

"The whole day?"

"I needed somewhere to go until tonight."

"Rich, don't you think you should have gone back to the Tower?" Hill asked gently. "If you just talked to the Titans and explained all this like you just did to me, surely –"

"I can't."

"Don't you see –?"

"Not because I don't want to," Dick interrupted.

"Then why?" Hill asked hopelessly.

"Because...I made a promise."

"A promise?" Hill repeated. "To who?"

Dick abruptly broke eye contact.

"That's something I can't tell you."

Hill sighed.

"Listen, whatever this promise is, you've got to ask yourself, is it worth it? Is it worth losing your team? Is it worth letting this Red X impostor get away?"

"There's a lot more going on with Red X than you know."

"And I suppose you can't tell me about that either."

"I don't know all the facts yet myself."

"Do you know who he is?"

"I can't answer that."

"This is a very dangerous game you're playing."

"I'm not playing a game. I know what I'm doing."

"God, I hope so, Rich. For your sake." Hill sunk back on the couch and fell into a pensive silence as he digested the information Dick had given him. His mind was spinning.

"What do you plan to do?" he asked at length.

"Like I said, tonight I'm meeting with someone. Hopefully I'll get some more answers, work out what I'm going to do."

"I can't let you do this alone," Hill said with feeling. Dick stared at him and, for an instant, the doctor thought he glimpsed a flicker of warmth in the youth's troubled eyes.

"I won't be alone. I know it seems that way..." Dick frowned a little. Maybe it was that way. The concern on Hill's face made him go on: "But I'm not. Once this is over, I'll try and talk to the Titans. I promise."

"I could try and talk to them?"

"No. You can't tell them any of this – please, Frank."

"Alright," Hill said. "But you have to keep talking to me, Richard – tell me what's going on, where you are, that kind of thing. And for god's sake try and sort out your problems with Detective Clines before you do anything else!"

Dick made a noncommittal 'hm' sound. Hill looked on the verge of pursuing the point when the phone suddenly started ringing.

"Back in a minute." Hill stood up and disappeared behind the stairs. Dick supposed the phone was in his office. The ringing ceased and the youth could make out the muffled sound of the doctor's voice, though he made no effort to eavesdrop. Hill returned quickly to the front room after an evidently short conversation. He looked a little flustered.

"I completely forgot about Claire!"

"I'm sorry –"

"No, not your fault. I was supposed to call her..."

"Well, I should be leaving now anyway," Dick said, rising from his seat.

"But where are you going? I thought you were only meeting your mystery friend later."

"At eight. I've got to get to the Burnigan Roofs though," Dick explained. He was opening the compartment of his utility belt which held the Earthen Lord's Stone. It was now a murky rust colour, its glimmer gone.

"You're going as...you?" Hill asked uncertainly.

"I was planning on changing. Do you mind if I use a room?"

"No, go ahead."

"Here." Dick held out the Earthen Lord's Stone to the doctor. "It's the one from Jump Museum."

"How did you get a hold of it?" Hill asked, accepting the Stone carefully and holding it up to the light.

"It's a bit of a long story. Just take my word for it that I didn't steal it. I need you to look after it – keep it somewhere safe until I get back."

"I think I can do that," Hill said slowly. Dick sensed that the doctor had more questions for him, but there was no time. The youth was already heading for the stairs, backpack in hand. He hesitated once he reached the upper landing, then turned back to look down at the doctor.

"Uh, thanks, Frank."

"It's okay. Just be careful."

Dick nodded.

"I'll try."

Chapter Text

The Slave of the Stones

The Burnigan Roofs. It used to be fashionable. They had dances there in the1950s. But now the place was an unkempt mess. The fringe of grass that lay around the edge of the stretch of promenade hadn't been mown in years. There were a few trees, though they looked depressing and skeletal, wrapped in shabby vines. The lanterns that hung down over the roof of the café had fizzled out long ago. The sign above the door was hanging precariously by one rusty chain; paint peeling and writing barely legible. The high windows either side of the entrance glowed with a dirty orange light. The place still got customers: men with slurring voices and bloodshot eyes, men who paid for drink and clumsy games of pool. They kept the place going.

Robin watched the door from his spot between two trees. It was 8:05 and he was thinking about going inside. Uneasiness warred with anticipation. What was he supposed to do now? Had Batman said to meet inside? Or out here? He'd definitely said eight o'clock. Hadn't he? Robin shifted his weight between his feet. He folded his arms, then unfolded them to check his watch, then folded them again.

"You look like you've been stood up."

Robin tensed, forcing himself not to jerk around. Too unfocused – too distracted. He turned slowly, not allowing his posture to change even as he caught sight of the girl – Red X – standing close by.

"I'm not that late, you know," she said. Robin narrowed his eyes.

"Where is he?"

"You mean Batman?" The girl waited for Robin to reply. When it was clear he wasn't going to, she said,

"Uh, he just sent me." Her voice wasn't minced like Red X's should have been. It was clear and quick. The mask had no distorter. Robin frowned.

"He said he'd meet me."

"Yeah. He couldn't make it."

"What do you mean 'couldn't make it'?"

"Just that." The girl straightened. "He's got a lot going on tonight. You'll get to see him later."

"I'll see him now." Robin took a sudden step towards her. "Tell me where to find him."

"He told me to talk to you," the girl said levelly.

"I don't care what he told you."

"Can you just take it easy –?"

"Where is he?"

"Look – you said you wanted answers? I can give you answers," the girl said. Robin stilled, gazed hard at Red X's inscrutable face.

"Okay. Who are you?"

"You already know my name."

"I've forgotten."

"Nice."

"Well?"

"It's Isileet."

"Right. Isileet. Why are you working with Batman?"

"That's…sort of a long story…"

"What are the Earthen Lord's Stones?" Robin demanded. Isileet tilted her head slightly to one side, the movement lending the blank features of her mask some impression of life.

"That's part of the same story. It might take a while to tell."

"So start telling. You're wasting time."

Isileet snorted softly.

"Are you always this blunt?"

"Are you always this evasive?"

"Fine. Sorry. I don't mean to be." Isileet hooked her thumbs on her utility belt and let her arms hang loose from her shoulders. Robin couldn't be certain in the fading light, but he suspected she was appraising him during the brief silence that followed. All at once he felt awkward and did not know why.

"I'm Harachim," Isileet said finally.

"Slave of the Stones, or something," Robin said.

"Yes. My family carved the Stones twelve thousand years ago. We sold our freedom to give them power. The Harachim made vows of blood to serve the Stones."

"Serve?"

Isileet nodded. "We belong to the Earthen Lord's Stones. We're bound to them. It's kind of… our destiny."

"Oh." Robin didn't quite know how to react to all this. The way Isileet spoke, she could well have been making it all up as she went along.

"There are four Stones. Each carries the essence of one of the elements: Earth, Air, Fire, Water. Once a Stone is Awakened, its power is unlocked and can be harnessed for a short time. When all four Stones are brought together…that's when things really start to get interesting."

"A Stone for each of the elements…" Robin murmured. "And what exactly happens? When they're brought together?"

"That is one thing I can't predict. They haven't been together for over ten thousand years. But if you stick around you might find out."

"I can assume whatever happens is dangerous? Otherwise Codey and Slade would have no interest in the Stones."

"I'll let you have that," Isileet agreed.

"It takes a Harachim to get the Stones to work?"

"To Awaken the Stones," Isileet corrected.

"You said 'we'. So there are other Harachim. Members of your family?"

"Actually…" Isileet cleared her throat. "I'm the last. As far as I'm aware there are no others. What I know I learnt from my mother before she passed away."

Robin said nothing to that.

"I've always known what I am, though," Isileet said. "I've always felt the pull. You know, of the Stones."

"How does Batman come into all of this?" Robin asked shortly.

"He found me. Came and asked me to help him."

"When?"

"Few weeks ago."

"What made you agree?"

"Come on," Isileet laughed. "Like you'd say no to that guy. Besides, this is what I do. It's my purpose. Me and Batman have a common goal, we're doing each other a favour, right?"

"You think Batman wants to bring the Stones together? To 'Awaken' them or whatever?"

"The stones need to be kept out of the hands of your neighbourhood gang lords."

"And he didn't come to me for help because…?"

"We've been through this."

"One more time then."

"Because," Isileet said patiently, "one of your team may be working with Slade. Batman couldn't risk involving you."

Robin fought to keep his expression indifferent at this.

"So, it's just been me and him up until now. I'm – ah – actually kind of glad you found out." Isileet fiddled with the fastener of a compartment of her belt. "I mean, Batman's cool, but…it'll just be nice. You know?"

"Not really," Robin said, more harshly than he'd intended. "I haven't agreed to anything yet. Don't think I'm working with you all of a sudden. I'm not even sure I trust you."

Isileet nudged a clump of weeds with the toe of her boot.

"Okay," she said in a slight rush. "I can understand that. I just thought…" She trailed off, embarrassed. Robin felt a little ashamed.

"I need all the information first," he said in what he hoped was a softer tone. "I know you tried to lift one Stone from Jump Museum and one from Codey's mansion –"

"And failed both those times," Isileet reflected.

"Do you and Batman have any Stones?"

"We've got two."

"Two?" Robin was surprised.

"I might just be 'some crummy thief', but I can track the Stones better than anybody. And Batman has his moments, as I'm sure you're well aware."

Robin didn't react to that.

"You got one Stone from Silvia Dell's apartment," he said with certainty.

"In Cradle Building?"

"Yes."

"Then sure. That was where we found Mithard."

"Who?"

"Mithard. It's the name of the Stone of the Earth," Isileet explained.

"And the other Stone I'm guessing you got from Gotham Museum?"

"You're sharp." The girl conceded.

"Which Stone was it?"

"Havah."

"Translation?"

"Air."

"So that leaves Fire and Water."

"Agnar: Fire, and Mairee: Water."

"Which does Codey have?"

"Mairee. As far as I know, he got it through an auction."

"And the last Stone?" Robin prompted.

"Agnar. I almost had it at Jump Museum, but it's been moved since then. I think someone must have taken it. It's still somewhere in Jump – I know that much."

So the Stone Robin had left with Hill was Agnar – the Stone of Fire. He recalled the way it had blazed ruby-red in Raven's hands the day before. He thought about telling Isileet that the Stone was safe, that she had nothing to worry about, but something held him back.

"At Cradle Building," Robin said instead. "A man was killed – thrown through a window. His name was Donald Redfield. Ring any bells?"

"No…"

"He's one of Codey's men."

"What then, you think I killed him or something?"

"What happened when you broke into the apartment?"

"I Awoke Mithard, then I left."

"That's it? You didn't see Redfield?" Robin asked.

"No, I didn't."

"That makes no sense…"

"Yeah, well. Knowing Codey he probably paid to have his own man done in. He's a real piece of work that guy. And he's got Mairee."

"The Stone of Water?"

"Yes. It's one of the stronger elements. Robin, you don't want to find out what he could do if he worked out how to unlock the Stone's power."

"What are you suggesting?" Robin said sharply.

"Just…think about it. I could use some help tonight."

"Tonight? What's tonight?"

"Tonight's my second shot at knocking over Codey's and grabbing Mairee."

"What? The place will be crawling –"

"Then help me."

"This is insane," Robin muttered. "You want me to steal?"

"Oh, don't act all offended like it's beneath you." Isileet plucked significantly at the costume she wore. Robin's cheeks coloured.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped.

"Sure, sure. Look, are you in or are you out?"

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"You'd really try again on your own if I said no?"

"What is this, a guy thing? Are you trying to get me to beg you?"

"No – you're just – this is insane," Robin said again. "I can't!"

"You can't." Isileet turned and stooped, collecting something from the ground behind her. When she moved back around Robin saw that she was holding a black bag. She unzipped it and reached in, pulling out something silky and dark.

"But he can," she said. Robin stared. In her hand was a second Red X mask.

"You've got another costume?"

"Can't be too careful." Isileet's smile carried over into her voice. "What do you say? Two Red X's. Robin's name won't have to suffer – and you're only helping me take back what's already mine – from an unscrupulous gangster I might add."

"Isileet –" Robin was shaking his head.

"You want Slade to get there first or something?"

Robin stiffened. There was a long pause, the raucous sounds of drunken laughter drifting over from the café.

Isileet extended her arm slowly, holding the bag out to Robin. The youth could just barely make out her eyes in the dark. There was a gleam of challenge in their brown depths.

Robin felt a thin smile tugging at his lips.

He reached for the bag.

"Two Red X's, huh?"

Chapter Text

Partners in Crime

"Quick. Clean. We do this right or we get shot."

"Got it."

"Let's go through it again."

"Robin."

"We do this right –"

"Or get shot, yeah, yeah," Isileet said. She pulled out a data pad from her belt and flicked it on. A hologram sprang up detailing the layout of Codey's mansion – an immense compound shaped like an H on its side.

"Go ahead," Robin prompted.

"We take the back stairs. There's a blind spot between the cameras coving the garage and the work shops. We snip the circuiting on the garage window and that'll take us into the main building. Then we pay a visit to the guard room." Isileet thumbed a button on the side of the pad and the hologram shifted to show a detailed segment of the schematics. "Next we've got the house keeper's room, and the kitchens. We'll have to work a little magic on the cameras. Then we head for this set of stairs…to the basement."

"Significance of the basement?"

"It's where Codey's got his vault. That's where the Stone will be."

"Right." Robin nodded. "And only one of us can be in the basement – the other has to cause a distraction."

"Figures I'd wind up the distraction," Isileet muttered.

"You have to keep Codey's men preoccupied long enough for me to get into the vault and steal the Stone."

"As long as I keep them busy, no one'll be paying any attention to the vault."

"That's right. You'll herd as many men as you can down this way." Robin indicated on the hologram the stretch of driveway which ran between the garage and the back entrance. "I want them as far away as from the basement as possible. Remember to watch your back, they'll be coming from multiple directions."

"Sure. And while I fire up the wild goose chase…"

"…I'll grab the Stone, slip out the front door."

"Then I disappear."

"And I take the wheel. I'll set off some flash grenades on the green to get the guards' attention. That's when you make your escape. By the time they've reached the front, I'll be gone as well."

"They won't believe their eyes," Isileet chuckled.

Robin tilted his head so that their gazes locked through the slits in their masks. "Quick. Clean."

"As always." Isileet wiggled the data pad between her fingers. The blue-ish light of the hologram swung between them, lending wild animation the stark white lines of their skull faces so that they appeared to be leering at one another. Robin glanced away. Looking at Isileet felt eerie now, like looking at a reflection of himself.

"Shut it off. Someone might see."

"Hm," Isileet sounded amused. "Yes, sir." The hologram disappeared and darkness returned.

"Time?" Robin could have checked himself, but he wanted Isileet to know as well. He saw the face of her digital watch light up.

"9:45."

Robin nodded. They fell silent. After several seconds Isileet shifted into a kneeling position. Her legs had begun to cramp. They were crouched near a tall hedge at the back of the mansion. A fountain gurgled somewhere close by. Robin had positioned them as far back as he could, but the sound of water still murmured, nagging at him in the stillness. He was waiting for the crunch of gravel, the creak and snap of a twig, the muted rhythm of voices. He knew the rotation times of the guards, knew roughly the paths they would patrol. But he was expecting the worst.

"You know, this isn't how I'd imagined it," Isileet whispered. Robin turned his head towards her.

"Are you having second thoughts?" he said sharply.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

"What?"

"It's not like I thought you'd enjoy this or anything. I just…I don't know."

"What?" Robin said again. "I'm not living up to your expectations?"

"No. Not that. I mean I get that this is hard for you."

Robin didn't reply. Isileet cleared her throat and went on:

"I just thought maybe you wouldn't mind breaking the law so much. Under the circumstances. Kind of be a relief for you or something –"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you've been working with the Titans all this time. That's got to be a lot of pressure –"

"You think you know about any of that?" Robin interrupted. Isileet sighed quietly.

"I'm not trying to offend you."

"I'm not offended. Just don't act like you know me. You don't know me."

"I'd like to," Isileet said. There was a strained pause.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because we're not friends. We aren't going to be."

"You've got friends already I guess," Isileet said.

Robin narrowed his eyes.

"This is unnecessary," he said.

"We're just talking, aren't we?"

"Let's just stop talking then."

"Robin." Isileet's voice sounded closer. Robin moved back onto his heels, checked his watch.

"It's almost ten. We should start moving."

Not bothering to wait for a response, he darted out across the lawn, heading for the brick wall of the garage. He leapt and vaulted smoothly up onto the even slant of the roof. A driveway lay below, ending at the mansion's rear wall. Robin listened for the soft flap of Isileet's cape before turning to address her.

"Get the window open. I'll be right back," he whispered, then sprang down from the garage and flitted across the driveway. He located a fire hose at the mansion's rear, just as the holographic blueprints had promised, and swiftly uncoiled it from a reel on the wall. He checked that the nozzle was open before tossing it out onto the drive. He glanced briefly upwards and noted that overhead the sky was empty and cold.

A quick, clear whistle from close by made Robin tense before he realised it was Isileet. He leapt noiselessly back up onto the garage roof and spotted his partner over at the far end.

"Come on." Isileet dropped down behind the wall and Robin followed, swinging himself through the open window beneath. The inside of the garage was no warmer than it had been outside. Robin replaced the window in its frame and paused to glance around. The space they found themselves in was unlit, though undoubtedly large. The sounds of their footfalls echoed very slightly and Robin was glad to be out of the room and in a narrow passageway with carpeting underfoot. They came upon a steep flight of steps and climbed them in silence until they reached a wide landing. In front of them was the glass sliding door, the guard room that lay beyond obscured behind a wall of grubby Venetian blinds.

"Should be two guys in there now," Isileet said in a low voice.

"Ready?" Robin murmured, suppressing a shiver of anticipation.

"Let's do it," Isileet said.

Robin crept stealthily towards the door, tilting his head to peek through a gap in the blinds. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the greenish glow of several monitors mounted on the wall inside. Catching no sign of movement, Robin eased nearer until he could see what he needed to. A small table in the middle of the room – playing cards, beer cans, an open box of pizza, and a gun scattered across its surface. Two guards sat in chairs either side, staring at the TV.

Robin placed both hands lightly on the glass of the door. He tested the wheels on the door's base and felt a rush of satisfaction when they made no sound. The door slid smoothly open and noises from the TV – clapping and voices – drifted out onto the landing, making Robin's heart speed up a little. He carefully unclipped a gas pellet from his belt and shifted around so that he'd have room. He drew back his arm, took aim –

"So you think we'll get Slade this time?" The guard's voice was muffled and, as he turned, Robin saw his profile clearly in the light of the television screen. His jaws were working on a slice of pizza.

"I hope so. Otherwise the boss isn't going to be pleased," his companion replied, not bothering to look away from the game show.

"You're telling me. You hear about what he did to Ramón?"

"Yeah. Poor bastard."

"Well" The guard swallowed thickly, then dusted off his hands and leant forward to reach for a can of beer. "Slade's had it this time. Him and his little Red X buddy are going down tonight. They won't know what hit them."

"No they will not," the other guy laughed roughly. They lapsed into silence, the cheerful din of the TV filling in the pause.

"Robin – what are you waiting for?" Isileet whispered.

"Didn't you hear that?" Robin said.

"Yeah, I heard it. But this isn't the time. We're here for the Stone, remember?"

"They might be able to tell us where Slade is."

"What are you suggesting? We go in there and question them?"

"If I can find Slade –"

"When we talk to Batman, you'll see the whole Slade thing will be sorted out. Let's just do this like we planned?" Isileet said. When Robin hesitated, she reached out and touched his arm. "Quick and clean, right?"

"Right," Robin muttered. He turned back to the guard room, paused only for an instant longer, and then hurled the gas pellet in through the gap in the door. It impacted with the side of the table, instantly exploding in a cloud of red. The guards bellowed and lurched to their feet, crimson smoke engulfing them. The air remained clogged for several seconds before abruptly clearing to reveal the two men slumped and unconscious on the floor. Robin pushed the door open wider and stepped into room, Isileet close behind. He hastened towards the electronic console set into the wall beneath the monitors and hurriedly pulled a small, round device from his belt. Sliding an access panel aside, he slotted the gadget neatly in amongst the circuiting and began punching in codes.

"How's it coming?" Isileet said. She had managed to roll the bodies out of sight and tie them up beneath the table. She was now keeping watch at the far door.

"I've hacked the primary system and installed a loop in the cameras down the hall. Just let me take care of the ones in the kitchen and on the basement stairs." Robin frowned, his fingers flying over the console. "It looks like the basement's system can only be disabled from inside. You've got the code for the vault?"

"Yeah. As long as they haven't changed it."

"That's encouraging." Robin glanced briefly up. "So what went wrong last time you tried this?"

"Didn't have enough time."

"It's a good thing you'll be here to distract the guards then."

"Yeah. And with the cameras looped we won't be getting any unwanted attention until we're good and ready," Isileet said.

"Done." Robin disconnected his hacker and started down the hallway. Isileet paused to turn up the volume on the TV before following.

The hallway was dark and quiet. They came to a large set of doors and then found themselves in an impressive kitchen. It was empty and the glare of the fluorescent working lights showed the makings for a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast lying on the stainless steel work surface that ran down the middle. Endless cabinets and cupboards lined the walls on either side. The door at the end of the kitchen led them into the main entrance hall of the house.

It was an immense, circular space. In the centre of the furthest wall, Robin could see the door he had opened the night before. It was made of heavy oak and now tightly closed. Two marble staircases echoed the shape of the room as they curved up to the next level. Robin and Isileet had entered directly behind one of them. There in shadows Robin could make out the head of a smaller staircase which spiralled down through the floor.

He stepped boldly out into the main entrance and, glancing swiftly from side, swept over to the door, drew back the bolts and unlocked it. He hastened back to where Isileet stood looking down the staircase.

"Are you ready for this?" he whispered.

"Wait," Isileet said. Robin stilled, glanced at her expectantly.

"Let me get the Stone."

"Isileet, just follow the plan," Robin said through clenched teeth.

"I want to do this."

"We haven't got time to –"

"I know what you think, but I can do it. Just give me a chance."

"If this is about proving yourself –"

"Do you think I can't do it?" Isileet said fiercely.

"What is wrong with you?" Robin hissed.

"Give me this. Come on, Robin. My whole life is tied to the Stones."

"Fine." Robin moved suddenly back from the stairs. "You'll need to hack the –"

"I know, I've done it before." Isileet started down the steps.

"I'll cover you. Once you've set the alarm, find somewhere to hide up here until I've got the guards far enough away. There – that coat rack looks good." Robin spoke in a rapid whisper, indicating the gap behind the stairs where the rack stood.

"Okay, Robin," Isileet said.

"So hit the alarm as soon as you get down there. And don't call any attention to yourself until your five minutes are up –"

"Okay." Isileet waved her hand at him, already half-way down the stairs. "Go on. I'll see you soon."

Robin stared after her disappearing form for a moment, then, with a hopeless shake of his head, hurried back towards the kitchen. He left the door wide open behind him, and walked to the far end of the room. He'd be ready to escape down the corridor to the guard room when he needed to. He waited. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. What was Isileet doing?

Then suddenly all hell broke loose. In the empty kitchen, the sound of the alarm bells was deafening. The floodlights in the courtyard blazed into life and there was a sound of muffled shouting from the spiral staircase. Robin sprang up onto the kitchen counter, catching up an enormous cooking pot in one hand. He stood there very still, holding his breath and listening. He relaxed slightly at the faint sound of Isileet's feet as she ran nimbly up the stairs and slid behind the coat rack.

As the first of the guards emerged into the entrance hall, he hurled the pan towards them and launched himself off the counter and down the hallway.

"There he is! Red X is in the kitchen! He's out the basement! He's out the basement!" The guards were in hot pursuit, kicking the cooking pot out of the way. "Damn it! He's fast!" A burst of fire shattered the tiles of the kitchen wall but Robin was long gone.

He ran along the landing, throwing down a fire extinguisher as he passed, then darting through the guard room. He hurled the table and chairs down before diving out the doorway. Leaping clear over the flight of stairs, Robin landed rolling on the passage below. Then he was back in the garage, now harshly lit by the floodlights outside. He smashed a grappling hook through the window just as he heard the guards lumbering down the steps after him. His cape furled loosely about his middle as he soared onto the roof and then leapt down onto the drive. He caught one unsuspecting guard with a kick to the throat then sprinted to the rear wall of the mansion.

The hose still lay limp and heavy on the drive. Robin hit the wall and quickly found the stopcock protruding from the brick. As he shot up another grapple to the roof, the uncoiled fire hose began to gush water, writhing like an anaconda and turning the steep stone of the drive into a slip and slide. Bullets cracked on the stone around him as the cable launched him up the wall. Robin swung up onto the roof and planted his feet firmly, neatly unbuckling his grapple. He listened to the sounds from below as the guards tried to fight their way past the writhing rubber snake, slipping and falling in the water.

Someone must have paused in the guard room during the chase because loudspeakers began calling the outside guards round to the back of the house.

"Intruder on the roof of the kitchen wing. The kitchen wing. All staff to apprehend."

Robin ran crouching along the roof above the kitchen. Rattles of automatic fire broke the tiles behind him and he could feel splinters of brick snatch at his cloak but the bullets themselves seemed way off. He could see the guards running across the courtyard below. Two men were staggering out of the garage under the weight of an enormous ladder as he crouched next to the parapet, and tugged a magnesium flare and a smoke grenade from his utility belt.

He cracked the percussion cap of the flare onto the edge of the wall and threw it out over the back of the courtyard. As its tiny parachute opened, he could see the men below taking shelter behind urns and statues.

He pulled the pin on the smoke grenade and watched as it landed in the middle of the courtyard, sparking ominously.

"It's a grenade! Get down," someone shouted and the guards flattened themselves on the ground. Except for two, who decided that the fish pond was a safer bet.

Robin smiled mirthlessly and made his way over the ridge of the roof as the sound of coughing and curses indicated that the smoke was doing its work in the still air. He hooked a grapple over the parapet on the other side of the building and quickly dropped down to the ground. The voices of the security men shouting from further back and the sound of car engines starting up told him that this part of the operation, at least, had gone without a hitch.

The blare of a new broadcast over the speakers made his head jerk up:

"All staff abandon kitchen wing, intruder is in basement – repeat: intruder is in basement. All staff to apprehend –"

"What?" Robin hissed, jerking the sleeve of his suite aside and staring down at his watch. It was still way too early. Had Isileet been caught? Robin stood undecided for only a few seconds before taking off back the way he had come. The shadowy forms of men were everywhere now, cursing breathlessly and jogging as best they could with their automatic weapons in their hands. They were heading obediently around the side of the building towards the front green.

Back on the kitchen roof, Robin put on a desperate burst of speed, his feet light and swift on the bullet-marked tile. As he rounded a corner he saw the green some way ahead, lit an unearthly yellow in the glare of the floodlights. He skidded to a halt and stood panting on the brink of the roof. There was no way Isileet would risk the green – it was far too exposed.

Just as he finished the thought, Robin heard an eruption of weapons fire and ducked reflexively before realising he was not the target of the attack. Below on the green, a gang of guards were charging out of the front entrance, guns alight. Robin's eyes flew ahead. A cold weight hit him as he caught sight of a small figure half-running, half-staggering across the green.

"Isileet," Robin groaned, already firing his grapple at the adjacent wall and leaping from the roof with no particular plan of action in mind. Whatever he did it would have to be quick before the place was swarming with men. As fast as the ground was coming towards him, as fast as the details of the guards' individual faces were becoming clear, Robin was mentally scanning his arsenal for anything extreme enough to defuse the disastrous situation.

He had a few final flares and a smoke grenade left.

His feet hit the ground with a solid thud and he straightened to meet the horde of mystified men who almost surrounded him. He snatched all four grenades from his belt and hurled them with a grunt at the oncoming figures. The blast of light was blinding and Robin flipped backwards with his eyes firmly shut. Somehow he landed, found his feet, and kept running. When at last he looked up he just barely managed to swerve before collided with Isileet. She staggered to a halt before him.

"What are you doing?" Robin tried to bellow, but his lungs were burning.

"I'm sorry – two camera circuits –" Isileet was almost doubled over holding her side.

"Are you hurt?"

"Took a kick –" Isileet wheezed. "But I got – the Stone!"

"Come on then!" Robin grabbed her by the arm and pulled her onwards. The glare of the floodlights was fading behind them as they fled up the driveway and into the trees.

Chapter Text

The Raven Awakes

The common room was dark. Beast Boy sat alone at the table, an open can of peaches in front of him. He'd peeled off and shredded the can's label a while ago and little pieces of paper now lay in a small pile near his right hand. Despondently, Beast Boy jabbed the peach slices with his fork.

"Let the good times roll," he muttered under his breath.

From behind him came a sudden hiss and creak as the front door opened. Beast Boy turned sharply in his seat and forced a smile as he saw Starfire step into the room.

"Star! Hey. Where've you been?"

"I have been walking outside."

"It's a little late, isn't it?"

"Perhaps." The Tamaranian girl's cheerful tone sounded faintly strained. She took a seat opposite Beast Boy and leant forward, opening her arms wide. A bundle of flowers and weeds tumbled onto the tabletop.

"Wow, what're all these for?" Beast Boy blinked curiously and slid his peaches to one side.

"These are the natural ingredients I have gathered to create a Bardonoff," Starfire said, sorting carefully through her amassment of foliage.

"Oh…" Beast Boy frowned.

"Bardonoff are gifts of revival," the girl explained. "On my world, when a person is unable to awaken from sleep, Bardonoff are brought by friends and loved ones. If made correctly, a Bardonof can rouse a person from the deepest of slumbers." Starfire spoke quickly as she arranged the various flowers into different groups.

"Can these things bring the dead back to life?" Beast Boy's eyes widened a fraction.

"I…do not believe that a Bardonoff could accomplish that."

"But you think it'll help wake Raven up?"

"I hope so," Starfire murmured. She sat back and surveyed her work critically for a moment before plucking up a bendy vine-flower and holding it gently between her fingers. She squinted her eyes and stared fixedly at the flower. After several seconds had passed, Beast Boy cleared his throat.

"Uh, so what're you doing now?"

Starfire ignored his question, her focus unwavering. After what felt to Beast Boy like a long time, the girl sighed and closed her eyes, lowering the flower.

"Preparing the ingredients for the Bardonoff requires much concentration," Starfire said. Beast Boy snorted quietly and reached again for his peaches.

"So you just look at a bunch of flowers for ages and it makes the person wake up?"

"No, there is much more to Bardonoff than that." Starfire sounded a little stung.

"Like what?" Beast Boy asked around a mouthful of fruit.

"You must transfer your thoughts into the flower. Once it has absorbed enough energy, it is woven with others and the Bardonoff begins to take shape."

"Uh-huh."

"Do you wish to help me?" Starfire asked eagerly. Before Beast Boy could answer, a loud thump was heard from overhead. He and Starfire stared up at the ceiling.

"Star…which room is above here?"

"Raven's."

Needing to exchange no further words, the two companions rose simultaneously from their seats and hurried towards the staircase. Halfway up, Starfire's feet left the steps and she flew swiftly, following the bend of the wall whilst Beast Boy ran beneath her. No one had bothered to turn on the lights in the hallway and consequently the landing was in complete darkness.

Starfire landed in front of Raven's room, curling her hand around the doorknob. She glanced nervously back at Beast Boy and was encouraged by the sight of a green lion crouched and ready behind her. Taking a slow breath, Starfire twisted the knob and pushed the door gingerly inwards, grimacing as the hinges whined loudly.

"Friend Raven?" Starfire called into the darkness. She heard Beast Boy's growl, low and wary. The silence stretched and Starfire cleared her throat.

"Friend Raven, have you awakened–?"

"Starfire." The voice that spoke was quiet and collected and assuredly Raven's. In another instant, both the light switch in the hallway and the one inside the room clicked on and the shadows vanished to reveal Raven walking a little unsteadily towards the door.

"Oh, Raven!" Starfire darted forward to stand before the other girl, holding her by the shoulders and smiling with relief. "You are indeed awake!"

"Man, Star, I guess your flower-power-healy-thing worked," Beast Boy said in amazement. His gaze drifted past Raven as he stepped further into the bedroom, coming to land on a scattered heap of books and papers which lay strewn across the floor. Beast Boy glanced at the left-hand wall where an imposing bookcase stood, its shelves all bare.

"What the heck happened here?"

"Oh my!" Starfire had just noticed the chaotic mess herself.

"I was dreaming," Raven said shortly, barely looking over her shoulder. Her appearance seemed unusual without the characteristic cloak spilling down from her shoulders, yet, despite her altered attire and sleep-rumpled hair, the girl's demeanour was centred, her dark gaze engaged and alert as ever.

"I'm assuming we escaped Codey's grounds unscathed?" Raven said.

"Um, sure, asides from the whole comatose bit you pulled," Beast Boy said. "Kinda freaked us out back there."

"I was careless," Raven said. She paused, then set her shoulders as if preparing herself. "Did you get the Stone?"

"Huh?" Beast Boy cocked his head.

"What stone is it you speak of?" Starfire asked. Raven looked from one to the other, whatever faint expression of hope that had been on her face now closing. Abruptly, she stepped back.

"Raven?" Starfire said worriedly. The other girl did not respond, instead going to a large wooden desk at the other side of the room and retrieved her cloak from where it had been draped over the back of a chair.

"We have to go back for the Stone," Raven said.

"Go back? To Codey's?" Beast Boy spluttered.

"Yes." Raven swung her cloak around her shoulders, fastening the heavy broach clasp at her collar bone.

"But – why? That's crazy!" Beast Boy said.

"There isn't enough time to explain. Just believe me – we can't allow another Stone to fall into Codey's hands."

"What do you mean, 'another Stone'? I thought Codey only had the one he'd got in the auction you and Robin were –" Beast Boy winced. There was an awkward moment of silence. Raven's eyes narrowed.

"Codey does only have one Stone, but now he may also have the Stone we found at the museum."

"How did that happen –?" Beast Boy exclaimed, but Raven was already stepping past him into the hallway.

"We need to move quickly – because of me it may already be too late," Raven said.

"What about Cy?" Beast Boy said, hurrying after her. Raven paused.

"Where is he?"

"Up in the Lantern House."

"Then get him." Raven turned and started once more for the stairs, but Beast Boy sprang in front of her.

"Will you just wait a second?"

"Beast Boy, we can't afford to wait," Raven said, an undertone of irritation creeping into her voice. Beast Boy glanced despairingly back at Starfire.

"There's something we need to tell you, okay?"

"What is it?" Raven snapped.

"You're awake." The sound of Cyborg's voice caused the trio to turn. The youth stood on the lowest step of the staircase that led to the upper landing. "Are you feeling okay, Rae?"

"I'm fine," Raven said dismissively. She was about to say more when Cyborg started speaking again.

"We should do this upstairs." His gaze lingered on the faces of his team mates before he turned and began climbing the steps. Raven shook her head very slightly.

"Cyborg, this is –"

"Upstairs," Cyborg repeated over his shoulder. Raven stood for a moment in stiff consideration, then quickly swept down the hallway and up the staircase. Beast Boy and Starfire followed in her wake.

Cyborg met Raven's eyes only briefly as they reached the upper level and he opened the Lantern House door, standing to one side to let the others past.

"Do, uh, you guys wanna sit down?" Cyborg muttered.

"What's this about?" Raven asked bluntly, folding her arms across her front.

"Raven…you've been out of it for two days," Cyborg said. Raven's brows dropped – the only outward sign of her surprise.

"I see," she said quietly.

"Some stuff's changed since then."

Raven said nothing, waiting. Cyborg walked slowly towards the table, stopping behind the chair at the head. He raised a hand and patted the back of the chair, twice, before resting his palm flat and heavy on it. His eyes rose and locked with Raven's.

"Robin's gone."

Chapter Text

The Last Stone

The curving driveway that led up to Francis Hill's house had never looked so inviting. Cheerful electric garden lanterns in neat lines on the lawn either side led the way in a welcoming procession to the front entrance. Robin halted a moment on the doorstep; taking note of the building's darkened windows as well as the absence of Hill's car from the drive. Robin glanced over his shoulder in search of Isileet. During their frantic journey to the doctor's home the girl had never fallen far behind, yet now, upon crossing the threshold of the garden gateway, she hung back, either in exhaustion or trepidation – Robin could not tell. They had not uttered a single word to one another since leaving Codey's grounds, not even when they had stopped off at the Burnigan Roofs to retrieve Isileet's black duffle bag, which Robin had wordlessly volunteered to carry. He now slung the bag down from his shoulder and waited until his breathing had settled before finally turning to address his partner.

"What the hell was that back there?"

Isileet took several slow steps towards him, her hand pressed rigidly against her side and her chest still heaving from the exertion of their flight.

"It's called – a successful mission," she said breathlessly while pulling her mask off with her free hand.

"It's called nearly getting us both killed. Why wasn't that extra camera circuit on the schematics?" Robin angrily followed suit, tugging the Red X mask off his head with more force than was necessary. He had left on the Robin mask and suit beneath the Red X costume. His own colourful cape and utility belt were in the duffle bag.

"It wasn't on the schematics because Codey probably had it newly installed after my first try," Isileet said.

"And it didn't occur to you to check for updated security? What if he'd had the Stone removed from the basement altogether – what would you have done then?" Robin jammed his Red X mask and cape into the bag.

"I had no way of finding out," Isileet insisted. "Why are you making such a big deal of this? We got the Stone, neither of us is dead. Mission accomplished." She moved away and went to lean her back against the frame of the front door.

"It could easily have ended badly," Robin said after a slight pause. "We made that plan for a reason. You jeopardised everything going after the Stone yourself. I don't know when you got this idea into your head that you need to prove something to me–"

"Will you get off my back for a second?" Isileet cut in sharply. Robin clamped his jaw shut and folded his arms. Isileet studied him for a moment and then snorted quietly. "You got a thrill out of tonight, the same as I did. It's normal. So just quit taking your guilt out on me."

"I'm not –"

"Yes, you are."

"Look, whatever," Robin muttered. "You can learn from your own mistakes."

The two teens fell into a stony silence as Robin finished changing and deposited the duffle bag at Isileet's feet. He relaxed a little at the familiar weight of his cape and the cool night air against his flushed cheeks, though he refused to settle, pacing restlessly back and forth before the doorway.

"What are we doing here?" Isileet asked at length, glancing around as if only just noticing the building at her back. "Haven't we done enough breaking and entering for one night?"

"We're not here to break in," Robin said shortly. "We're meeting someone."

"Doesn't look like they're home."

"No," Robin agreed, feeling a sudden twinge of foreboding. He shot Isileet an uneasy look. "You still have the Stone?"

The girl seemed to pause as if on the verge of saying something sarcastic, but thinking better of it, only nodded.

"Look, have you got something else you could wear?" Robin asked.

"Don't trust your friend to keep a secret?"

"No. I'd just rather he didn't know about you being Red X," Robin said. Isileet sighed and reached for the fasteners on her cape. She carefully folded the silky material into the duffle bag along with her mask and then drew out what looked like a red sweater. As she finished pulling it on over her head, Robin saw her wince and touch her ribs gingerly.

"How're you feeling?" Robin asked, his voice softened for the first time.

"Fine. Now, seriously, what are we doing here? Batman gave me orders to get back to the warehouse as soon as we got Mairee."

"It'll have to wait," Robin said. He frowned. "You and Batman. You'll have three Stones now?"

"Havah, Mithard, and now Mairee," Isileet recited, ticking the off each on her fingers.

"Earth, Air, and Water. One to go. Not bad," Robin murmured, watching Isileet's features closely in the dimness.

"Well, thank you. A compliment at last!" Isileet's lips twisted in a half-smile and she shook her head. "Man. I can't believe how much alike the two of you are."

"What?"

"You and Batman. It's like – I mean, you could almost be his son." Isileet lent forward slightly and Robin then found himself the subject of scrutiny. "Am I right?"

Robin gave her a stern look of warning.

"Alright. Keep your secrets." Isileet shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

"What are your plans for the Stones once you've collected all four?"

"That's…well, the important thing is that they're kept away from psychopaths like Codey."

"And Slade."

"Batman said he would fill you in on the grand plan. If we ever get round to meeting with him that is," Isileet groused quietly.

"Trust me, it's important we meet with my friend first," Robin said, paused, then added, "He's a doctor. He'll be able to take a look at you."

"I said I'm fine," Isileet said, but her voice sounded flat with weariness.

"If he doesn't show up soon we'll go," Robin promised, and he grew silent for a while as he considered how to handle the subject of the fourth and final Earthen Lord's Stone, Agnar, currently in the possession of the unwitting doctor. Perhaps Hill had left the Stone in the house? Surely Isileet would be able to sense it if that were the case… So then it had to be with Hill – but then where was he? What if something had – no. There was no evidence to suggest foul play. The house looked untouched, and the car was gone – a sure indication that the doctor had left of his own volition. He was most likely out with his friend. What was her name? Claire? It was Claire. Hill had been on his way out to see her when Dick had called by. There was no cause for alarm then, not yet.

Robin just had to play for time.

"Isileet?"

"Mm?"

"The Stones…tell me more about them."

The girl's brows rose a little.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything important you haven't already told me," Robin said.

Isileet thought for a moment and then nodded compliantly.

"Alright. Well. The Stones are very, very old, as you probably already know."

"All stones are millions of years old," Robin answered quickly. Isileet rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

"Sorry. Go on," Robin said.

"Okay. But this is important to me, so don't – don't…"

"What?" Robin asked curiously.

"I don't know," Isileet muttered.

"I'll pay attention," Robin said earnestly, and that seemed to satisfy the girl.

"What I meant before" she continued "was that the powers of the Stones are very old. They were created over ten thousand years ago."

"Ten thousand years?" Robin sounded sceptical. "That can't be. The oldest civilisations, the Egyptians and the Chinese only began five thousand years BC."

"Exactly. It's like I said, the powers of the Stones are old." Isileet paused. "At that time most of the world was covered in ice so that the only place where civilised people could live was near the equator. The Stones are pretty much all that remains of that civilisation. They were its greatest creation…and they were its downfall."

"You mean that the Stones were created before the Egyptians?"

"Yes." Isileet smiled sadly. "To the Egyptians and the Greeks, the creators of the Stones were just a folk tale from before the flood."

"The flood," Robin repeated. He gestured vaguely with his hand. "As in, Noah's ark flood?"

"Like Noah's flood, but before. They were both caused when the ice sheets melted and the level of the sea rose. The first flood, which destroyed what was then the civilised world, happened when the Atlantic Ocean rose to the level of the straits of Gibraltar and flooded the Mediterranean Sea. Noah's flood was a few thousand years later when more ice melted to form the Black Sea."

"And you're saying that all traces of civilisation were lost?" Robin was interested in spite of himself.

"As I said. Legends remained. You've heard of the destruction of Atlantis? That was the Greek version of the story. My people escaped to what is now Egypt and they had their own history. They also say that some of the Atlanteans even adapted to living under water. I don't know about that."

"So how do the Earthen Lord's Stones come into this?"

"The people of Atlantis were the first flower of civilisation on the earth. They were the first to control the world around them. They built irrigation systems for their farms. They had great cities where all the arts flourished, making pottery and weapons and fine clothes and jewellery. They were fruitful and multiplied but what they did not have was land. As I told you, there was an ice age so the whole of the North was covered in ice fields and glaciers. That is when they took on a great project. They decided to use the powers of nature to liberate the northern lands from the ice."

"And that's what the Stones were made for?"

"Yes. The Stones captured the powers of Air, Fire, Water and Earth. They brought them together into four tiny focus points. The Stones, themselves, have no content. They are just empty channels through which energy can pass. They absorb energy from their surroundings so that it can be focussed on an objective. For good or evil. The Lord of the Earth – he really was the Lord of the whole civilised world – commissioned the greatest sages and crafts-people of his kingdom to create the Stones so that they could be used to melt the ice. My ancestors, the first Harachim, were the ones who took the Stones to their focus point, by sea and over land. Mithard, Havah, Agnar, Mairee, Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Then, when we had wakened them, the Master of the Stones called forth their powers and the ice caps melted."

"So they actually worked as the Earthen Lord had planned?"

"They worked too well. They melted the ice and the water ran down into the ocean. Did you know that the sea was two hundred feet shallower during the ice age? Well the Stones changed the climate and the ice melted. Along the edge of the oceans the water rose gradually. The people who had been living there lost everything, but at least they had time to escape.

"When the sea rose up over the land bridge between Africa and Europe, it was another story. It started as a trickle, but it turned into a tidal wave as it wore through the ridge. It destroyed everything in its path. Fertile fields, beautiful cities, castles, everything was destroyed as the Mediterranean Sea was filled. Millions of people died in that flood and the civilisation that created the Stones was destroyed completely."

"Couldn't they…turn the Stones off or something?"

"They tried. But by then it was too late. It's the same as the danger of the greenhouse effect today, like walking off the edge of a cliff. You go on and nothing happens until suddenly, there's a point of no return when you can't go back. They had melted so much ice that the sunlight was no longer reflected out into space and the temperature just kept rising. Their climate had changed and they could not restore it, even with all the powers of the Stones."

Robin was silent for a while, processing this. At last he said,

"And you're the only one – the only Harachim who's left?"

"Yes. I am all that remains," Isileet replied.

"So what's supposed to happen to the Stones when you're…you know…?" Robin faltered.

"When I'm dead? My children will guard the Stones. They'll make sure no one uses them again."

"What if you don't have children?" Robin asked.

"I have to." Was all the response he received.

Robin was about to speak, to ask a further question, but it was forced immediately from his mind by the approaching sound of a car's engine.

"Quick – get back by the hedge," Robin instructed, hastily grabbing up the duffle bag.

"Why –?" Isileet's barely had time to ask as Robin steered her away from the drive. "I thought this guy was your friend," the girl grumbled, crouching with Robin behind the wall of branches.

"He is," Robin said in a low tone. "But he could be in trouble." There was no further opportunity for discussion as a car swung into the driveway, casting twin beams of light through the hedge's leaves and momentarily dazzling the two teens. The car came to a halt a short distance from them and, in another instant the headlights shut off and the engine stopped. Robin blinked his eyes and waited in a tense crouch. Isileet was similarly wary at his shoulder. After a pause, the driver and passenger doors opened and the sound of a man and a woman's voice drifted over to them. Robin released the breath he had been holding as he identified Hill's smooth baritone.

"…I know, it's pointless worrying," the doctor was saying as he swung the car door closed. "I'm sorry if I've been…well, distracted all evening."

"No, Frank, I had a lovely time." Robin didn't recognise the woman's voice, but he assumed this was Claire. Lightly touching Isileet's shoulder, Robin motioned for her to stand.

"Robin?" the girl whispered uncertainly.

"It's alright." Robin rose to his feet and stepped out from behind the hedge. He cleared his throat quietly, then called, "Frank?"

The shadowy pair who had been on their way to the door started and jerked around, their eyes searching the darkness.

"Who's there?" Hill walked back towards the car, but halted as he caught sight of Robin. The youth felt a rush of warmth at the look of relief that flitted across the doctor's face.

"Robin! Oh, thank god." Hill moved forward and landed both hands firmly on Robin's shoulders, as if afraid he would try to leave.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Robin said. Hill's gaze drifted past his shoulder and an instant later Robin saw his eyes widen. "Who is –?"

"She's a friend of mine," Robin interrupted and, glancing back, found that Isileet was only a few steps away. There was an odd look on her face as she stared fixedly at Hill and she appeared to be holding onto something tightly in her trouser pocket.

"Is it alright if we come in for a minute?" Robin asked rapidly.

"What? Oh, yes, of course." Hill stepped back and waved them towards the house, only to halt sharply as he met Claire's gaze. "Ah – I should introduce you. Robin, this is Claire. She's a very close friend of mine…"

"Pleased to meet you at last, Robin." The woman who spoke was short and compact with straight brown hair that framed her round, kindly face. She came right up to Robin and extended her hand to him. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you," Robin said, and for an instant it was Dick who spoke, with all the easy politeness that came from endless evenings spent at high-profile social functions.

"And your friend?" Hill inquired with open curiosity.

"Her name's Isileet," Robin said shortly. He expected the girl to chime in with some comment or other, but she remained silent, still regarding Hill was a look approaching accusation.

"Isileet?" Robin muttered. "Is something wrong?"

"He has it," Isileet said through her teeth. Her eyes flickered to Robin's, an almost fevered light in their depths. "He has Agnar."

"Alright, calm down –" Robin said.

"Calm down? Did you know? Is he – is he working with Codey or something?"

"I'm sorry?" Hill cocked his head confusedly.

"Of course he isn't working with Codey," Robin said. "He's my friend. I asked him to hold onto the Stone for me until it was safe to come and get it."

Isileet considered this for a moment, looking from Robin to Hill mistrustfully.

"Okay?" Robin said. He was slightly worried to see that the girl was trembling.

"Okay," Isileet said, her voice uneven. "But I'd – I'd like to have it now. If that's – alright."

Hill turned his head slowly towards Robin with a questioning expression. The youth regarded Isileet uncertainly for a second longer, then nodded once at the doctor.

"Go on. Give it to her."

Hill fumbled with some buttons on his jacket, then plunged a hand quickly into an inner pocket. Isileet's eyes followed his every movement. Robin could see the bemusement on Claire Singer's face as she looked on in silence.

"Here it is," Hill said triumphantly. His arm went abruptly still and a slight frown pulled at his mouth. "That's odd."

"Have you still got it?" Robin asked.

"Oh yes, I've got it here, it's just – ah!" Hill gasped and retracted his hand with a jerk.

"What's wrong?"

"It's – hot!" Hill plucked uncomfortably at the breast of his jacket as if something where scalding him. With resolution, the doctor reached into his pocket once more and, as quickly as he could, closed his hand around what lay within and pulled it swiftly out.

"Goodness!" Claire exclaimed. Robin inhaled sharply through his nose as he saw that the fourth Stone rested in Hill's outstretched palm. Once again its surface glowed a smouldering ruby red, lighting their faces like the blaze of a fire.

"It wasn't like this before – I don't know what happened," Hill said in alarm. "Ah – I can't hold it, it's burning my hand!"

Just as the Stone slid through the doctor's fingers, Isileet sprang forward, hands outstretched. Robin wasn't certain of what exactly happened next, for his vision was filled with a blinding fiery light, a sound like an explosion roaring in his ears before all at once quieting. Robin's eye took a moment to adjust to the increased level of light. He had thrown up a hand to shield himself, although he saw how that he was in no danger. Isileet was standing just as she had been, her hands outstretched and cupped around Agnar. The Fire Stone's surface shone a vivid ruby colour, burning and incandescent with some unfathomable power.

"What – what just happened?" Hill was the first to find his voice.

"It's alright," Isileet murmured. Her skin was bathed in the crimson light, her curly brown hair swept back from her face and her eyes calm and half-hooded. "Agnar is Awakened. At last." She looked rather dazed as she took one hand from the Stone and reached into her trouser pocket. She drew out a black drawstring bag and slowly opened it. For a moment a shimmer of deep green was visible from within as Isileet eased the Fire Stone inside. She fastened the strings securely and the light was obscured altogether, snuffed out and trapped within the fabric of the bag.

"At last," Isileet repeated as she slid the bag back into her pocket. Her arms then hung slack at her sides and she seemed to sway slightly on her feet.

"Are you alright?" Robin asked. Somehow his voice came out steady, business-like.

"Yes." Isileet swallowed and put her hands to her head. "God. Twice in one night."

"You Awakened Codey's Stone already?" Robin asked, thinking of the green light in the bag.

"The moment I touch it, the Stone Awakens."

"Then you've Awoken all four?"

"Yes," Isileet said very quietly. She glanced at Robin, something like awe in her eyes. "Do you realise…? I'm the first member of my family to see this happen in over ten thousand years."

"Robin. Could you explain what's going on here?" Hill murmured, shaken.

"I–I'll try. But we can't stay here long."

"Inside," Claire said gently, placing a hand on Hill's arm.

"Yes." The doctor nodded. He produced some keys from his jacket and went to open the door. Robin stayed close to Isileet, watching the drive vigilantly. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen.

"Alright. Come on in," Hill called. He touched the light switch in the entrance hall and a golden rectangle of light fell out onto the drive. Claire started forward, Robin following close behind. Isileet was the last in before Hill closed the door behind them.

"We really can't stay long," Robin said.

"Why? Where are you going?" Hill asked.

"I…we're meeting someone."

"Again?" Hill walked to the settee but didn't sit down. "Robin, I'm really starting to worry about you. No – actually, I don't think I've stopped worrying since the moment we met!"

Robin could think of nothing to say to this.

"You promise to talk to me," Hill went on. "So talk! Where have you been all evening?"

"We were working a case," Robin said after a pause.

"Right. What case?" Hill asked. Robin glanced at Claire uncertainly, then back at the doctor. The silent plea that lay in the man's eyes made Robin yield a little.

"The Earthen Lord's Stones case. We were following up a lead."

"The Earthen Lord's Stones?" Hill repeated. He pointed in Isileet's direction. "Those Stones?"

"Yes."

"That's what this whole thing has been about? The police thinking you're a criminal, the Titans –" Hill stopped himself with a look of regret. "I'm sorry. But if these Stones have caused you so much trouble, do you really think it's – it's wise to get mixed up in them?"

"Frank," Robin said with difficulty. "There's too much at stake. I have to see it through to the end."

"What does that mean? Once you've got yourself arrested – killed?"

"I can take care of myself," Robin said, frustration making him fierce. Hill made no response, fixing the youth with a pained stare.

"We should go." It was Isileet who finally broke the silence.

"Not yet," Robin said. There was so much he could tell Hill – so much he should tell him.

"Robin, we're running out of time." There was an edge of desperation to Isileet's voice now. "Don't you remember what those guards said about Slade? Codey's gang's mounting an all-out attack on Slade – tonight. We could be looking at a huge gang war here."

"Does he know?" Robin asked, and he didn't need to say the man's name. Isileet knew he was talking about Batman.

"Of course. He has a plan – that's why we've got to meet him. Now. He needs us."

"Robin –" Hill began, but the youth spoke over him.

"She's right. We might already be too late."

"But – a gang war? You can't be serious." Hill shook his head incredulously.

"Goodbye Frank." Robin started to turn away.

"Wait!" The doctor crossed the room in a several strides and reached for Robin's elbow. "Please! At least tell me where you're going."

Robin didn't put up any resistance, but gazed at his friend with sad resolution.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you get involved in this," the youth said.

"And I can't let you get involved in this!" Hill said.

"I am already involved in it." Robin watched the man for a long moment, then slowly, firmly, pulled away from him. He turned to Isileet and together they went out through the door.

"Robin –!" Hill called hopelessly, running to the entry and holding either side of the doorframe in both hands. But there was nothing to be seen in the darkness outside. They were gone.

"Frank – Frank, we have to do something." Claire's familiar voice startled the man and he spun around to face her.

"What? What on earth can we do now?"

"We can call the police," Claire said. "Those detectives we met – they'll help."

"I can't give this to them, Claire, I'm his doctor –"

"What Robin said to you he said in the presence of both me and that young girl. You know what that means – it's not privileged information. It can be disclosed to the police!"

"They'll arrest him! I can't let that happen!"

"He's just a boy, Frank. And that girl who was with him? They're on their way into a war zone!"

"Oh God." The young doctor pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, his eyes falling closed in despair. "Oh God."

"What are you going to do?" Claire asked softly. Hill said nothing for a long while, then, at last, he straightened up and met the concerned eyes of his dearest friend.

"Bring me the phone."

Chapter Text

Mob Army

A vicious wind picked up out of nowhere, blasting leaves and dirt into the air and shaking the shadowy tree boughs above. In another moment a ring of earth in the middle of the clearing was swept up in a consuming whirlpool by ink-black energy, the temperature plunging to a chilling level. An ominous shadow rose from the shifting pool and arched upwards, seeming for an instant to take on the hellish form of some winged creature before abruptly losing shape and dispersing off into wisps of tattered energy. Four figures were left standing in the clearing.

The tense set of Raven's shoulders eased, her arms lowering slowly to her sides. All around, displaced leaves and earth rained softly down in the wake of her transportation, tree branches overhead resettling with echoing groans. The girl adjusted her hood and turned to her companions.

"We're here," she said. Her breath was misty in the frigid air.

"I think…I'm going to be sick," Beast Boy moaned. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and staggered off to lean against a tree. After swallowing several times, he added thickly, "I am never doing that again! Oh man…"

Starfire hastened to his side, one hand held aloft, filling the small clearing with a warm, green glow.

"This is the residence of Damien Codey?" the Tamaranian said uncertainly, glancing about at the surrounding woodland.

"We're on the grounds. The mansion is close," Raven said. Cyborg, who was standing a few feet away, cocked his head in an effort to catch her eye. Raven ignored him and swept off towards the edge of the clearing.

"Hold on!" Cyborg called, striding after her. "We've got to think this through –"

"Keep your voice down." Raven didn't pause to look back at the tall youth.

"Rae, stop. Let's talk about this – Raven!" Cyborg started reaching for her but, before his hand could make contact with her elbow, the girl had wheeled sharply around to face him. Cyborg shifted back a step, raising both hands in a gesture for peace.

"Will you just let me explain?"

Raven's eyes were hidden beneath the shroud of her hood, and Cyborg couldn't be certain that she was even looking at him. In fact, her gaze was directed past his shoulder at Starfire and Beast Boy.

"You two need to get up into the air. See what kind of guard presence we're dealing with."

"Sure, just as soon as my stomach stops trying to climb out of my mouth," Beast Boy grumbled. Starfire's brow was pinched with worry as she glanced from Cyborg to Raven.

"Friends, you believe that the Stone is still here?" she ventured.

"It's unlikely," Raven replied. "But we're out of options. That Stone is our only link to Slade." Her gaze snapped suddenly to Cyborg's face. "And Robin."

There was a tense pause.

"Heh." Beast Boy pushed himself away from the tree and stepped in between Cyborg and Raven. "So…do you guys remember that place we used to live before we moved to awkwards-ville? It was nice." The forced cheer in his voice was almost worse than the silence had been.

"We have to get the Stone," Raven stated flatly. Cyborg sighed and rubbed a hand over the biological side of his face.

"Very well then," Starfire said. "We shall observe the surrounding area from above." She rose quickly from the ground. Beast Boy was silent as he followed her, flickering into the form of a crow. Raven turned and made her way out of the clearing, Cyborg trailing along awkwardly behind her.

"Seriously, Rae, you've got to understand why we did it," he said desperately. Raven kept walking. The ground was already beginning to slope; the dark band of the tarmac drive becoming visible through the thinning trees. Raven kept to the undergrowth, following the bend of the drive just as she and Robin had on their previous visit. Cyborg hurried clumsily after her, stumbling over tree roots in his haste.

"We had no choice!" the youth persisted. "All the evidence pointed to the fact that he'd betrayed us – that he was Red X! He attacked us under that bridge in Madison. He hit Starfire –!"

"I dropped the Stone behind a wall on the green," Raven announced abruptly. "If it's still there, I'll sense it." There was something hard in her voice that made Cyborg hesitate before speaking again.

"Right, explain that," he said at length, mustering his indignation. He gave up on looking where he was going as he turned to face her. "Why'd he just leave you here before? Why's he so obsessed with getting these Stone things? You can't tell me that his behaviour lately hasn't made you suspicious. He's been keeping secrets. And it's not like we haven't given him the chance to explain himself time and again. You think I wanted to throw him off the team? That I wanted to believe that he was Red X again? I was only doing what I thought was best for the team, Raven, you've got to understand that. And Robin. He never even tried to meet us halfway, he brought this on himself –"

"That's enough," Raven interrupted. "This isn't the time or place to be discussing this."

"Fine," said Cyborg, stung. "I just thought you should know." He was silent for a few seconds, then went on, "We found a message from Slade on his computer, you know? He thought Robin had turned as well – said he'd hooked up with Batman and gone after the Stones…"

Raven shook her head, her lips thinning into a frown.

"Don't you see why I did what I did?" Cyborg demanded.

"The point is, you did it. There's nothing to be done about it now."

"But you agree there was no other way?"

Raven remained silent

"What, so that's it? That's all you have to say?" Cyborg said, frustrated and disbelieving.

"Yes," Raven snapped. A clump of ferns she passed was suddenly ensnared in black, its leaves shrivelling and its stem constricting with a wet crunch. Cyborg's eyes widened in alarm.

"Okay then," he breathed. He hastily dropped back and allowed the girl to lead the way. For some time there was only the quiet sound of their footfalls and the soft rustle of Raven's cloak then, gradually, a distant hum began to grow in Cyborg ears, becoming steadily louder until he was certain that it was an approaching car engine.

"Raven!" Cyborg hissed. He could make out the girl's shadowy form a short distance ahead as she halted, her head angled in the direction of the drive. Moments later, the headlights of a sleek Lincoln Town Car came pouring around the bend. Cyborg held his breath as the vehicle slid by, his cybernetic eye tracking it until it was out of sight. The grainy-green tinge of night vision filtered back in as he glanced away from the drive. He was slightly startled to find Raven standing at his shoulder.

"Looks like Codey's got callers," he commented. "I counted five guys."

"There's more on the way," Raven murmured.

"Huh?"

As Cyborg spoke, a second Town Car drew into view, a third close behind. Cyborg scanned each as they passed and waiting until the sticky sound of tires on tarmac had faded before turning back to Raven.

"What do you suppose is going on?"

Raven's communicator began bleeping. She drew it from her belt and flipped the top back.

"Yes?"

"Hey Raven – we've just spotted some cars pulling up," Beast Boy said. "Did you see them?"

"Sure did," Cyborg said, leaning down to speak into the device.

"Town Cars, right? Pretty sweet suspension, hey Cy?" Beast Boy's grin could be heard over the connection. Cyborg chuckled appreciatively.

"Beautiful. They're Ballistic Series – military-grade ceramics, run-flat tire inserts–"

Raven cleared her throat meaningfully.

"But, er, anyway – you and Starfire see anything else?" Cyborg asked hurriedly.

"There're a lot of guards patrolling in front of the mansion – there're already a bunch of cars parked in the drive. Is Codey having some kind of mob cocktail party we don't know about?"

"How close can you get?" Raven said.

"Well…we're in a big tree next to a wall at the moment. I could get right up close to the mansion as a bird if you want."

"Do it," Raven said. "And tell Starfire to wait for us where she is. We're heading towards the green now."

"Try not to be too conspicuous, BB," Cyborg added.

"Conspicuous? Me?"

"Bro, you're green."

"Right. Keep to the shadows, got it," Beast Boy conceded.

"Let's move," Raven said, then cut the connection and returned the communicator to her belt.

Four more cars had driven past by the time the two companions had reached the hedge that surrounded the green. Cyborg watched the drive vigilantly while Raven stepped a little way out from the cover of the undergrowth and focused on the security camera mounted high on the hedge. After watching it pan from left to right for several seconds, Raven swept a single hand through the air and a slender band of ebony energy fixed around the body of the camera and held it in place, leaving a clear zone for her and Cyborg to pass under. Once they were safely in the camera's blind spot, Raven released her hold and swiftly opened a gap in the hedge large enough for Cyborg to slip through.

"Keep low to the ground. There'll be a wall straight ahead," Raven said quietly.

"That's where you dropped it? The Stone?"

"Yes. Now hurry, I hear another car coming," Raven said. Cyborg scrambled through the hedge branches and Raven followed just as the car's high beams struck out across the drive. The pair quickly sought the shelter of the low granite wall and sat crouched with their backs to the stone as the drone of the engine faded.

"Okay," Cyborg whispered. "Guess we should…start looking?"

Raven drew back the hood of her cloak, closed her eyes, and laid her hands flat on the ground. Cyborg caught the end of some murmured words before a sudden ripple of cold air fluttered through the grass, colouring each blade a shade darker than shadow. The hairs on Cyborg's flesh rose and he felt an instinctive urge to move away from Raven, determined as he was not to distract her. After a minute or two the feeling of unease which had arisen in Cyborg subsided and he consciously made himself relax. Raven's posture too, he noticed, had gone slack beside him, her head dipped low and her face hidden behind her dark hair.

"Raven? You okay?" Cyborg asked hesitantly. The girl sat slowly back on her heels and steadied herself with one hand against the wall. Her eyes remained lowered.

"The Stone isn't here."

"Are – are you sure?" Cyborg said. "How do you know?"

"Because I can't sense it. I can't sense either of them." Raven's gaze finally rose to meet the youth's. "Not even Codey's."

"What does this mean?"

"I don't know. It could mean that Codey found our Stone and had it moved somewhere else with his."

"You got a glass-half-full theory?" Cyborg asked hopefully.

"The only other explanation" Raven said "is that someone else has the Stones now."

"You're saying someone could have got their hands on Codey's Stone and the one you dropped here?" Cyborg said incredulously.

"It would explain all the cars," Raven pointed out.

"Codey's gone to Red Alert," Cyborg agreed. "This is him gathering his forces?"

"It's plausible."

"More plausible than BB's mob cocktail party theory, that's for sure," Cyborg snorted. "Come on then, let's see how the recce is going." He started as, with a flutter of wings, a large green bird landed next to him.

"Hey BB," he said, "seen anything?"

"There's dozens of them." Beast Boy crouched, human again, behind the wall. "And it's not just Codey's. I saw at least three of the Glass Circle and some of the Trolleys as well. Sounds like they're joining up to go after Slade."

Raven turned round and peered over the top of the wall. The driveway was filled with parked cars and, as she watched, a stream of men began to emerge from the house and climb into the vehicles.

As the first cars began to drive off, Cyborg exclaimed. "Must be every gangster in Jump City. I can see twenty cars and there are more down the drive. Four or five men in each car. That's getting up towards a hundred!"

"Easily," Beast Boy replied. "And these guys are packing iron. Not just the HKs they normally use. I saw Armalites and M249s."

Raven flipped open her communicator. "Starfire," she said, "can you see what is going on?"

"Yes. I am stationed in an oak tree overlooking the exit gate." The Tamaranian's voice came from the tiny device. "A convoy of cars is emerging from the property. Their destination appears to be Jump City. I have counted nine vehicles so far."

"And we thought three guys blowing each other to bits in a restaurant was gang warfare?" Cyborg commented. "Looks like we get to find out what it's really about tonight."

"Indeed," Raven replied. "It appears that we do."

Chapter Text

Hill Street Blues

Detective Clines sat quite still, his mouth hanging a small way open and his eyes wide, staring fixedly, some expression approaching bliss on his face. He carefully adjusted his grip on his Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese before raising it level with his mouth. He closed his eyes, deeply breathing in the scent of the sesame bun.

"Do you actually plan on eating that, or what?" Detective Shepard snorted from the squad car's passenger seat. Clines cracked one eye open and glared.

"You're ruining this for me."

"Sorry," Shepard said around a mouthful of Filet-O-Fish. "I'm just surprised is all. I've watched you cram crap into your mouth for years. Why the sudden ceremony?"

"Because this is my first McDonalds as a free man."

Shepard swallowed a few mouthfuls of diet coke before responding.

"Vinnie, you know the other day when I asked you how you were dealing with your break up with Carol?"

"Yeah…"

"And you said you were fine?"

"More than fine. Completely over it." Clines shook his Quarter Pounder emphatically.

"Right. Now, not that it's annoying or anything – even though it is – but why with this 'free man' thing all the time?"

"Moments like these just need some savouring," Clines said. "Do you have any idea how controlling Carol was? I never ate this stuff when I was with her."

"What are you talking about? You ate this stuff all the time!"

"Well…the point is, I had to lie about it. Now I'm free," Clines said, settling contentedly back in his seat. "A free man." He sunk his teeth into his burger with a rapturous sigh.

"Alright then." Shepard eyed her partner dubiously. "But just watch it, 'free man'. You're getting sauce all over yourself."

Clines swore, spraying half-chewed meat and bun everywhere as he lurched forward to dump his oozing burger back in its box.

"Carol was nuts to let you get away," Shepard chuckled dryly, throwing Clines a napkin.

"Low blow," Clines protested, grimacing as he attempted to wipe off his pants and only succeeding in smearing more sauce over himself. "It's this car," he growled with a shake of his head. "Every time I get in this damn thing I end up spilling something…ah, the hell with it!"

Shepard sipped demurely at her coke as she watched her partner kick open his door and haul himself out of the car.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, bending and leaning through the window.

"More napkins?"

"Saw that coming," Clines grumbled. He set off across the near-deserted car park in the direction of the McDonalds. Garish yellow light gave the building a rather surreal appearance; a block of glowing plastic isolated against the night sky. Clines paused in front of the glass doors and re-examined his soiled trousers.

"Nice," he said irritably, licking his sticky fingers. He was reaching for the door when his cell-phone started ringing. Sliding a hand gingerly into his trouser pocket, he drew out the phone and put it to his ear.

"Clines."

"Hello? Detective Clines?"

"Yes." Clines frowned, attempting to place the voice on the other end of the line.

"This is Frank Hill. You came to see me a couple days ago?"

"Doctor." Clines' brows lifted in surprise and he shifted back a few steps from the door. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"Something's happened – is about to happen," Hill said in a rush. Clines stiffened as he caught the clear note of anxiety in the other man's voice.

"What is it? Tell me," Clines said rapidly.

"Robin, he –" The doctor's words faltered. Clines tightened his grip on his phone until the casing creaked beneath his fingers. "He's in trouble," Hill went on with evident difficulty. "There's some kind of a gang war taking place – tonight. And Robin's got himself caught up in it."

"What? A gang war did you say?"

"That's right. Codey and Slade – something to do with the Earthen Lord's Stones. I can't understand how Robin could be involved –"

"Slow down. Where is he at the moment?"

"I…I don't know."

"Doctor –"

"No, I really don't. He left here a little while ago."

"You at your home?"

"Yes."

"Stay there. We're coming now." Clines started jogging back towards the car.

"No! There's no time," Hill said desperately. "You have to find Robin."

"Look, just stay calm. Finding him is our top priority."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then, suddenly, Hill said,

"You know you're wrong about him, Detective. He isn't who you think he is."

"Is that right?" Clines had reached the car and was in the process of opening the driver door.

"He isn't a criminal, you have to understand –" Clines missed the rest of Hill's statement as he swung down into his seat and noticed Shepard sitting hunched over the police radio, the speaker tightly clasped in her hand.

"We're getting calls here, Vinnie," she announced tensely. Clines held his cell phone against his chest for a moment and lent forward to listen to the urgent voices on the radio, each of them fuzzily relaying a similar message in quick, garbling succession:

"– all units to assist, large group of vehicles heading North-East on the outskirts – suspects armed and believed dangerous –"

"– In pursuit of armoured vehicles heading –"

"– Requesting assistance –"

"– number of unlicensed cars heading –"

"– All units to assist –"

Shepard and Clines exchanged a swift look that communicated their shared unease.

"Detective? Are you still there?" Clines barely heard Hill's voice muffled against his shirt.

"I'm still here, Doctor," Clines said, and nodded at Shepard when she glanced sharply at him in disbelief. "Something certainly seems to be happening out there. You're sure we're looking at a gang war here?"

"I'm growing more sure by the minute," Hill said darkly. "Please – you have to do something –"

"We'll do all we can." Clines fastened his seatbelt one-handed and started up the car.

" – look for Robin!"

"You can count on it. I'll have to contact you later, Doctor. I'm sorry."

"Is there nothing I can –?" The rest of Hill's question was cut off as Clines hung up. The detective shook his head and jammed the cell back in his pocket.

"Gang war?" Shepard repeated as they pulled out onto the main road.

"Apparently," Clines said grimly. "And you'll never guess who's going to be there."

Chapter Text

Out of the Shadows

"Well," Isileet said, sweeping her arms wide. "Here we are."

Robin remained where he was, balanced on the lip of the building. He tilted his head back, watching as a grimy sheet of cloud crept away from the face of the heavy, yellow moon; a lazy unveiling that left the night sky stripped and glowing. All was still save for the rippling slap of his cape against his calves.

"This is it," Isileet quietly added. Her voice carried a strange air of contentment that Robin hadn't heard before. He lowered his gaze to find her pushing aside the metal grating from what appeared to be an air duct. She dropped her duffle bag in first, then slung a leg over the side. "Come on, Robin. He's probably waiting for us." She paused to hitch up the sleeves of the red sweater she still wore before lowering herself into the duct.

Robin crossed the roof of the warehouse as Isileet disappeared from view down the small square of blackness that even the moonlight failed to penetrate. Climbing over the side, Robin was surprised when his feet found immediate purchase on the rungs of a ladder. Far off, a police siren wailed eerily in the silence. He held himself frozen in place for an instant, listening until it faded. Then, with a final, defiant glance over his shoulder at the lights of the city, he turned and began his descent into the shadows.

They made their way blindly down into the building until abruptly the walls of the duct ceased and only the steel rungs remained, imbedded in the wall. Robin heard Isileet's feet touch the ground some way beneath him. Joining her at the bottom, he found that they were standing on a narrow walkway that overlooked the concrete floor of the warehouse. The few lights that worked offered only dirty rings of illumination. Vague shapes of crates and boxes were dimly visible, stacked and looming in places like indistinct segments of a labyrinth. Robin breathed the thin air, repressing a shiver at the sudden chill he felt.

"I know it's kind of creepy…" Isileet began, shouldering her bag.

"No. This feels about right," Robin said.

"Shall we go down then?" Isileet led the way to a creaking flight of metal stairs. Robin noticed her hand shook a little as she held the rail.

"You okay?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. Tired maybe. Excited." She flashed Robin a smile. "I know you don't really understand – how it feels, having all the Stones Awakened. It's incredible. Once all this trouble's taken care of, it'll feel so good, just knowing…just knowing I did what I was made to do. The Stones are safe now."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Robin said grimly. "We're not out the woods yet. Not by far."

"I don't know, Robin. I have a feeling Batman's got something up his sleeve…er…gauntlet? This gang war will be over before it's begun."

They had reached the warehouse floor.

"So who owns all this?" Robin asked, squinting around at the crates in a vain attempt to make out any trade name or insignia.

"Not sure," Isileet replied thoughtfully. "No one comes here, only us. Guess it's all just somebody's junk." She walked on through a gap between some boxes. Robin followed her easily in the weak light.

"Where are we going?"

"Batman cleared out some space along here." Isileet raised an arm and pointed. "It's where we work."

Robin flinched at her words but said nothing.

"Here," Isileet announced once they'd clambered over a stack of boxes. Robin found himself in a fairly spacious area, shaped roughly as a rectangle. Heaps of crates formed a shadowy perimeter, while the dark brick of the warehouse itself provided a single, solid wall at the back. It was against this that a stainless-steel table stood, its surface bare except for a square container the size of a shoebox. A bright electric lamp stood on the floor to one side, starkly lighting the otherwise empty space.

"Wow, guess he cleaned the place," Isileet said in surprise. "This was a tip last time I saw it. I can understand why he made the effort, though, us having company and all." She winked at Robin, then approached the table. Robin wandered over to the other end of the clearing, his eyes rapidly searching the shadows and his heart starting to beat a little too loudly in his ears.

"Isileet?"

"Hm?" The girl was busy retrieving the black drawstring bag from her trouser pocket.

"Where is he?" Robin was careful to keep the tone of his voice measured and controlled.

"He'll be here," Isileet said. "Maybe he's just tying up some loose ends? But I mean, this is Batman. Half of the time no one knows what he's doing. Guess it's all part of the mysterious, broody hero thing, right?" As she spoke, Isileet eased back the lid of the box on the table. For a moment, a vivid rainbow of light filled the small space as the girl delicately transferred the two Earthen Lord's Stones from the bag to the box.

"Hey, come over here. You really need to see this," Isileet murmured. Robin stepped up to stand beside her, his eyes widening as he glimpsed the box's content. All four Earthen Lord's Stones sat closely together as if they were some otherworldly eggs cushioned in a silk-lined nest. Their different coloured surfaces glimmered dazzlingly. Robin found himself unable to stare directly at them, yet at the same time reluctant to look away. His attention was most drawn to the two Stones which he had not yet seen before. One was a gleaming translucent golden-brown, somewhat like amber or honey, the other's surface a misty pearl-white. The shimmering green Stone was also unfamiliar, though Robin knew this was the one that they had relieved Codey of. The final Stone was still the blazing ruby-red it had been when Isileet had first touched it outside Hill's house.

"Mairee, Mithard, Havah, Agnar. They're breath-taking, aren't they?" Isileet said in a reverently hushed tone. "Hard to believe human hands made them."

Robin nodded silent agreement. For several seconds neither of them spoke and they simply stood staring into the box, their faces lit by the combined lights of the Stones. Robin was the first to look away, his mind too occupied to be distracted for long.

"Something isn't right," he muttered. Isileet seemed startled by the sudden sound of his voice.

"What do you mean?" She carefully closed the lid of the box, shutting away the light.

"I mean that a gang war is on the verge of erupting – and Batman isn't here." He was surprised by his own words. Saying them aloud made his stomach drop sickening.

"Robin, I've told you, he's probably –"

"He didn't come earlier, either."

"Earlier?"

"The Burnigan Roofs. He specifically said … He promised me he'd be there; he promised me answers." Robin began prowling up and down restlessly.

"I already explained that he couldn't make it. And I gave you answers. I told you about the Stones, about my history, didn't I?" Isileet said defensively. "Look, I know you're nervous right now, I am too, but you should trust Batman to –"

"Don't," Robin barked sharply, rounding on the girl. She blinked at him.

"Robin, all I'm trying to say is that you don't need to worry," she said more cautiously. "This'll get sorted out, tonight. It's already half-sorted. We have the Stones, don't we? And once this gang thing is over, we'll be fine. Me, you, Batman. We just need to look out for each other, have faith in each other. I don't know how else to put this except to say that…well…we're a family."

Robin stared at her in disbelief, too taken aback to form any kind of response.

"Don't look at me like that, you know what I mean," Isileet said uncomfortably.

"No, I don't," Robin said. At the hurt look on the girl's face, he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing as his fingers connected with the bruising that lingered there. He lowered his hand slowly. "Isileet…I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression, but…I – I don't – I mean, I already have a…family." The word felt awkward leaving his mouth.

"The Titans?" Isileet said incredulously. "You think they –"

"Watch it." The warning in Robin's voice was clear.

"I just –" Isileet waved her arms in exasperation. "How can you still say that? Even knowing that one of them is a spy?"

"A spy," Robin repeated flatly. "That's one question that was never answered. And there are more, lots more. Like what were you and Batman doing in Madison Park? Why did you attack Starfire? Why were you – why were you even dressed like that? Why Red X?"

"There are answers, Robin," Isileet said desperately, stepping closer to the youth. Robin backed away. "Please – why can't you just trust that Batmanwill tell you when he knows you're ready?"

"It's not Batman that I'm have trouble trusting," Robin murmured, his gaze locking with Isileet's.

"Batman trusted me. I know who he really is," Isileet persisted. "Doesn't that mean anything to you? Think about it, Robin, really think about it. You're supposed to be a detective, work it out for yourself. I'm Harachim. Slave of the Stones. My only –" she faltered for a brief moment "My only purpose in life is to gather a bunch of Stones; I'm bound to spend my life keeping them safe. What possible reason could I have for betraying you now? And Batman? He's the only person who ever…" She left the sentence unfinished, her gaze breaking off from Robin's.

"I'm just going by the facts, Isileet," Robin said coldly. "You showed up the same time Slade did. Because of you, I lost my team. I did trust you, enough to help you get your Stones, I even came with you to this abandoned old warehouse because you told me Batman would be here. But he's not!"

"So what do you think – I've done something to him?" Isileet laughed disbelievingly. Robin's severe expression remained unchanged.

"Oh, this isn't happening," Isileet muttered to herself, rubbing her forehead wearily. She glanced up at Robin again in earnest. "He will be here, just give him time!"

"For all I know, you're really working with Slade and this is all a trap." Robin tensed as he spoke, turning around as if he expected to see attackers stealing out from the shadows behind him.

"What?" Isileet's brows shot up in what looked like amazement. "You don't–?"

"Hello?" a timid voice interrupted.

Isileet and Robin started, jerking around at the sound.

"Um, hi. Sorry if I'm…interrupting." The owner of the voice stepped hesitantly forward into the light of the electric lamp. She looked young, younger than Robin; she was certainly smaller, her slight frame and nervously hunched shoulders only adding to her diminutive air. Shoulder-length blond hair fell about her face. Detachedly, Robin noticed that there was some dirt smudged across her cheek. Her clothes, too, looked grimy and threadbare. Her eyes were clear blue.

"Who're you?" Robin was the first to recover himself.

"I'm, er, just looking for someone. He told me to meet him here?" the stranger said.

"You – you're the…" Isileet shook her head. "This can't be right."

"Excuse me?" the girl said nervously.

"But he said someone would…so you must be…" Isileet trailed off and simply stared.

"Isileet?" Robin prompted warily. "What's going on here?"

Isileet only shook her head again and stepped back towards the table. She picked up the box in both hands and walked with slow precision towards the girl.

"Hey – what do you think you're doing?" The girl's eyes were wide as she began backing away. "Stay back – I'm warning you!"

"Isileet –" Robin was taking a step forward when suddenly he felt the ground beneath his feet start to tremble.

"S-Stay back!" The girl stumbled against one of the crates. The quaking underfoot was worsening to the point that crates and boxes close by were toppling to the ground with resounding crashes. Just as Robin became certain that they were experiencing an earthquake, the seismic chaos abruptly ceased. He looked in the direction of the stranger and was surprised to see Isileet kneeling close to her, the box open in her hands and the light from the Stones streaming out, seeming to bend and arch around the girl who stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fluttering closed and her expression going slack. All at once her knees buckled and she collapsed forward. Isileet only just managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

"What just happened?" Robin demanded breathlessly. Isileet glanced back at him, a smile on her face.

"It's her! Don't you see? She's the descendant! She's the channel of the Earthen Lord's power. She is the Earthen Lord."

"Isileet," Robin said, "if you don't start explaining –"

"You're right," Isileet interrupted. She was still smiling, but her eyes were directed past Robin to something behind him. "It's time you got an explanation."

Puzzled, Robin turned to see what she was looking at. His breath caught in his throat as he saw that there was someone standing in the shadows a short distance away. It was difficult to distinguish any defining features because the details of the figure were largely obscured by the hard, sweeping lines of the black material furled loosely about them in the sinister appearance of folded wings. Despite the initial shock that the sight inspired, Robin's heart rose, relief swelling within him palpably.

"Batman," Robin breathed, allowing some emotion to colour the greeting.

"Hello, Robin."

It will all be alright now. That voice seemed to say. Everything will be alright.

"I thought – you didn't –" Robin said haltingly.

"I know." The dark outline of Batman's figure moved closer. "You'll have your answers now, Robin."

The words were like a release, like a hand lifting all the weight from him. Robin drank in the feeling hungrily, his eyes rising readily to meet the man's.

"All your answers." His voice was rich and soothing. So smooth. Too smooth… He stepped forward. The shadows fell back and the light struck his face. His mask. Not Batman's mask –

Something inside Robin collapsed. He stood perfectly still, staring up into the face of his enemy where the face of his friend should have been.

"Slade?"

Chapter Text

Bid For Power

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos, Azarath Metrion Zinthos…Hmmm."

"Raven, your meditation has wrought answers?" Starfire whispered, hovering hesitantly at her friend's shoulder.

"I can sense the Stones. They're close – all four have been activated." Raven had one hand to her forehead, index and middle fingers resting lightly on the crimson shard of stone affixed there.

"And Robin? Are you able to ascertain his location?"

"No. The energy from the Stones is too powerful, it's like a fog."

"Oh dear. But you have devised a course of action for us to take?" Starfire clasped her hands anxiously in front of her.

"Not yet," Raven said quietly. "We have to wait."

"We have done much waiting indeed."

"Be patient. We can't afford to make a mistake now," Raven replied. Starfire sighed to herself and sank slowly to the ground.

"The most terrible mistake has been made already. What error could possibly be worse?" the Tamaranian said softly. Just then, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. "Cyborg and Beast Boy have returned," she said, and waved to the shadowy forms of their companions as they rounded the corner into the alleyway where the girls had taken refuge. The youths hastened towards them, their faces pale in the bleak moonlight.

Cyborg, who had been studying the digital screen set into his forearm, halted alongside Starfire and shook his head grimly.

"Things aren't looking too good out there," he announced. "Codey and his new buddies have got the warehouse surrounded. They're definitely planning an attack."

"Were you able to see into the warehouse?" Starfire asked rapidly.

"Nu-uh," Beast Boy said. "The windows are blacked out the whole way around. Whoever's in there likes their privacy." He chewed restlessly at one gloved fingertip. "I've got a real bad feeling about this, guys. I mean – we're talking about Slade. Holed up in some mouldy old warehouse. Surrounded by mobsters who want to kill him. There's a lot of things wrong with this picture."

"Agreed." Starfire nodded. "It is suspicious that Slade has allowed his enemies so close. Perhaps he is not in fact here. He was successful in convincing the police of his presence at Kings Lot…"

"Could just be that Slade's finally got himself backed into a corner," Cyborg countered. "Only a matter of time before someone beat him at his own game. I can't see Codey bringing all these guys out on some wild goose chase. He'd make certain he knew Slade was here before bringing out the heavy artillery."

"Slade probably fed Codey the information," said Raven, still hovering above her friends' heads. "Slade's enemies are on his doorstep, but only because that's where he wants them."

"You're trying to tell me he planned this – all of this?" Cyborg said, the incredulity in his voice not entirely convincing.

"Don't underestimate Slade. He has succeeded in collecting all four of the Earthen Lord's Stones, killing a good number of Codey's men in the process. My guess is that Slade knew how Codey would retaliate – by joining forces with the Trollys and the Glass Circle – Jump's two other big gangs. As far as Codey knows, he's on the verge of exacting his revenge against Slade, but really he's playing right into his hands. The gang lords won't know they've walked into a trap until it's too late. I believer that Slade has orchestrated this entire thing from the very beginning."

"Same old story then," Beast Boy muttered darkly.

"But how is it that Robin came to be entangled in these events?" Starfire demanded. Raven said nothing for a moment as she rose out of her lotus position in mid-air and dropped smoothly down between Starfire and Cyborg.

"I'm not surprised that Slade's plans involved Robin," the girl said. "Once again, he was somehow able to manipulate him into doing his bidding. Think how he used the video to turn us against each other by making us believe that Robin had betrayed the team. Slade has a talent for creating discord."

"You can hardly blame us for what we did," Cyborg began. "If Robin had bothered to–"

"I think you've missed the point," said Raven bluntly. She turned to the group at large. "The fact is that Robin thought what he was doing was right at the time. What we need to focus on now is defusing this situation before it gets out of control. It may already be too late to prevent the gang war. Above all we have to find out what has happened to Robin, and get those Stones away from Slade. If he's able to harness even a fraction of the power that I can sense…"

"…then we're screwed," Beast Boy concluded.

"I'm hoping we've got some kind of master plan up our sleeve," Cyborg said. "A master plan that involves us beating up Codey and his boys despite being completely outnumbered, busting into that warehouse without getting blitzed by the booby-traps Slade'll probably have rigged up, busting Slade, freeing Robin, grabbing these Stones that everyone seems to be after, and then hightailing it out before the cops arrive."

"I believe that the police are already here," said Starfire, nodding her head in the direction of the narrow road that lay several yards away at the mouth of the alley. A patrol car crept slowly by, its sirens off and its headlights low.

"Codey's convoy was bound to draw attention," Raven said once the vehicle had passed out of sight.

"They're keeping quiet," Cyborg observed. "At least they're not trying anything stupid. Yet."

"There may be hope of preventing the gang war," Starfire said slowly. "Perhaps if we worked with the law enforcement officers…?"

"I don't know, Star." Cyborg's mouth twisted in distaste.

"Yeah," Beast Boy chimed in. "the cops have never trusted us. Why would they start now?"

Clines wrestled out of his seatbelt.

"Let's go have a word with the uniforms," he said, opening the driver's door. Shepard frowned distractedly, adjusting her hold on Clines' cell phone and fitting it closer to her ear.

"Ellen? Are you coming?" said Clines impatiently.

"And when was this, Doctor?" Shepard said into the phone. She waved her partner away. Clines rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of the car, taking care to muffle the slam of the door before heading across the road. A patrol car was parked nearby in the shadow of a boarded up house. Clines spared a quick glance up and down the road and noted that the surrounding ramshackle buildings were little better, each seemingly more dilapidated than the last. The air was heavy and muted; the dust here had settled long ago.

"Quiet neighbourhood," Clines muttered to himself.

At that moment, the door of the patrol car opened and a uniformed cop climbed out. Clines made his way unhurriedly over, holding open his jacket briefly to expose the badge on his hip.

"Detective." The uniform nodded. He was young, no more than twenty-five, but most of his hair was already gone. As if to compensate for this, his brows were thick and black, giving him a severe appearance which quite contrasted with his relaxed stance, leant as he was against the Government Issue Sedan, one elbow crooked back, arm draped across the roof. "They call you guys out to bird-dog with the rest of us?"

"No better way to spend a Friday night," Clines said dryly. "So how much have you been told about this armoured fleet?"

"Not a lot." The guy jerked a thumb at his partner who was sat at the wheel of the patrol car. "Me and Grigson tailed them this far. They're massing around a warehouse up that way. We're keeping our distance like everyone else."

"How many of ours are here?" said Clines.

"Maybe ten cars. More coming, but who knows how long that'll take." The man gave Clines a shrewd look. "Can I ask if you know what all this is about, Detective?"

"Seems Codey may be trying to start a gang war."

"Christ. You really think he's behind this?"

"Yes. He's kept it quiet. The first we hear he's planning something is the same night he's doing it, so while we're pissing about trying to gather enough men, he can do what he likes."

"You reckon he's planning something with that warehouse?" The uniform cocked one of his substantial eyebrows.

"Can't see why else…" The sound of approaching footfalls interrupted the rest of Clines' response.

"Here." Shepard halted beside her partner and handed him back his cell phone.

"Ah, had an enlightening little chat to Hill, then?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Shepard muttered.

"Well, we'll be off," the uniform said, getting back into his car. "The Captain'll want a perimeter established before backup arrives."

"Keep those lights low," Clines advised.

The uniform raised his hand to the detectives through the open window as his partner pulled the patrol car off the curb and onto the road.

"Do they know what's going on?" Shepard asked, watching the car drive slowly off.

"I don't think any of us know what's really going on here. How has Codey kept this so damn quiet?" Clines muttered. Shepard shook her head.

"Listen, Vinnie, Hill told me some things that I think you need to know."

"Yeah?" Clines snorted. "So he's happy to loosen his lip for you."

"He's worried about Robin."

"So what did he tell you?" Clines fixed his partner with an intent look.

"Robin's no longer a Titan."

"You're kidding." Clines frowned. "Why?"

"The others made him leave. Hill said they threw him out this morning."

"Stupid kid," Clines muttered. "So you believe me now, Ellen? He obviously is Red X. His little friends finally found out about it and they blackballed him."

"No. Hill told me some things…" Shepard looked at Clines uneasily. "I think you really have got this kid all wrong."

"Yeah?" Clines smirked.

"Yeah. Hill found out that Robin's been meeting with a mysterious friend the last couple of days –"

The sudden screech of tires from the end of the road made Shepard fall silent and the two detectives reached warily for their guns. However, as they turned to face to the approaching vehicle, Clines and Shepard quickly identified the beat-up Dodge Diplomat. They exchanged quick looks of astonishment. The front tires of the car jolted up onto the pavement and the brakes whined loudly as the vehicle skidded to a halt. An instant later, the passenger door was flung open and the formidable hulk of Captain Roger Kilcullen lumbered forth, the car's microphone all but engulfed in one beefy hand, curly black cord stretched to its limits.

"That's right – all units! We have a potential Code 572 in progress … I don't care how! Just do it!" The captain roared into his fist, then, awaiting no response, he flung the device savagely back into the car and slammed the door shut with unnecessary force.

"Sir, Tremain's team is on its way," said the sergeant who emerged from the driver's side.

"On its way?" Kilcullen repeated. "They should already be here! Get on that radio and tell them to move their lazy arses!"

"Yes, sir." The Sergeant nodded rapidly and ducked back into the car.

Kilcullen's head turned with a snap towards Clines and Shepard. Such was the thunderous expression on his face that the two detectives were barely able to stop from shrinking back as the captain advanced on them.

"Shepard! Clines!" Kilcullen barked brusquely. "What a night, what a night. It's one damned thing after another."

"Certainly is, sir," said Clines. He noticed, with some amusement, that a napkin was tucked into the collar of Kilcullen's shirt.

"Captain?" Shepard said tentatively, having just made the same observation. The large man glared at her, then down at his chest. He was silent for a moment then, suddenly, a sharp bark of laugher burst out him and he tugged the napkin free.

"All this gang war malarkey interrupt your evening, sir?" Clines ventured, a trace of a grin on his face.

"Detective, you don't know the half of it," Said Kilcullen, discarding the napkin over his shoulder.

"Well, at least we're here nice and early. Get the best seats…"

"Stow it, Clines," Kilcullen ordered. "No, on second thoughts…explain to me exactly how it is that three gangs were able to unite, arm themselves and mobilise right under my nose?"

"Ah. Still working on that, Sir." Clines shrugged.

"Three gangs?" Shepard repeated. "The Codeys, The Glass Circle, and The Trollys?"

"It's going to be one helluva party," said Kilcullen with a kind of joyless satisfaction. He scrubbed a hand over his chin. "But why?" he muttered. "Why the hell are they working together? It can only be Slade…that devious bastard."

Shepard shot Clines a significant look.

"Well, sir," she said slowly. "We've been in contact with Doctor Hill…"

"Correct me if I'm wrong." It was a phrase Kilcullen enjoyed using, mostly because people rarely dared oblige him. "But I thought my good friend, Commissioner Henderson, expressly forbid you two from pressing Hill for information on those kids?"

"Hill phoned me," Clines pointed out somewhat smugly. "And he himself said that Robin's mixed up in this. I'm guessing the kid's cast off his Robin persona and become Red X. Now him and Slade are about to be torn apart by this horde of mobsters. So…not to gloat or anything, but –"

"Vinnie!" Shepard said angrily.

"Well! I didn't want to bring this up again," Clines retorted, "but maybe if you had just let me arrest him at Kings Lot in the first place, he'd be safe and sound behind bars right now and none of this would be happening."

"You can't honestly be trying to pin this entire thing on Robin?"

"If that boy is somehow in the middle of this" Kilcullen broke in "I need to know about it. I want the facts."

"Sir, I just got off the phone with Hill myself," Shepard said. "He's adamant that Robin isn't Red X, not this time. Apparently there's someone else posing as Red X –"

"Ha!" Clines said.

"– Someone working for Slade, maybe. Someone trying to frame Robin. And then there's these Stones…what did Hill call them?" Shepard held a hand to the side of her head, struggling to remember. "Earth Stones? Something like that. Anyway, they're apparently invaluable, and Slade and Codey have both been trying to get their hands on them. That's why they've been at each other's throats."

"Earth Stones?" Clines looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Dammit, Vinnie, you've got to start taking this seriously!"

"Kids, I haven't got the time to sit through another one of your thrilling debates right now." Kilcullen growled.

"Captain," the sergeant called, hanging out the window of Kilcullen's car. "Tremain's on the box."

"Good." Kilcullen stalked back over to the Diplomat, grabbed the radio speaker out of the man's hand and proceeded to launch into a heated tirade.

"I could strangle you sometimes," Shepard said to Clines.

"Come on, Ellen. You have to admit there's a big possibility that Hill's lying to protect Robin."

"If Hill cares enough about Robin to lie for him, he's just as likely to be telling to truth in the hopes of saving him," Shepard argued. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh my God!"

"What?" Clines looked around. Shepard pointed past her partner towards the building across the street. Clines blinked up at the house's shadowy features.

"What am I meant to be looking at exactly?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"That light – can't you see it?" Shepard said quietly. "On the roof. It's…green."

"Where? Oh, I see it now," said Clines. There was a lengthy pause, then Clines made a small sound of disbelief. "Ellen, can you see an orange girl?"

"I see her," Shepard gasped.

"That's a relief," Clines said. "Wait, isn't that –"

"Yes. She's one of the Titans."

"Firemoon? Sun…flame?"

"Starfire," Shepard corrected.

"What the hell are you two doing over there? Star gazing?" Kilcullen shouted irately, brandishing the radio handset at the detectives. "In case it's escaped your attention, we're having a slight crisis here!"

"Sir, you should come and see this," Shepard called. Kilcullen reared back a step, looking very much like a grizzly bear poised on the point of attack. He barked something into the mike, tossed it to the Sergeant, then strode towards the detectives in a menacing, heavy-footed manner.

"This had better be good."

"There, sir." Shepard pointed at the roof of the building where a young girl was perched. She was unearthly, vibrant, her skin seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"She's one of the Titans," Shepard explained rapidly. "If they're here, we should talk to them."

"Ellen?" said Clines, looking appalled.

"You think so, do you, Shepard?" said Kilcullen. His anger appeared to have abated somewhat.

"Yes. They might know things that we don't. It's happened before."

"Fine," Kilcullen said. "Do it." He started heading back towards his car. "Find out what those kids know, then contact me."

"Sir, do you really think it's wise to –" Clines began, but his captain was already swinging down into the passenger seat.

"Roll with it, Vinnie," Shepard said, pleased, as the Diplomat rumbled off down the road in the same direction the patrol car had gone.

"Alright," Clines said with forced lightness. "You can handle this one."

"I will." Shepard returned her attention to the alien girl above them. She cupped her hands to her mouth.

"Hello? Starfire?"

The sound of Shepard's voice clearly startled the girl for, as Starfire spun quickly around, she appeared to lurch off-balance and a second later was toppling over the edge of the building.

"Jesus!" Shepard slapped a hand over her mouth in horror, unable to tear her eyes away from Starfire's plummeting form, only to realise with utter amazement that the orange-skinned girl was not in fact falling but flying, smoothly controlling her decent so that she glided gracefully down.

"Flying…" said Clines in a hoarse voice.

Starfire came to hover at a shy distance from the two detectives. She kept darting hesitant glances over her shoulder at the building behind.

"Starfire?" Shepard repeated faintly.

"I am Starfire," the girl affirmed. Her round, green eyes were luminous in the darkness. "Please…identify yourself."

"I'm a detective – my name's Ellen Shepard. Would you mind coming down here? We'd like to talk to you."

"I would happily converse with you, but I am presently very busy. I apologise, I hope I have not offended you. I must leave now, goodbye."

"Wait! Please? Can we just talk about what's going on at that warehouse?" Shepard said. Starfire rubbed her arms as though chilled.

"I…am afraid that I cannot –"

"Can we talk about Robin?"

Starfire went very still.

"You know of Robin?" she said at length.

"Yes. We know he's in trouble. We'd like to help."

Starfire stared down at the woman, a half-fierce, half-desperate look on her young face. She glanced once more over her shoulder then, evidently having come to a decision, sailed through the air and dropped lightly to the ground in front of the detectives.

"Hello…Detective Ellen Shepard." Starfire thrust out her hand. Shepard couldn't entirely suppress a smile as she reached out and shook it.

"Hi there. This is my partner, Vinnie Clines."

"Yeah, hi, very nice," Clines said. "Now that we're all aquatinted, perhaps you could tell us what's going on?"

"Detective Clines…I believe I have heard your name before," said Starfire, her eyes narrowing very slightly as she regarded the man.

"Uh-huh. I'm sure that Robin's told you a lot of nice things about me." Clines' sarcasm was quite lost on the Tamaranian.

"You are mistaken," she said bluntly. Shepard coughed into her hand to conceal a snort of laughter. Clines looked mildly ruffled, but he quickly recovered himself.

"Mistaken? And here I was thinking that the kid admired me."

"Listen, Starfire," said Shepard, "we've spoken to Frank Hill, and we know that Robin's trying to sort out the trouble with these gangs –"

"You have spoken to Doctor Hill?"

"Yes. And we're here to help. If we work together, we can help Robin and make sure that he is safe."

"That's right. We'll be taking him somewhere very safe," Clines said. Shepard elbowed him in the ribs.

"What?" Clines yelped. "You're happy to lie to her?"

"Vinnie, will you just button it and let me handle this like we agreed?"

"All I'm saying is that we need to drop the pretences here. Robin broke. The. Law."

"You mean to punish him," Starfire said quietly.

"No, honey, no," Shepard said frantically. "Our priority is making sure Robin's okay. We're on the same side as you –"

"How many times have we heard that before?"

Shepard started at the interruption and looked up to find a young man striding boldly towards them.

"You alright, Star?" he said, his single biological eye scrutinising the two detectives warily. Clines had encountered Cyborg once before, though the sight of the half-man, half-machine still shocked him enough to strike him speechless.

"We were merely conversing," Starfire told her companion.

"I thought we said we weren't going to make contact with the cops."

"Look, we called her over," Clines piped up. Even as he spoke, he wasn't quite able to stop staring at the gleaming metal sculpted to the left side of Cyborg's face.

"Oh great, it's you," the youth said with unveiled dislike.

"Real charmers, these kids."

"We won't be inflicting our company on you much longer. C'mon, Star, let's leave the 'professionals' to get on with it."

"Like you left us to get on with it at Stone Hill?"

Cyborg rounded on Clines.

"That whole thing was your own fault!"

"Oh, that's right, it had nothing to do with the fact that your fearless leader almost got the lot of us killed!" Clines shouted, waving a hand angrily.

"Oh boy, Stone Hill again," Shepard muttered. "Can't we just forget about that?"

"With pleasure," said Cyborg. "We've got more important things to do right now then reminisce with this blowhard jerk."

"Just watch it, punk!"

"Don't you be calling me that. Just because you can't do you job properly –"

"You're about to get me really sore, kid –"

"I'm supposed to be scared?"

"Huh-ho!"

"Vinnie, calm down –"

"Go on, kid, you just push me a little further, see what happens! See what happens!"

"No more arguing!" Starfire yelled, the sudden edge of command in her voice causing an abrupt silence. "You are behaving like…like… Dorgo Blug-carcs."

Before the detectives could puzzle out the meaning of the girl's words, they found themselves leaping back in alarm for, at that moment, a small, green boy seemed to have appear suddenly out of nowhere at Starfire's shoulder. He paused to wiggle a finger in his ear, dislodging some dirt, then raked his hands vigorously through his unruly hair, sending out a spray of earth.

"Going mole has its disadvantages," he grumbled.

"Where did you come from?" asked Shepard breathlessly, looking shaken. The boy stared at her blankly.

"Who the heck're you?"

Before Shepard could reply, a gravelly voice spoke from behind them:

"Detectives Clines and Shepard."

The speaker was a slender, cloaked figure who must have materialised out of the very night itself.

"Huh," Clines said. "They've got us surrounded…"

"You must be Beast Boy…and you, I've seen you before. You're Raven." Shepard's voice sounded a little reedier than usual as she addressed the figure whose face was shrouded in the shadows of the cloak's hood.

"You want to talk?" Raven said.

"Er, yes, yes we do. I think it's time we exchanged information."

Raven waited, silent and unmoving. Shepard cleared her throat.

"Do you…agree?"

"Yes," Raven said.

"Alright. So far as we can tell, Codey is about to start a war up at the old warehouse. Now, if Robin has got himself caught up in –"

"What do you know about Robin?" Cyborg broke in, suspicion colouring his voice.

"About as much as Doctor Hill's been willing to tell us," Clines said. Cyborg frowned.

"Hill spoke to you?"

"Yes," Shepard said. "He told us what he knows about tonight."

The Titans exchanged dark glances.

"He told us that Robin is no longer your leader," Shepard went on cautiously. "You had a row over the Red X thing. What you probably don't know is that someone else has been posing as X."

"What?" Cyborg said. "Who? Did Hill know who?"

"No, but Hill believes that Red X, whoever he is, has been working for Slade. When Hill last saw Robin, he had a girl with him. They knew that Codey would be starting a war tonight."

"We must find Robin," said Starfire, determination hardening her voice.

"We can't make a move until our numbers have strengthened," said Shepard. "By the sounds of it, Codey's trying to force his way into the warehouse."

"Yeah," Beast Boy said. "We saw them driving bulldozers up to the doors."

"If Slade's really inside that warehouse, it won't be long before a fire-fight breaks out. This night could very easily turn into a blood bath."

"Have you guys got a perimeter established?" Cyborg asked suddenly. Shepard blinked at him.

"I…don't think–"

"We already have. I've got the co-ordinates here." The youth flipped open an electronic panel on his arm. The detectives stared.

"Oh," Shepard said.

"We need to get inside that warehouse," Raven stated. "Are you willing to work with us?"

Shepard opened her mouth to respond, but her partner beat her to it.

"Yes," Clines said. He gazed levelly at each Titan in turn, his eyes finally coming to rest on Cyborg. "We are the professionals, right?"

"You were expecting someone else?"

Those words would remain with Robin for the rest of this life. An adequate retort eluded him and he could only stand, arms slack at his sides, staring stupidly. It was as though a mute button had been pressed in his mind, leaving blank silence in place of thought; a hopeless vacancy.

"Don't worry, Robin," Slade said. He lifted one hand. Dimly, Robin registered that he was holding something small and spherical. "I'm about to answer all your questions."

In a movement almost too fast to register, Slade hurled the object directly at Robin. The youth threw up his arms reflexively and the smooth ball of metal struck him with bruising force. Instantly upon impact, the front of the strange object burst open and five thick steel cables shot out in opposite directions, whistling through the air and ensnaring Robin. He barely had time to draw breath before the cables snapped taut around him, pinning his arms to his sides and locking his legs together. Two separate cords tipped with serrated points burst from the device and embedded themselves in the brick wall at his back, catching him just as he lost his balance. The disembowelled sphere, now pinned to his chest, emitted a low whir and began to retract the two wires. Powerless to resist, Robin was pulled slowly backwards, his trussed-up shoulders hitting the brick wall with a dull thump. Even as he struggled, Robin knew it was in vain. As long as the cables fixed him to the wall, he was entirely restrained and unable to move.

"Comfortable?" Slade said. The voluminous black cape he wore billowed slightly as he crossed the clearing. Isileet's wide, uncomprehending eyes darting between Robin and the approaching masked man.

"Let me see the Stones, Isileet," Slade said, extending his hand. Isileet handed him the box compliantly, one arm still curled around the shoulders of the unconscious blond girl.

"The Earthen Lord's Stones," Slade breathed, walking unhurriedly back towards Robin. The youth thrashed against his bindings as Slade drew near but his movements were totally restricted. Slade halted in front of him and reached into the box. With infinite care, he drew out one of the luminous Stones and held it tauntingly in front of Robin's eyes. "Fascinating items, I put a lot of time and effort into collecting them. Now, thanks to you, I own the complete set.

I promised to explain everything to you, Robin, and the time has come to do it. You see, for some time I have been aware of the existence of four ancient Stones of great power. Like so many, I had heard the rumours, fragments of a myth, vague speculation. Yet I was less sceptical than most. Where others saw unconnected nonsense, I began to see a distinct and complete picture – an ability, Robin, which we two share. As intriguing an enigma as the Stones posed, I felt no initial compulsion to seek them out. My mind was otherwise occupied. It was only when I came into contact with this interesting young lady that my curiosity intensified."

"You." Robin stared almost blankly at Isileet. "This whole time, you knew. I trusted you, tried to help you, and you stabbed me in the back."

"Robin…" Isileet didn't meet his eyes. "I – I thought you knew…" The girl darted a nervous look towards Slade. "All your time working together in Gotham, I thought Batman would have told you. He's really Slade."

"Batman is not Slade!" Robin's voice shook with rage. "This is all a lie!"

"Don't lose your composure now, Robin," Slade said shortly. "You need to pay attention, gather the facts methodically." He turned to a crate, placing the box of Earthen Lords Stones on top before unfastening the latch. The front face of the crate swung down, revealing several television monitors. On their grainy screens the dark exterior of the warehouse was visible. Slade paused, studying the monitors intently for a moment before abruptly resuming his narrative:

"On June the first, I learnt that you had been shot. You can imagine the alarm I felt. I hadn't thought you so careless, even though it's something I've come to rely upon. During the weeks that followed, I divided my attention between monitoring your recovery, and learning all I could about the Earthen Lord's Stones. Isileet was most useful in the latter pursuit. I quickly came to realise the Stones' true power and I set about researching their last known locations. I found that an alleged Earthen Lord's Stone had been at auction just two years ago. I was amazed to learn that an associate of mine, Damien Codey, had come into possession of the Stone through Sotheby's. I approached Codey with a generous offer, an offer that he would have been wise to accept. But he proved most disobliging. So reluctant was he to part with the Stone that he was willing to destroy our beneficial alliance and gain a dangerous enemy. His men paid for his mistake. I allowed Codey to keep his Stone temporarily.

"Isileet knew of the locations of other three, and so the hunt began. The first Stone was not difficult to find. I expect you know something about that, don't you, Robin?"

"Cradle Building," Robin said unevenly. "Codey knew that Silvia Dell had a Stone. He sent Redfield to get it. He was already there when you arrived – you threw him through that window."

"Yes. Redfield. He was a pleasure to dispose of. After Isileet Awakened the Stone, we departed. Codey and his lackeys were, by then, baying for my blood, and their thirst for vengeance was soon public knowledge. I knew that Codey's violent and inept methods would be difficult to overlook, even for Jump's bungling police force. More importantly, I knew that news of my return would have reached you."

Slade looked at Robin over his shoulder. "We were long overdue for a chat. I could see that you had failed to learn anything from your escapades as Red X. You still refused to accept the obvious, denying what you instinctively knew to be true. Robin is the façade. Serving me as Red X was the one thing that made you feel complete."

"No –" Robin hissed. Slade began moving slowly towards him.

"You're a brilliant young man, Robin, but this single thing, this fundamental truth, you failed to grasp. I knew I was the only one who could teach you. So I had Isileet don the persona, to serve as a reminder of what you had, what you can still have. And me? Well, I selected a somewhat different approach, taking up the mantle of your former mentor. An effortless task. It was almost sad to see you abandon common sense so readily." Slade halted in front of Robin and shook his head, his single eye gleaming in the shadows of the mask slit. "You knew that Batman would not have come to Jump. You knew he would never break into Gotham Museum, nor attack your friends, nor consort with a criminal posing as Red X. But most of all you knew, in your gut, you knew that he would never forgive you for what you did that night."

Dread crashed over Robin like a black wave. His mouth went horribly dry.

"Murdering a man?" Slade murmured softly. "I've always known you had it in you, Robin, but Batman had no idea what you were capable of. He was a fool, a weak teacher. It's from him that you've learnt to be ashamed of what you are. He couldn't cope with the fact that you were willing to go further than him – to go as far as you needed to…"

Robin shook his head helplessly, unable to utter any word of defence or denial. Slade's eye remained fixed on him as his voice rolled smoothly on:

"You chose your path that night. It has led you to me. I am your true teacher. He was never worthy of you. But you still try to deceive yourself, clinging to your past, longing for the day when you will win back his approval. In many ways you are still a child. I hardly needed to do anything more than give you what you wanted." Slade reached back behind his neck and fingered the black cowl which hung down between his shoulders. "A mask."

"No…" Robin choked.

"You see now, don't you?" Slade's voice was so low that only Robin could hear him. "Underneath these masks we wear, we're the same. You couldn't bear to admit it to yourself, but you knew I wasn't Batman the moment you saw me. That didn't matter to you. All that mattered was that I gave you what you wanted."

"I never wanted this," Robin burst out. "Everything I've done – it was all your manipulation –"

"Now, now, Robin. It's time you learnt to take responsibility for your own actions. Let's not forget you neglected your team. You placed blind trust in 'Batman' and in Isileet. Conscious decisions, your choices that brought you to this situation." Slade kept his eye trained on Robin's face. His voice was nearly a whisper. "I will give you a family. I will make you powerful and together we will change the world. No more crime, no more war."

"You're insane," Robin said raggedly.

"You're tempted."

"No."

"I am giving you a perfect life," Slade murmured. "And you, Isileet."

"Me?" the girl said uncertainly. She had left the unconscious girl lying on the floor and was now stepping hesitantly closer to the masked man.

"Soon we will be a family. Completely loyal to one another. Commanding vast power. We will be the strongest force on the planet." A smile was audible in Slade's voice. "No, Robin. I haven't lost my mind. I intend to use the Earthen Lord's Stones to –"

"Use them?" Isileet cried in alarm.

"You know better than to interrupt me," Slade said. Colour rushed to the girl's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Slade… it's just you told me you didn't want to use to Stones."

"A necessary deception, my dear. You were not ready."

"Ready? But…" Isileet said. Robin watched as she shook her head uncomprehendingly.

"The power of the Stones will be mine. You will complete the Rite and activate the four Stones."

"I won't!" Isileet shouted. Slade turned slowly to face her and the girl took a fearful step back. "Please – think of the destruction the Stones caused the last time they were used. The world could be destroyed! I thought you understood that."

"Oh, I understand," Slade said. "I understand better than you, Isileet. You are a slave. Your family were all slaves. Your life has no purpose outside of these Stones: gathering them, guarding them, serving them. You live in fear of the very thing that can free you."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Your ancestors were blind, foolish. They never understood that using the Stones would release them. The Earthen Lord is merely a vessel. It is the Harachim who are the true lords. Without you the Stones would lose their power. Isn't it time you started living your life, Isileet? Give me your burdens, give me the power of the Stones. Make me an Earthen Lord."

"You? But even if – even if you become an Earthen Lord, you wouldn't be able to use the power of the Stones. I refuse to do it. The Earth could be damaged irrecoverably, it would just be like the first time –"

"You're repeating the lies that have enslaved your people for over ten thousand years," said Slade, unmoved. "What about those doubts you've always had? What if the Stones were activated again? Could you find freedom at last?"

"I can't listen to this," Isileet muttered. "Even if I wanted to –"

"And you do."

"I never said that!" The girl darted a guilty look in Robin's direction.

"You need to trust me, Isileet. I have studied the Stones. I know how to control their power."

"No. You can't know – the first Earthen Lord didn't even know! Besides, she is the Earthen Lord today. The only way you could gain the power of the Stones would be if…" Isileet's eyes widened. "You can't be suggesting what I think you are…"

"Her name is Tara Markov." Slade went to kneel beside the unconscious girl. He paused to brush dirty blond hair from her face before continuing. "She is a direct descendant of the Earthen Lord. She possesses lithokinesis, a unique gift that allows her to manipulate earth, but she squanders her powers through lack of control – a trait which she seems to have inherited from her ancestors. I have been watching her movements for some time. Tara – or Terra, as she sometimes calls herself – is constantly on the run, leaving a trail of pain and destruction everywhere she goes. This is the doomed existence she leads."

Robin felt a sharp stab of dread at his words.

"What do you want with her, Slade?" he demanded.

"He wants me to kill her," Isileet said tonelessly. Slade raised his gaze to her.

"You and you alone have the ability to transfer the Earthen Lord's power – the power of the Stones – from this feeble girl into me."

"She would have to be sacrificed. You'll only be able to claim her abilities and her place as the Earthen Lord if she is dead."

"You're still focusing on the details. Think of the larger picture. Once the power of the Earthen Lord's Stones comes under my control, you will no longer be a slave, you can live your life in freedom, a part of my family."

"Family?" Isileet whispered.

"Yes. You will be my daughter."

"Isileet, don't listen to him," Robin said. "He's just using you to keep the blood off his hands."

"Still so arrogant, Robin?" Slade murmured. "You presume to issue orders when you have no knowledge of the burden Isileet has had to endure, enslaved since birth. Who are you to deny her freedom?"

"You can't kill that girl!" Robin shouted. "Nobody has the right to –"

"Take the life of another?" Slade chuckled when Robin flinched. "Yes. You're forgetting yourself. You weren't so concerned with upholding those honourable morals when you shot that man at point-blank."

"You shot a man?" Isileet said.

"Robin is not as righteous as he would have everyone believe," Slade said. "He still has a lot to learn. But there will be time for me to teach him. When he is ready, he will join our family. Now, Isileet…ready the Stones."

"Don't do this! It's murder!" Robin yelled, but Isileet had already turned away and was retrieving the box of Earthen Lord's Stones from the top of the crate.

"We'll need to clear more space," she said hollowly. Her hands shook as she lifted each of the four glowing Stones out and positioned them on the floor around her. She glanced at Slade. "You'll…you'll need to move the Earthen Lord. She can only enter the ring once the Stones have merged."

Slade lifted Tara Markov effortlessly into his arms and deposited her limp body on the long stainless-steel table.

"Isileet!" Robin fought futilely against the tangle of cables that held him. "Isileet, listen to me – you're about to murder an innocent person!"

"Behave yourself now, Robin." Slade was suddenly looming over him. Robin clenched his fists hopelessly.

"If that girl dies, I swear to God–"

"You will be silent."

"–I'll make you pay for it, you sick, twisted–"

Slade backhanded him across the face. The force of the blow made Robin's neck crack. Slade gripped his chin painfully between thumb and forefinger and forced his head back at an awkward angle so that their gazes met.

"I won't tell you again," the masked man said softly.

"Slade…I don't know if I can…" Isileet stammered faintly, her eyes fixed on the thin trickle of blood escaping Robin's mouth.

"Just remember why you're doing this, Isileet," Slade said, releasing Robin and moving to face the girl. "Soon you will be free. And we will be family."

Isileet managed to nod jerkily. She was clearly doing her best not to look in the direction of the table upon which the small blond girl was slumped.

"Are you sure you know what this involves?" Isileet swallowed thickly, her features pale and strained.

"Yes, I have already prepared an Anointed Dagger." Slade drew his cloak aside and Robin caught a fleeting glimpse of the golden handle of a dagger sheathed in his belt. If possible, more colour drained from Isileet's face.

"Will you –?"

"Yes. I will take care of the girl," Slade said. "Are you ready?"

"I – yes. Yes, I'm ready."

"Good." Slade slid the dagger from his belt. "Then begin the Final Awakening."

Chapter Text

Firestorm

"I can count about fifty of them." Cyborg held the tip of his finger over the top of the wall and swivelled the tiny embedded camera to scan the parking lot in front of the warehouse. "They have three bulldozers out front and another one round the side."

"We need to see this, Vinnie." Ellen Shepard pursed her lips. "I'm taking the car right in so you can get on the hood and take a look over." Slowly she manoeuvred up to the wall. The alley was quiet in spite of the four blue and white police cars parked in the shadows, their occupants standing next to them in the moonlight with weapons drawn.

"Are you sure you should be exposing yourselves, Detectives?" the Uniform sergeant whispered nervously. "Orders were to wait for Tremain and the SWAT team."

"Don't worry," Clines whispered back as he carefully climbed up onto the car. "We just need to get the layout."

"He means that he doesn't trust me," Cyborg cut in.

"Cool it kid." Shepard smiled apologetically. "Nothing like seeing first hand what we have to go into."

Cyborg grunted noncommittally.

"Holy..." Clines let out a low whistle. On the other side of the wall a motley collection of cars and people carriers was assembled with armed men, at the ready, crouching in the shadows behind them.

The bulldozers were drawn up, blades raised, in front of the roller doors of the warehouse. As the Titan and the detective watched, a single shot rang out and the three yellow machines began to lumber forward across the asphalt, gaining speed as they approached the doors. With a grinding crash they were tore through the doors like tin foil and, half inside, raised their blades and wrenched the shiny metal outwards, leaving the way clear to the dark interior.

For a moment no-one stirred and then, as the bulldozers moved clear, dragging away the wreckage of the doors, the fleet of cars started up and moved slowly forward to take up positions about twenty feet from the entrance, followed by the men on foot.

A shouted order and some small groups of men, crouching low, ran forward into the darkness, quickly moving to the side so as not to be silhouetted in the opening. From inside there was no response and, apart from the sound of engines, the exterior was also still, like a storm waiting to burst.

"Lights!" the voice continued and the car headlights suddenly penetrated into the warehouse. All that was visible was a wall of packing cases and the advance parties – five or six groups of three or four – moved cautiously forward.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone here," one of the men inside shouted. There was a wave of nervous laughter from behind the cars and some of the covering troops began to move forward clicking their weapons onto safety.

As they cleared the cars, there was a flicker as the lights inside the warehouse and the floodlights in the parking lot suddenly came on, capturing the gangsters, like a flash photograph, surprised and dazzled in the open. They looked around, uncertain whether to continue forward into the warehouse or to return to their positions by the cars.

"Get inside, you freakin' clowns!" There was a shout from whoever was commanding the operation and some of the men ran quickly into the warehouse, while the rest scurried back behind the shelter of the cars.

In the glaring neon-lit interior, the advance party could now be seen clearly, some dressed in classic gangster fashion in suits, some wearing jeans and sneakers, moving carefully in among the piles of packing cases. Still there was no obvious response from inside but now, a different sound could be heard: a series of creaks and crashes as the fronts of the crates began to swing down.

"Did you open that?"

"Look out!"

A series of cries and groans came from inside the warehouse and a rattle of gunfire. Masked bodies could be seen emerging from the packing cases and flinging themselves to attack the heavily armed mobsters. One or two shots came from behind the cars but someone shouted "Don't shoot, our guys are in there!" and the only shots came from inside the warehouse. From outside there was no way of telling how the battle was going. Four masked figures came to the front of the warehouse and a volley of shots rang from behind the cars. One figure spun round and appeared to explode in a ball of flame. The other three remained on their feet, their clothes ripped and torn by the hail of bullets as they crouched down like ten pin bowlers.

"Robots! Get down! Get them." Behind the cars the rain of fire continued but the robots seemed unaffected as they crouched and rolled what appeared to be bowling balls along the ground. First one, then another of the remaining androids had been destroyed, and lay smoking on the ground, but the three large, round objects were now rolling forward and under the cars.

The first, deflected by the side of a tire, rolled in behind a front wheel and exploded. The entire front of the car was engulfed in a sheet of flame. A dark object hurled a hundred feet up into the air. The other two grenades rolled behind the cars and detonated, spreading flame and shrapnel along the line of vehicles just as the chunk of metal from the first car landed with an ear-splitting bang on the tarmac.

"Geez!" Clines shouted. "That was the engine!"

From inside the warehouse, the sound of battle had, if anything, intensified, and the first casualties were beginning to appear. In twos and threes, covering each other as they ran or limped out of the building, the attackers emerged. Most appeared to be more or less bloodied. Some were helped along by their comrades and they fought a determined rearguard action, firing back into the building as they retreated.

"I don't believe this," Clines grunted. "Forty thugs can't take the place."

"You better believe it." Cyborg was thoughtful. "Those are Slade's robots and they're tough. Those hoods don't know what they're up against."

"Yeah," Clines called down to the cops on the ground. "The robots have driven off Codey's boys and now they're on the attack. They're coming out of the warehouse and gunfire isn't stopping them."

"But something strange is happening," said Cyborg. "The goons have got a trick up their sleeve. Look at those bulldozers!"

As the robots ran towards the line of cars, the bulldozers that had broken down the doors began to move. Each pulled on a cable and it was clear that Slade was not the only one who could spring a trap.

"What are they connected to?" Cyborg exclaimed. "No way – it can't be? But it is. It's chicken wire!"

As the bulldozers moved inexorably onwards, the cables lifted a sheet of wire netting up and over the robots, trussing them up, as if in a parcel, their arms and legs tangling and snagging as they struggled in the heavy wire netting.

Some of them had been trying to roll bombs at the gangsters and the round balls were now trapped in the wire with them. As they began to explode, they flung bits of flaming metal, cables, cogs, wheels and burning clothing into the night sky.

"Okay, guys. We got them. Let's move! Let's move!" The gangsters picked their way back through the debris of dismembered robots and headed back into the warehouse. Around the side, the third bulldozer was being driven straight through the wall, followed by another group of armed men. The sound of shouting and falling masonry around the back where Cyborg and Clines could not see indicated that at least three sides of the building were under attack.

Inside the police car, the radio came to life. Shepard picked up the microphone. "Yes, Captain. The hoods are going in. They've taken out a lot of robots. They're attacking again now and not meeting any resistance."

"Well listen up." Kilcullen's crusty tones were unmistakeable. "Tremain is here and she's on her way round to support you. We have State Troopers on all the exit roads. The National Guard will be here in half an hour. If Slade is in there, then we have the whole Jump City crime wave surrounded."

Lieutenant Tremain, in grey battle fatigues slid into the car next to Ellen Shepard as the Captain finished speaking. "My men are positioned along the wall, ready to go over," she said. "We're still outnumbered, but we have the advantage that the hoods' attention is elsewhere. Tell the Captain we're ready."

Overhead, the sound of a police helicopter revealed the Captain's position and his voice, greatly amplified, echoed over the beat of the rotors. "This is the police. We have this area surrounded. Lay down your weapons and come out of the building with your hands up. This is the police. You are surrounded. Come out of the building with your hands in the air."

Suddenly, from inside the building, came the renewed sound of gunfire. The SWAT team members ducked below the wall but it was soon clear that the shots were not aimed at them. And now, in addition to the small arms fire, there was the sound of heavier weapons, and the tell tale buzz of a multi-barrelled machine gun.

All at once, the gangsters appeared, running panic stricken out of the building.

"Tanks!" one of them yelled. "Slade has got freakin' tanks in there. Let's get the hell out of here." Several of the men leapt into one of the cars and started to pull away, but as the vehicle began to move it was struck by a shell fired from inside the building and caught fire with a tremendous explosion.

"Get out! Go! Go! Go!"

One of the bulldozer drivers had been hit and the great yellow machine rumbled along the wall of the warehouse, knocking down the brickwork until it struck one of the structural steel pillars and ground to a halt, its occupant slumped in his seat.

"They're getting away, Captain," a voice came over the radio. "Do you want us to try and stop them?"

There was a pause and then Kilcullen came onto the loudspeaker. "No," he said heavily. "Let them run. Looks like we've got more than enough on our plate without having Codey's mob in the middle of it."

Shepard looked at Tremain. "You're not thinking of going in there, are you?"

"I shouldn't think so. It would put my men in danger with no clear purpose. I guess we wait for the Guard to show up."

"I wonder what's in there, Lieutenant. I can't believe they'd really have a tank."

"There's one way to find out." Tremain opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"Adams!" she called to one of the men by the wall. "I want you to get Archie out of the bus."

"Yes Ma'am!" The trooper looked puzzled. "Where is the bomb?"

"No bomb. Archie's just going in to take a look around. Unless you'd like to go in yourself?"

"No problem, ma'am. That robot can crawl in there ahead of me any time."

They watched as the bomb disposal robot, controlled by what looked like a video game joystick, crawled down the ramp from the SWAT team's armoured vehicle.

"Just one problem, Lieutenant." Adams came up to his commander. "How do we get Archie over the wall? He weighs 800 pounds."

"Perhaps we can help there." The two police officers looked round in surprise as Cyborg came up.

"Thank you, but I doubt there's anything you can do. That wall is seven feet tall." Tremain turned back to face Adams.

"I think you should listen if he has an idea, Lieutenant." Shepard, who had been watching the scene, joined them.

"OK. What did you have in mind?" Tremain was still openly sceptical.

"I need to phone a friend." Cyborg flipped open his communicator. A minute passed and then a whorl of darkness appeared at Cyborg's shoulder. Raven's hooded head emerged, the shadowy flares of black matter consumed beneath the billowing folds of her cloak.

"What is it that needs to be lifted over the wall?"

Tremain, too surprised by the girl's sudden materialisation to answer, pointed silently at the tracked robot, the size and more or less the shape of a baby elephant, standing behind the police car.

"That can easily be arranged." Raven held out her hands as if she were lifting a vase of flowers and, with her eyes closed, moving it along a table. The robot appeared to shimmer slightly and, as the astonished police officers watched, it slowly lifted up over the wall and was set down gently on the other side.

With an effort, Tremain turned briskly to the control officer. "Right, Adams. You should be able to take it from there. Let's see what there is inside."

On the other side of the wall, the little robot began to move cautiously towards the warehouse, its trunk-like arm scanning right and left ahead of it.

"Still a number of casualties inside." Adams looked up from the television monitor. "At least some seem still to be alive."

"Can you see any tanks?" Shepherd was looking over the man's shoulder.

"No tanks – so far. No! Look over there, moving next to the crates. It's a robot; but not humanoid. See, it has wheels and I guess that's a cannon mounted on the top. Look. Three of them!" Adams zoomed the camera in on the shapes inside the warehouse.

Clines leapt down from the hood of the car and looked over Adams' shoulder.

"Shopping carts on steroids!" he exclaimed and, once pointed out, the resemblance was clear to everyone. The base had swivelling wheels and the machinery was held in a basket shaped container. Above it was a gun turret with glass covered apertures for cameras and sensors.

"It's focussing on us! Get back quick!" Adams called to the men crouched in the alley as the turret turned to train the cannon on the wall behind which they were hidden. They moved away, not a moment too soon, as a burst of shells destroyed the brickwork in front of them, so that they stood completely exposed to the deadly machine.

"Run for it!" Cyborg yelled, but the gun was already beginning to spray bullets towards the police line. The shells came straight towards the group of policemen. Nothing could save them, it seemed, but suddenly the air in front of them was thick and blackened, deflecting the bullets upwards and over their heads.

"Quickly, Cyborg," Raven ground out.

"Go it!" the youth shouted, and Raven dropped the shield just as a shaft of laser light lanced from Cyborg's arm to the robot's sensor openings. The stream of shells stopped briefly and then resumed, firing randomly into the air and the ground. On the television monitor the other robots had disappeared. All that could be seen were the piles of packing cases.

"That was…" Tremain looked at Raven, unable to complete her thought.

"We're lucky the other two didn't attack." Raven shook her head. "We should move back. I need a minute to rest."

"Hey! What's that?" Beast Boy jerked round to look over the parapet. "Sounds like cannon fire." Below him, the mob army were in their cars speeding away from the warehouse. The police were moving backwards under cover of the surrounding buildings.

"Codey was right," the changeling muttered. "It's Slade in there."

A slight breeze stirred Beast Boy's hair and he stiffened, tilting his head and sniffing at the air.

"Couldn't be." He frowned. Several seconds passed as his nostrils continued to quiver then, unable to resist, he withdrew from parapet and morphed into the form of a squat basset hound. He bounded to the other end of the rooftop. His nocturnal eyes immediately caught the movement of a solitary figure who was hurrying up the street in the direction of the warehouse. Beast Boy whined. In the blink of an eye, the basset hound had disappeared and in its place was the tiniest of bats, no larger than a bumblebee. Pausing to adjust to his new form, Beast Boy clutched at the gravelly surface of the parapet with sharp claws, then leapt forward, strong, elasticised wings swelling as he sailed along the air currents. Beast Boy emitted a series of high frequency vocalisations and his bat-senses quickly painted a detailed picture of the shadowy roadway below. The pounding footfalls of the figure reverberated like gun shots in Beast Boy's sensitive ears. The bat soon had the stranger's location pinpointed and plunged, quick and direct as a dart, towards the ground. Beast Boy pulled up at the last second and morphed back into a human as he landed.

"Doc?" the boy called uncertainly. The figure in front of him started violently, whirling around so quickly that he almost tripped over.

"I knew I smelt you!" Beast Boy crowed in delight. The headlights of an approaching car prompted the boy to grab the hand of a very shocked Francis Hill and tug him off the street and down the nearest alleyway.

"Beast Boy," Hill panted once the car had sped past the mouth of the alleyway. His face was pale and he had thrown out one hand to steady himself against the wall, the other clasping Beast Boy's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Of all the days to take a trip down this end of town. Haven't you noticed the massive hullabaloo gang war's been going on up the road?"

"That's why I came," said Hill intensely. "It's Robin – I know he had a falling out with the team, but he needs your help –"

"We know, we know," Beast Boy interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We've got a plan all worked out."

"But – how –?"

"Long story, no time."

"But are the others here? And the police?"

"Yup. We're all working together – it's a little weird. Anyway, Doc, we'd better find you some cover fast before this thing blows up."

"What? No, you find yourself somewhere to hide. I need to get to Robin."

"Hah! Good one," Beast Boy snorted. "Me? Hide? I'm a Titan, remember? You're the civilian. That means I order you to take cover until it's safe. You shouldn't really even be here. I mean – what if you got hurt?"

Hill blinked at the teenager in disbelief.

"Beast Boy, I hardly think –" Hill was interrupted by a noise from behind. Turning, the doctor caught sight of a figure standing silhouetted at the mouth of the alley.

"Trouble," Beast Boy growled. "Look's like one of Slade's robots." Hill moved instinctively to shield the boy though, even as he did so, he felt something brush past his leg.

The figure was now charging towards them with inhuman speed and agility.

"Beast Boy – run!" Hill shouted over his shoulder. His eyes widened as he realised that the youth was no longer behind him. "Beast Boy?"

All at once, a thunderous roar erupted and Hill's head snapped forwards once more. His mouth fell open as he watched a huge green mountain lion charge down the alleyway. The approaching figure (Hill could now see that its face was masked, its limbs too long and rigid for a human's) seemed to jerk and falter as it registered the fearsome creature. The robot reached for a weapon from its belt, but by then the lion was already upon it, springing through the air. Its front paws hit the robot's chest with a force like a freight train. Flung backwards, the anthropomorphic machine flailed, locking one arm around the massive, snarling carnivore so that the two went down together. In an instant, the robot was pinned it to the ground, lethal canine teeth were snapping inches from its masked face. The lion roared again, then, with one clean swipe of razor-sharp claws, tore the machine's head neatly from its shoulders.

The whole thing happened so quickly that Hill could only blink in amazement as the robot's head rolled away and the mountain lion shrunk back into the familiar form of a boy.

"Hm," said Beast Boy as he rose from the decapitated body and glanced thoughtfully back at Hill. "I guess the safest place for you is with me then."

"Beast Boy – that-that was unbelievable!"

"Thanks," Beast Boy sniffed. "Just the one isn't too hard to handle – it's when they attack in groups that you've gotta look out. So we'd better amscray in case more show up. Come on, there's a building across the street where we can hide."

"Right," Hill said dazedly.

"Don't worry, Doc." Beast Boy smiled. "I'll look out for you."

Hill nodded wordlessly and followed the boy from the alleyway.

Chapter Text

Just Before Dawn

Isileet threw out her arms. Her dark hair whipped around her face as she began to chant,

"Powers of Fire in thrall,
Of Water and Fountain,
Of Air arching up over all,
Of Earth and of Mountain."

Her voice was low, yet somehow resonant. The ancient words she spoke split the stale air of the warehouse like thunder. The four Earthen Lord's Stones, spread in a rough circle around her, began to glow brighter and brighter until even the farthest reaches of the cavernous warehouse seemed bleached in their light. As Isileet repeated the chant a second time, the Stones rose slowly from the ground and orbited her. The dazzling drops of light picked up speed at an alarming rate, their distinctive colours merging into a wide, unbroken ring around Isileet.

Robin blinked through watering eyes, fighting to keep his gaze trained on the girl's fast-disappearing figure.

"Isileet – you have to stop this!" His throat was raw with shouting. Isileet could still hear him, he knew she could, but what use was that if she would not listen?

Slade was nowhere to be seen. That was perhaps worst of all. Robin thought again of the golden dagger Slade had drawn from his belt. He thought of the girl – Tara – lying still and unresisting on the stainless-steel tabletop. She was going to die. They were going to kill her and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Robin thrashed wildly against his bindings, though the steel cables were unyielding; hard, serpentine bands that cut painfully into his sides. He raised his eyes once more to the blazing circle of light. At the centre, Isileet was still visible; a vague silhouette. It took Robin a moment to realise that the girl's chanting had ceased and that a strange, profound silence had descended upon the small clearing in the middle of the warehouse. Robin repressed a shiver. The clean, coruscating light of the Stone-circle was mesmerising, and the prospect of disturbing the church-like quiet was suddenly very daunting. Robin wet his lips.

"Isileet!" he shouted. His voice jarred, ugly and foreign in his own ears. "You know this is wrong – it's murder!"

Robin thought he saw Isileet's wavering figure turn slightly towards him.

"Slade is just using you," he insisted. "He's manipulated both of us from the beginning."

"Be quiet," Isileet snapped.

"You think killing this girl will free you somehow? It's a lie – and you only believe it because you want to!"

"Shut up!" Isileet cried, and clamped her hands over her ears. "Mithard, Havah, Agnar, Mairee," she began to chant. "Mithard, Havah, Agnar –"

"You want to become a murderer? Is that what you want?" Robin shouted.

"Continue, Isileet." Slade's calm voice made Robin start violently. The masked man had appeared at the edge of the circle, Tara Markov in his arms.

"M-Mithard, Havah…" Isileet went on shakily. Gold sparks exploded at random as the Stones revolved at an even faster rate. A low thrumming sound could now be heard; Robin could feel the force of it reverberating in his chest.

"…Agnar…Mairee…" Isileet sounded as though she was under immense strain. The light of the Stones had reached a blinding intensity.

"Alright. That's enough," the girl ground out. At once, Slade stepped forward into the circle, his torso passing through the ring of light without difficulty. He deposited his burden at Isileet's feet. Robin could make out the glint of the golden dagger still clasped in Slade's hand.

"Stop – stop this!" Robin roared in desperation. "Isileet! He's lying to you! You have to believe me."

"Do not listen to him," Slade said, now cold and commanding. He towered over Isileet, the black folds of his cape almost encircling them both, hiding Tara Markov's inert form from view.

"He wants to murder that girl!" Robin raged. "And you're helping him – you're helping!"

"I – I don't know if I –" Isileet looked at him, her face stiff with barely repressed panic. Her gaze then dropped abruptly to where Tara Markov lay. She closed her eyes and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Isileet. Focus." Slade had her by the shoulders. "Remember why you're doing this."

"Why are you doing this?" Robin demanded, leaning forward heavily against the stranglehold of the cables. "For freedom? You won't be free if you obey him – he'll imprison you. You think it will stop at this? You're wrong. The murder you commit here – it's just the beginning."

Isileet shook her head silently, shrinking back from Slade. The man maintained a bruising hold on her for several seconds longer then, suddenly, he let go.

"Robin, Robin," Slade sighed. He turned and strode unhurriedly from the circle, leaving Isileet rooted to the spot. "You never learn."

"I won't let this happen," Robin growled.

"So stubborn," Slade said quietly. Robin gazed past his shoulder.

"Isileet – get out of here! Take the girl and go, it's not too late –"

"You never learn," said Slade. Robin had no time to prepare for the fist that smashed into the side of his face. He felt the soft flesh inside his cheek split against his teeth; spittle and blood escaped his slack lips as his head snapped back. He blinked twice, his eyelids dazed and sluggish. The pain took a moment hit, lancing through the muscle along his lower jaw.

"Complete the ritual, Isileet." Slade's voice sounded remote despite his closeness. "Do it now. You will be free."

"No," Robin slurred. "He's lying, Isileet, he's –"

Slade's fingers locked into Robin's hair, wrenching his scalp with agonising force and jerking his head back as far as it would go.

"This is for your own good," Slade said.

"Liar," Robin croaked. His chin was wet with blood.

"Don't!" Isileet shouted. Robin could not turn his head to look at her with Slade holding so tightly. "Please stop –" the girl said. "I don't want any of this!"

"Obey me," Slade barked. "And you will have your freedom."

"Liar." Robin could only mouth the word, for Slade's other arm had come to press down on his windpipe.

"He–he's right," Isileet whispered.

"Isileet?" Slade turned sharply. Robin gasped a ragged breath of relief as the pressure on his neck lifted. "You will do as I command, my dear." Slade's voice was soft, dangerous.

"I – no, I won't." Isileet stumbled back a step. "You just want power. You don't care about my freedom. You are a liar."

"Do not be foolish," Slade murmured. He stepped towards her.

"Stay away from me," Isileet hissed. She didn't manage to scramble far before Slade reached her, then he had hold of her and she was thrown savagely down into the middle of the circle.

"The Earthen Lord will die," Slade said through his teeth. "You will have no choice but to transfer her power into me." The gold dagger was in his hand again and he was advancing on Tara Markov.

"No!" Isileet struggled to her feet. Robin raised his head up in time to see her leap at the man.

"Insolent child!" Slade roared, swinging around to meet her. Perhaps Robin blinked at that moment, or perhaps his eyes simply refused to register what happened. Everything after that seemed to hold in place for an impossibly long moment. The scene was like a snapshot that imprinted itself on Robin's mind. There stood Slade, his arm crooked, hand hidden by Isileet's shoulder. His other hand gripped the girl by the neck of her suit, drawing her close. Isileet's body was twisted and bent as if she was trying to curl in on herself. Her head hung back, features contorted, eyes wide and locked with Robin's.

A hole in time. Dead. She was dead. He looked at her face. His heartbeat was a painful spasm somewhere, disconnected. He heard the thump of his blood in his ears as the moment passed. Then Slade had released her body. Then she was crumpled on the floor. Then the ground was shaking. Then Tara Markov's skin was glowing, pulses of golden light were rising from her in arches, bearing shards of earth up into the air. Then the circle of light shattered, the light of the Earthen Lord's Stones diminished into nothing and they fell to the ground, common grey rocks.

"You fool," Slade said. He was suddenly standing in front of Robin again. Bits of dirt clung to his mask and to his cape. His eye was a single, dark orb, boring into Robin. The dagger was still in his hand.

"I would have made you a god," the masked man said.

Gunfire erupted close by. Robin flinched and jerked his head around as a bullet imbedded itself in the wall inches from his face. When he looked back, Slade was gone.

The earth continued to shudder. A streak of golden light ripped a clump of cement from the floor of the warehouse and an instant later, Robin felt something large impact forcefully with the side of the building. There was a groaning sound and then the wall was coming down, the broad blade of a bulldozer bursting through, sending up a spray of dust and shattered brick. Robin felt one of the cables give at last as a portion of wall collapsed. He landed in a heap on the ground, his limbs uncomfortably tangled. Mere feet away, an explosive detonated with a thundering boom and the large stainless steel table jolted into the air and landed on its side in the rubble close to Robin. He did not attempt to rise, but lay quite still as the fire fight intensified around him. He could see men moving dimly through the shadows; skulking in amongst them were the lanky forms of robots. The roar of weapons fire became continuous, punctuated by the occasional explosion.

"Where the hell is Slade?" a reedy voice shouted through the chaos.

There was a shuddering drone and Robin thought he saw a tank of some description demolish a path for itself through the labyrinth of crates at the edge of the clearing. Cries of panic and rage filled the air, followed by more gunfire.

Robin did not know for how long he lay there in amongst the brick. At some point he noted that fewer shots were being fired, and the voices around him had changed. The exchanges he heard were coherent; the movements of the figures in the shadows carried purpose and coordination.

"Unit two, move in close. There's some kind of a clearing over here." The voice that spoke was female and distinctly no-nonsense. There was a moment's pause, the sound of shifting rubble, then – "We've got a body."

"Found something, Lieutenant?" It was a man who spoke this time. Something about his voice was familiar. Robin raised his head slowly.

"A girl. No pulse."

"What was she doing here?"

"You tell me, Clines."

"Christ. She's just a kid."

"Wait, is she wearing…?"

"My God."

"Clines?"

"Red X…"

"Explain."

"The costume. She's wearing the costume. That means… Shit. Shit."

"What do you –?"

"I have to find him." Clines stepped around Lieutenant Tremain, his gaze darting away from the corpse of the young girl as he stumbled clumsily down a slope of bricks and broken wood and cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Robin!" the detective bellowed. "Robin! Give me a shout, kid! Come on!"

"Here," Robin's voice was a hoarse whisper. "Clines."

"Robin?" Clines called at once. He had heard. Robin glanced up as a hand reached out and gripped the side of the unturned stainless steal table a few feet away from him. There was a pause as Clines hauled himself over a heap of collapsed crates, then he was clambering down to kneel next to Robin.

"You alright, kid? You okay?"

Robin nodded.

"Good. Alright." Clines twisted around and called over his shoulder, "Tremain, I need a medic up here."

There was an answering shout.

"Alright," Clines repeated. He turned back to Robin and studied his face for a moment, finally offering him a weak smile. "What a mess, huh?" He gestured at the wreckage that surrounded them.

"It's my fault," Robin said tonelessly. Clines looked thrown.

"Hey now," he said awkwardly. "I won't let you take all the credit. I never did in the past, right?"

Robin didn't reply.

"Doctor Hill's here, you know," Clines said at length. "So's your team. They helped us out a lot. They're, ah, they're pretty good kids. I have a feeling they'll be glad to have their old fearless leader back."

Robin was surprised to feel his throat tightening. His lips twisted with the effort of keeping his expression under control.

"Hey, hey," said Clines, alarmed. He raised his hand then, and seeming very unsure of himself, gave Robin's hair a light ruffle, dislodging the dust that had settled there. "It'll be alright," the detective said, because he did not know what else to say. "They just want you back like before."

Robin said nothing, though inside he knew, things could never again be like before.

Doctor Francis Hill climbed the stairs two at a time, a borrowed first aid bag tucked securely under his arm. The air was smoky and thick with the smell of burning. At the top of the stairs was a ruined doorway through which a rectangle of sky was roughly framed. Hill mounted the final steps, his shoes scuffing against pieces of brick, wood and mangled metal. He ducked quickly through the charred, empty doorframe and stepped out onto the roof of the warehouse. His eyes landed immediately upon two figures seated on the building's parapet.

"Doctor." Detective Vincent Clines stood and stepped forward to greet him. Hill thought he detected a note of relief in the other man's voice. He was mildly taken aback when Clines' hand landed on his shoulder. The detective inclined his head slightly and spoke in a low voice,

"We just cut him out of some wires and rubble a minute ago. He isn't too badly hurt, but he's not saying a lot." Clines sighed. "I'm going to go and find my partner, leave you two alone. You can probably talk to him better than I can…"

Hill nodded.

"What about, you know, the Titans? They know he's up here?" Clines asked.

"I don't know. I got separated from Beast Boy."

"Okay." Clines glanced back at the hunched figure still seated on the wall. "Well, I'll see you a little later, okay, kid?"

Robin did not respond. Clines' frown deepened and, with a final shake of his head, he strode away across the roof. Hill watched him until he was gone, then took a seat on the parapet. He laid the first aid bag on his lap and turned his head towards the youth.

"Shall I have a look, then?" he asked. Robin's gaze was fixed on a patch of ground several inches from his foot. He was wearing a bulky SWAT jacket over his suit.

"You've got some bruising along your jaw," Hill observed.

"It's fine," Robin said finally.

"Did you have a fight? With Slade?" Hill's questions were again met with silence. "Robin, I need to know what –"

"I can't do this," Robin said abruptly. His eyes rose to Hill's face. "I can't…keep doing this. Lying to myself, lying to everyone else."

"Lying how?"

"I've been pretending to be someone I'm not. Wearing a name, wearing a mask – it's – it's a lie." Robin pushed himself to his feet. "Everything."

"Alright. It's alright, Robin."

"Don't call me that! I'm not him, I'm not anybody." His voice shaking, he tore the mask savagely from his face and crushed it in his hand. "I thought I could change myself, I thought if I put this on I could hide the bad things about myself. I wanted to become something more than I was."

"You are Richard Grayson." Hill was on his feet in an instant, first aid kit falling to the ground. "Don't you see that Robin comes from inside of you. He's a part of you."

"So's Red X. Slade was right, I am like him."

"No –"

"I am. And I see that now."

There was a brief silence, then firmly, Hill said,

"You've been through a lot. I think it would be best if you came and stayed at my home again. Let me help you get through this."

"No," Richard said softly. "I need to be alone…with myself."

"And the Titans?" Hill murmured. Richard hesitated only a moment, then placed Robin's mask into the doctor's hand.

"I need to stop pretending, Frank." Richard's face darkened. "People get hurt. People have died because of me."

"You killed that man because you had to – and if you just spoke to Batman, I'm sure he'd tell you the same."

"I hoped..." Richard trailed off. When he spoke again his voice was harder. "But there's no point in relying on him to forgive me. Slade was right about that too."

"What do you mean?"

"Slade knew exactly what to do. He pretended to be Batman. He knew I would fall for it because I – I just wanted…"

"Forgiveness," Hill breathed. "That's who you were meeting with – Slade? And you kept it a secret because you thought he was Batman. This explains everything."

"Not everything," Richard said heavily. "Isileet's dead."

"The girl I met?"

"Yes. She died in order to stop Slade from using the Stones."

"But how did she come to be mixed up in all this?"

"She spent her whole life as a slave to her past. Once Slade knew how to play on that, he got her to pose as Red X and gather the Stones for him."

"So where is Slade now?"

"I don't know."

"Oh no, you're not thinking about going after him, are you?"

"No. I have to leave the past behind. I have to move on."

"Oh." Hill blinked. The two of them were quiet for a while. Hill fixed Richard with an intense look, as if wanting to say something more, yet at the same time unable to. Richard looked up at the sky.

"I'd like you to explain things to the Titans," he said at length.

"You don't want to tell them yourself?" Even as Hill spoke, he knew the answer.

"I can't," Richard said simply.

"Very well then, I'll explain everything," Hill said. Richard nodded. His gaze locked with the doctor's and he held out his hand.

"Thank you. And goodbye," Richard said. Hill smiled sadly and shook his hand.

"Goodbye, Richard."

"I don't understand," said Beast Boy. "Why would he just go?"

"He needed to be alone," Hill replied.

"For how long? Is he coming back? We didn't even get to – to say goodbye." Beast Boy looked from Hill to each of his friends in turn. "What if he thinks we don't want him back? Shouldn't we at least go look for him and –"

"No, BB," Cyborg said gently. The changeling's hands fell to his sides. Cyborg slung a comforting arm around the younger boy's shoulders. "Rob'll work things through in his own time."

"He may return. He may not," Raven said quietly.

"I believe he will return," Starfire murmured. Her green eyes were bright and alive in the strengthening sunlight.

"I think he wanted you to have this." Hill opened his palm.

"His mask!" Beast Boy gasped.

"I can't imagine Robin as a civilian," Cyborg said, taking the mask and holding it carefully in his hands.

"At least we all know he can look after himself," Clines said as he appeared at the doorway, followed by Shepard and Kilcullen. The three of them made their way across the roof of the warehouse towards the small group.

"So he's really gone then," Shepard said, turning in a slow circle and gazing about with no particular urgency. "And just when Vinnie stopped acting like an asshole..."

"Cute, Shepard." Clines scowled at his partner.

"Robin isn't the only one who pulled a disappearing act," said Kilcullen.

"I assume then that you didn't catch Slade?" Raven said, turning to the Captain.

"Not for lack of trying!" Kilcullen barked irritably, though Raven's boldness seemed to have caught him off guard.

"So what's going to happen to me?"

Everyone's attention turned at once to the skinny blonde girl who had spoken. She was standing slightly to one side, looking tense and out of place. Beast Boy was the first to respond.

"Well…you've got cool powers. I mean – I saw you make those rocks fly!"

"Beast Boy," Raven cautioned quietly.

"What?" The changeling reddened. "There's a spot opened up on the team now, isn't there? Terra should join us!" He blurted out.

"Hold your horses there, son," Kilcullen rumbled. He was still watching Terra shrewdly. "We've got some questions to ask this little lady."

"I-I blacked out down there. I have no idea what happened," Terra said hurriedly, her eyes darting towards the Titans, silently pleading for help.

"We are working together now, aren't we?" Cyborg said. He glanced meaningfully at Clines. "Why don't you let us handle the questions?"

"I do think they can handle it," Clines said to Kilcullen.

"Well." The captain rubbed his chin. "I'd be an idiot if I hadn't come to that conclusion myself after seeing what I saw last night."

"That's that then," Shepard said, smiling.

"It is early morning, my friends, and this girl needs wholesome feeding." Starfire darted over to Terra and put an arm round her shoulders.

"Oh yeah – but, er, there's no need for you to cook, Star. I bet you're tired from all that fighting," Beast Boy replied hastily. "I can fix her some delicious tofu waffles! What do you think, Cy?"

"Tofu?" Cyborg grimaced. "Man, do not get me started. What she needs is a succulent, juicy, meaty Big Mac."

"A man after my own heart," Clines chuckled.

"Can we find a Big Mac at six in the morning?" Cyborg said.

"That should be possible." It was Raven who replied as Cyborg led the group downstairs. Kilcullen followed, ducking through the broken doorway.

"Don't mind me," the large man growled over his shoulder. "I'll just go and try to coordinate the biggest crime-scene cleanup Jump has ever seen."

"I take it that's our cue to get back to work." Shepard headed for the stairs as well. "Coming, Vinnie?" she called. Her partner waved her on.

"I'll be a minute." Clines jerked a thumb at Hill. Shepard nodded and left.

"You want to know something funny?" Clines stuck his hands into his trouser pockets and sauntered over to Hill. "I think I'm actually worried about that damn kid."

Hill nodded slowly.

"Me too," the doctor murmured. A bitter little smile formed on his lips. "I'm scared to death. Have been ever since I met these kids. I've always thought they needed me."

"But then." Clines frowned. "Robin didn't seem like a kid in there."

"No. Age doesn't make a man." Hill shielded his eyes against the morning sun and squinted at the detective's profile.

"You think he'll be okay?" Clines said.

The two men fell silent. Side by side, they gazed out over the wasteland that surrounded the warehouse. The sun was coming up and the sky was a pale, unbroken blue.