A/N - A Young Justice/Transformers: Prime cross over. Shoot me now :P

Set after the end of season one of Young Justice, somewhere in the middle of season one of Prime.

This story is the product of illness, lack of sleep, extreme allergies and illness again, followed by excitement over Christmas. Yes, yes I do know it has flaws. I can see them, but feel free to point them out if it will make you feel better. I don't mind. I wrote this exclusively for my own entertainment and now post it for yours. If it will amuse you to criticize it, feel free to do so.

I feel the K+ rating is quite sufficient, but let me know if you think otherwise and I'll change it to T.

Story updated to improve spelling and punctuation 08/21/15.

Some days, it's really best if you don't get out of bed.

This was exactly the thought that was running through Robin's head as he plummeted towards a twisting abyss whose blue flame seemed to be reaching out to pull him in, as if gravity weren't already doing that.

It was not a thought Robin had frequently, in spite of his lifestyle choices. You might think that this thought would cross his mind every time he was getting beaten up by a villain, or that it would scamper through the dark recesses of his subconscious whenever he was faced with a problem he couldn't figure out how to solve. He had every right to think this particular thought at least once a day, and several times a night as well. But he didn't.

He wasn't one of those people who spent a great deal of time considering what he might have done to prevent whatever situation he found himself in. No, he reserved his brain power for figuring out how to resolve said situation in a satisfactory manner (as in, not getting killed). There were times, many in fact, where he stopped to think about the possible consequences of his actions before he actually did anything. But once it was done, he didn't generally reflect on it all that much. He found that it was really best that way. If he thought about the past too much, he would be weighed down by guilt, grief and probably some other words that started with G as well.

And so it rather startled him that he was thinking that he shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.

Given the circumstances, it shouldn't have been surprising. All told, it was the only decision he could have made which might have averted his current plight.

If he hadn't gotten out of bed, he wouldn't have gone to Mount Justice, and if he hadn't gone there, he wouldn't have been with the Team when they were given a mission to check into some unsettling activity in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. If he hadn't gone to Blüdhaven with the others, he wouldn't have encountered a masked criminal and his little crowd of minions. And, if that hadn't happened, one of them wouldn't have managed to knock him off the roof of the building they were fighting on and then he wouldn't be falling towards the blue-black abyss.

Falling in and of itself wouldn't be so bad. Robin had a grappling hook designed pretty much specifically for this kind of crisis. Unfortunately, since he had started falling, he and the grappling hook had stopped being on speaking terms, presumably because of some sort of interference from the abyss.

Abyss was really the only term for it.

Even without knowing anything about it, Robin could sense the enormity of the bottomless thing. The twisting darkness beyond its glowing orifice was best described as interminable, though Robin considered that maybe it would be better if it were not described at all.

The merest of seconds passed between the time of Robin's fall and his abduction into the abyss. Long enough only for the rest of the Team to fight their way over, having received a telepathic impression of Robin's moment of panic as he fell because of the link between them courtesy of Miss Martian, but not long enough to actually do anything but stare. Robin disappeared into the abyss, and it winked out, as if it were for him and him alone that it had opened in the first place.

Darkness was to follow his disappearance, long and terrible darkness.

Spinning and rolling head over heels, Robin began to think this must be what it was like to be in a tumble dryer. It had not escaped his notice that he was still alive, nor did that come as any particular shock to him. He had known almost since birth that it wasn't the fall that would kill you, it was the sudden stop at the end if there was no one to catch you on the way down. Only this particular fall did not appear to have a sudden stop ahead. Or below, as the case should be.

Other than the awareness that he was falling, Robin got little impression that there was any gravity to be had. Blanketed in absolute darkness, there were no visual signs, and he could neither hear nor feel wind blowing past. Like he was somehow in an airless chamber, except that he could still breathe. Or at least, that's what he thought. Until he realized that he hadn't taken any breath since this started. Robin didn't make it a habit to hold his breath when falling, as doing so could only impede your senses, especially the ones responsible for timing, which was essential to the avoidance of the 'sudden stop' at the end.

It felt like he'd been falling forever, but his body's lack of demand for additional oxygen gave him the distinct feeling that it hadn't been more than a few seconds and his perception of time was just terribly confused by the darkness and silence.

Suddenly (or perhaps quite slowly, he was uncertain at this point), he saw in the distance a bright light, not unlike the blue flames which had encircled the abyss. Was this the other end, perhaps? He didn't have time to fully absorb the reality of the light, or its potential implications before he was suddenly spat out through it and subject to normal conditions of light, wind and, more importantly, gravity.

Having fallen so long without any other options available, it took Robin's mind a second to engage. A second proved too long as he hit the up-rushing ground hard with his shoulder. He did roll, reducing the impact, but was so thoroughly turned around from the fall and then the sudden stop that he was too dizzy to get up.

Blinking at the swirling expanse of pale blue and white above him, Robin was perhaps more confused than he should have been. It had been a cloudy sky he'd left, and so early in the morning that the sun wasn't even up. Yet here, he recognized the blue sky and white clouds of mid-afternoon on a sunny day.

His mind slowly turned this over, without any particular panic about it. It wasn't as though reality being turned on its head was terribly unusual for him.

There was a rumbling, accompanied by a low vibration. Instinct bade Robin leap to his feet and drop into a defensive crouch, which he did with more success than his dizziness would have led one to anticipate.

A large silver metal thing with two prongs sticking out of the front greeted him. Almost at once, he realized that this was but a very small part of a very big thing.

Casting his gaze upward, Robin took in the appearance of the purple, black and silver robot. It was humanoid, but apparently faceless, in addition to being several building stories tall. It leaned down towards him, throwing a massive shadow before it, sharply pointed black fingers reaching for Robin.

"Hey!" Robin hissed, rolling away from the outstretched hand.

Familiar with aliens and strange technology, Robin knew that he might not actually be under attack, that maybe the robot was just curious or perhaps even concerned, but he wasn't about to make that assumption. Assume all strangers are enemies. He'd learned that the hard way. Villain until proven innocent was the only way to survive in a potential combat situation, however paranoid it might seem to those who didn't spend all their time attempting to avoid being killed by the former while at the same time doing one's level best to protect the latter.

Robin's dodge unfortunately caused him to collide with the toe of another robot who, with the barest shifting of its weight, knocked the wind out of him. It reached down and plucked him off the ground by the cape. Uneasily, Robin watched the ground retreat until he was at face level with the faceless robot. He was less alarmed than irritated. He was, at least in a proverbial sense, being held by the scruff while a rather large, unfriendly non-face gaped at him rudely.

"Are you one of the Autobot's pets?" the robot's computerized voice inquired in a monotone.

"A what of the who?" Robin retorted, deciding to keep his irritation masked for the moment by faux incompetence and very real confusion.

At this point, he realized that he had been dropped into the middle of a debatably small crowd of enormous robots who all clustered around, apparently to gawk at the strange specimen which had been catapulted out of the abyss. Presumably it was their doing, but this was clearly not the result they expected.

"It does not match any description of known Autobot associates," rumbled one of the robots in an off-hand sort of way, as if this hardly mattered.

What the heck is an Autobot? Robin wondered, but didn't bother asking.

"It doesn't matter," this voice was distinctly different from the others, sharp and almost whiningly authoritative "kill it anyway."

The owner of the voice was a different color from the others, possessed a face as well as missiles mounted on its forearms. Sly, glowing red eyes peered at Robin from a distance, sharply curious yet unwilling to take any risks to find out what Robin was or where he'd come from.

A treacherous coward to the core. Robin would know the face of one anywhere, on anything, even something so bizarre as this. Robots were not unknown to Robin, he had encountered many. Some were good, some were evil, but seldom were they so monstrously huge.

The leader's manner and command, in addition to the other robots' utter lack of hesitation, confirmed in Robin's mind that these were the evil variety of robot. However, he was not so helpless as they must have imagined him to be.

Sliding out a birdarang and cutting free of his cape, Robin dropped back to the ground, landing heavily and rolling. He got to his feet swiftly and set to running. He had no interest in a confrontation at the moment. He wanted to know where he was, and to find a way back home more than to actually fight these Goliaths of the robot world. Strangely, it occurred to him that this really wasn't a robot world.

It looked every bit Earth-like, right down to scattered plants and mineral rocks he could actually identify. But he felt like he would know if there were any giant robots tramping around on Earth. It seemed like the Team, or at the very least the Justice League, would have noticed. Unless of course these behemoths had only just arrived. But, if that were the case, when had they just arrived to? Because this was neither the time nor the place from which Robin had departed. That much he was fairly certain of, though when one involved time travel, they could find almost anything in the future. Or past. For the moment, it didn't bear consideration.

It was time to get out of the line of fire.

A large boulder which Robin had been planning to use as cover suddenly exploded in a brilliant flash of blue-white light, and broken shards of it rained down on him. He had suspected that the other robots were armed, but had hoped he was wrong. Just one with missiles was quite bad enough.

Turning without breaking stride, he took in the open landscape. He couldn't make it to cover without getting shot. The robots still stood in their cluster, but the one who had fired now advanced a few paces. It raised its weapon and the end of it began to hum and glow.

Cringing, Robin did his best to prepare himself for oblivion. It was a concept he was long familiar with and had lost his fear of years ago. It was a reality that every superhero faced. And, interestingly enough, this was a scenario he had envisioned before, albeit not in exact detail.

But before the robot could fire, there was a mechanical roar. It echoed from the surrounding cliffs. The robots looked about nervously. Robin didn't know what to expect. The thing he least expected was the thing that happened. At first, there was no sign of what had made the noise. But the robots remained uneasy, as if maybe they knew what it was they were hearing. A moment later, their concern proved valid.

From the high cliff behind Robin there launched a sleek sports car. Its engine seemed to snarl as gravity sent it plunging directly for the robot which had stepped forward. Smashing the robot full in the chest, the bright yellow and black car spun its wheels, seeking traction while still in the air.

The robot fell, a terrible groaning fall, like that of an ancient redwood, and the ground shook at its impact. The yellow car roared forward, driving over the robot's non-face. Screeching, it did a fierce one-eighty and plunged towards the rest of the robots, who opened fire on it. And then, it jumped. There was no rock, no ramp. It just... jumped.

Once in the air, the car twisted sideways, spiraling through the crowd of robots and knocking another one or two down. As it came towards the ground, there was the grinding of metal gears, the unmistakable noise of machinery at work, a transformation in progress.

By the time it hit the ground, the car had become a robot. Robin had by now lost count of the things he had seen that were unexpected, though this one fairly took the cake. But, at this point, Robin was no longer surprised. His day had boarded the crazy train so long ago that nothing short of flying purple miniature elves with BB guns would have surprised him.

This robot too was armed and it did not hesitate to fire on the faceless purple robots. This newcomer had a face, with expressive, round blue and black eyes. In the eyes, Robin could see the courage of a warrior, and a strange concern for his safety that was both unexpected and welcome.

The yellow robot made a noise somewhere between a vacuum cleaner and an insect's buzz. It was a sound which meant nothing to Robin, but it didn't appear to be addressed to him, so he didn't bother trying to figure it out.

"Forget the human, get the Autobot!" screeched the leader of the purple robots, waving his arms frenetically at the yellow robot.

The Autobot made another series of noises, these sounding urgent and commanding. They were clearly addressed to Robin, but he couldn't make heads or tails of them. He shrugged, which was a not-quite-but-fairly-close-to universal gesture of indifference or not understanding.

Though the purple robots were armed with guns, it was evidently preferable to tear the Autobot limb from limb. The robots closed on it, even as it backed away, keeping itself between them and Robin. The Autobot made a final appeal to Robin, but he couldn't understand it.

The robots leaped on the Autobot, grabbing at it. It threw the first one into several others, but was soon weighted down by so many robot bodies, it was rendered virtually helpless. Robin knew he could make his escape while the robots were distracted, but he had never been one to abandon an ally, even one he had just met. And so, rather than fleeing, he entered the fray.

A/N: I will not be posting tomorrow, December 25th, but chapter two should be up the day after Christmas. Merry Christmas, everybody!