The clamor of rowdy teenagers could be heard even as the large yellow bus approached. Tim looked up from the ground, took his hand out of his pocket, readjusted the strap of his backpack on his right shoulder, and let out a long sigh.

Another day of expanding my horizons, he thought.

The crowd of students that shared Tim's bus stop, and which Tim was standing a conspicuous distance away from, moved towards the curb. The bus' air brakes let out a sharp hiss, and the door swung open. Tim took his place at the end of the "line." When he stepped up into the bus, a wadded piece of notebook paper struck him right between the eyes.

Tim didn't blush or look around embarrassed. He just did his best to ignore the giggling and made his way towards his seat.

I can't believe I have to go to school, he thought as his frown deepened. For the past few weeks, Tim Drake had done his best not to feel sorry for himself, but it was growing increasingly difficult. As he sat down alone in the wide seat, he pulled his legs up and rested them on the seat in front of him. My dad is... gone, my fake guardian just got busted by Bruce, and I'm still stuck going to this new school in a new city where everybody thinks I'm a snob... AND I have to ride the school bus.

The bus stopped again and more teenagers piled onboard. A large boy with a football jacket sat down next to Tim. The jock's weight lifted Tim up slightly and the wind wafted the football player's smell into Tim's nose. Tim's nose crinkled at the overwhelming amount of musk in the boy's cologne, and he buried his face into his backpack. He spottted his walkman and thought about putting in his earphones to block out his surroundings, and then thought better of it when he remembered what CD was in his player.

"Hey, Drake," the jock said. Racking his brain, Tim seemed to remember his name was Duncan.

"Yeah, Duncan?" Tim replied.

"How come you never talk to anybody?"

Several answers came to Tim's mind. He already had a rap for being condescending (thanks to his less-than-graciously received introduction speech), so he chose his words carefully. "I guess I just don't have anything to say worth saying," he said.

"That ain't what I hear," Duncan contined. "I heard that you think you're better than everybody else."

Tim knew better than to respond. Duncan was simply trying to bait him into an argument. It wasn't going to work.

When Tim didn't reply, an aggravated Duncan reached back his hand and smacked it across the top of Tim's head. Tim watched the blow coming like it was in slow motion. Every inch that Duncan's arm traveled, Tim's mind told him where he could hit or grab to stop the blow. Off the top of his head, he thought up six different ways to break his arm, using just one hand. Still, he let the blow strike home.

It wasn't a kick to the face. As Robin, Tim had definitely felt worse. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Tim looked up at Duncan with fire in his eyes, staring the larger teenager down with his best Batman impersonation.

Duncan looked shocked for a second, genuinely startled... And then he began to laugh.

"Oooh, Drake," Duncan said. "I'm shakin' in my boots."

The bus came to a stop and all of the students stood up. They'd arrived at their destination.

Tim stood, but waited until last to exit the bus. As the bus grew quiet, he heard on the radio, "...state of emergency. I repeat, all schools..."

And then he was off of the bus and on the sidewalk. He turned, a curious expression on his face, but the driver had already shut the door and was starting to pull away.

His pent up anger was replaced with a flood of concern, but his thoughts were soon shattered as the school bell rang out. "Great..." Tim said out loud. Just what I need. Another tardy.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he raced inside the school along with the other students and headed for his locker.

As soon as Tim stepped inside the fluorescent dyed hall his brow creased with concern. Something was wrong. There was a general air of panic. Peering down the hallway, he saw adults shepherding annoyed students toward the cafeteria.

It didn't take the world's greatest detective to guess that the message he'd heard on the radio was somehow related to the current exodus. Falling into line, Tim suddenly wished for about the fiftieth time that he'd simply stayed in bed. If he was at home, he thought, at least he'd have access to his Robin costume. Maybe then, he'd even be able to help somehow. Here, he couldn't help feeling like a disappointing "super hero". In fact, he deep inside his stomach, he felt like something of a sitting duck. If someone had planted a bomb, there might be something he could do...

No need worrying yet, he told himself. What I need now is more information. For that, I'll just need to cooperate and keep my ears open for a bit.

When he entered the cafeteria, he discovered that might be more difficult that he'd anticipated. The cacophony of the entire school gathered in room was practically deafening. The room was three-fourths full, with students standing in circles of friends and cliques. Here and there, students traded pushes, an especially loud jolt of laughter would rise above the crowd. In short, the room was in chaos.

Tim immediately searched out the authority... The teachers. They were gathered against the wall, standing in front of the stage, and they looked just as confused as everyone else, though there was something present on each of their older, lined faces that Tim immediately recognized and that wasn't found on the students'--Fear.

With a determined look on his face, Tim stepped towards the assembled teachers, hoping to move close enough to overhear their frantic conversation.

In his single-minded pursuit, he almost failed to realize that someone was calling out his name.

"Tim!"

He turned to look over his shoulder, surprised that someone was seeking him out. When he turned, his shock dissipated, but the worry deep in his stomach only intensified. Every moment he was distracted was another he was useless, and Robin wasn't used to being useless.

The familiar frame and face stepped gracefully around a crowd of obnoxiously loud boys. Her pale blue eyes shot them a quick, deeply annoyed glance, before fixing again on Tim's.

Jen, Tim thought. Jennifer Saunders. Ex-gymnast. New student.

Jen had arrived at this school in Bludhaven only days before Tim. As an olympic-level gymnast in training, she had been tutored and home-schooled for most of her life. One day in training, Jen had severely damaged her right ankle. The doctors said her chances of being an Olympic-level gymnast were practically non-existant. Her parents, choosing to side with the doctors, had cancelled Jen's training and enrolled her into public school--presumably to give Jen the chance to live a "normal" teenage life.

Jen, however, was still holding out hope for a complete recovery, and was still exercising regularly and pushing herself far too hard, as could be seen from her muscular build. She oozed annoyance. It was obvious to everyone in the school that Jen had no desire to be in public school. She was also slightly spoiled and arrogant.

Tim always kept to himself. Everything he knew about Jen was things he'd overheard other students saying, or even heard Jen relate to other students. Jen had only begun showing Tim any attention after he'd been forced to give an oral report in front of a class they shared. Tim had chosen to speak on forensic science and evidence gathering... something he knew more about than most forensic scientists.

Tim could only guess that after that, Jen deemed him worthy of her attention, as she had approached him and started a conversation the day after. He was still trying to decide if that was a good thing or not. He was leaning towards "not."

"Hey," she said as she got within a reasonable distance. "What's going on?"

Tim didn't mind Jen's straight-to-business approach. He was used to being around people who didn't waste words.

"I don't know," Tim said. "I was just going to see if I could figure it out. Have you heard anything?"

"Just what the other kids are saying," Jen replied. "Some of them say it's a bomb threat. I heard one kid say they heard there was something bad going down at one of the other schools. Maybe a terrorist." Jen pursed her lips. "I think they're full of crap."

Tim nodded. "Stay here. I'll see what I can find out."

As he turned and walked away, Jen's face stayed in his mind. Her eyes were definitely her most striking feature. Besides their color, they were also large and slightly wide-set. With her button-nose, light skin, and straight, black hair, Jen's wasn't a face one soon forgot.

As he got closer to the teachers, there were less students to hide behind, and Tim began to concentrate on the task at hand. He moved close to a group of students with their backs to a couple of older female teachers who were chatting away. He stayed far enough away from the students to not alert them to his "sidling" and close enough so that it might have seemed to onlookers that he was part of their conversation.

Turning his ear slightly towards the teachers, he did his best to tune into their conversation. With some concentration, he focused in...

"--st awful. They say that the school has been completely surrounded by police, but no one has moved in as of yet."

The other teacher continued, "I heard that the screaming could be heard for blocks, and then it stopped all at once. And there's been nothing but silence from the school since."

Suddenly a younger voice cut in, closer and directed towards Tim. "Hey, you! What are you doing? Get out of here!"

One of the students had noticed Tim's close proximity, and they were running him off. Without a word, Tim disappeared back into the large crowd of students.

As he ducked around students, Tim's mind raced, trying to make sense of the fraction of the conversation he heard.

Suddenly, a hand gripped his elbow. "So? What did you find out?"

Tim faced Jen with concern written all over his face. "Nothing much. You were right. Something is going on at one of the other schools. It sounded pretty serious."

Jen's brow furled, though Tim couldn't decide whether it was out of concern or irritation. She opened her mouth to say something, but Tim cut her off.

"Look, the principal is going to say something."

Jen turned and crossed her arms. "Oh. Great. Now everything will be explained," she whispered.

Tim glanced at her and his lip stretched into a slight grin. It was indeed unlikely that the principal would share any kind of useful information.

Still, a little bit was better than nothing. As the bald man in suit pants two sizes too small cleared his throat, Tim tuned out the buzz around him and focused on every word.

"Attention, students. Attention," the principal said. "There has been a slight emergency at one of our neighboring schools. All that we know at the moment is that a state of emergency has been issued to all of the schools in the area, and that we've been instructed to implement a code yellow."

"As you know from the drills, that means we will be locked inside the auditorium until we receive the all-clear signal."

At a familiar sound, Tim turned his head and watched as a couple of the teachers began spreading duct tape over the cracks in the doorway. His eyes flitted to the other side of the room, where they were placing plastic over the taped-up door.

Both exits blocked. Tim thought to himself. Being trapped inside made the tightness in his stomach swell. I guess that means Robin won't be going to help.

The principal finished speaking, offering words of comfort for the student body. Nothing of any interest to Tim. As the principal walked from the stage, Tim thought to himself I guess I'll just find a place to sit and wait it out.

He made his way over to long section of the wall where noone was standing near and moved to sit down on the floor when he noticed that Jen had followed. He paused for a second, and then finished sitting. He leaned his head back on the cold, brick wall. Jen was standing in front of him, her arms still crossed on her chest.

There was a moment of silence, with Tim looking up at Jen and her looking back, obviously waiting for something.

"Uh," Tim said, finally. "You wanna sit down?"

"Sure," she replied.

Tim watched as Jen sat down and placed her backpack under her bent knees, just as he had done. Her purple bookbag was brand new--the color still crisp, without a hint of dust, even on the bottom.

Tim's eyes found Jen's, though she was staring at the floor, and narrowed as he realized just how uncomfortable and alienated she must feel.

"It's not polite to stare," Jen said.

"Huh?" Tim said, realizing that, in his thoughts, he'd failed to realize that Jen was now looking directly into his face. He felt himself blush, and he turned to stare at his backpack, while he fiddled with the straps. "Sorry," he continued. "I was just wondering why you'd want to come sit with me."

He raised his head and nodded towards the populace of the school. "I'm not exactly Mr. Popular."

"Well, if you hadn't noticed," Jen replied. "I'm not exactly winning any contests myself."

"I don't know why," Tim said, grinning slightly at her sarcastic tone. "It seems to me like you could fit in if you tried a little bit."

"I guess I could," Jen said. "But I'm not planning on staying long." There was a moment of silence between the pair. Tim guessed that Jen didn't know what she was referring to, but he was fairly certain they both knew she wasn't being honest to him or herself. Jen broke the silence first. "The same could be said for you. So why don't you try to make some friends?"

Tim chuckled. "Touche."

He took a deep breath. He swallowed back a tear as the memories of the past few weeks rushed through his mind. He was caught off guard by the strength of the emotions. He'd assumed he was past the worst. Apparently not, he thought.

He started to speak, but had to clear his throat. "I just haven't been feeling very social." He stared harder at his backpack and then heard himself say, "I'm not exactly like everybody else."

If Tim was a more dramatic person, he would have slapped himself in the forehead or grabbed his mouth. Instead, he froze.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jen roll her eyes.

Her lack of compassion stung, but Tim felt a wave of relief wash over him. As long as she felt Tim was a regular teenager with regular issues, albeit familiar and cliched, he was happy. Bruce had always done his best to teach Tim teenage psychology. Self-doubt and feelings of loneliness, isolation, and the like were all extremely common. Tim knew this and had prepared himself, as Bruce had wanted. Still, being an orphan, a nerd, the new kid in town, OH and a superhero on the side, Tim thought, I don't know anybody who wouldn't feel a little--alone in a crowd.

There was silence between Jen and Tim once again. The weight of the embarrassment of his last comment forced Tim to break the ice. "So, why me?" he asked.

"What?" Jen said. "What do you mean?"

"If you're not staying long and not looking to make any friends, why do you want to sit over here with me? There's plenty of empty wall space."

Jen looked at Tim for a moment with a confused and then an angry expression. "Geez, you ARE a piece of work. If you wanna be alone so bad, you can kiss my..." Jen started to get up.

Tim grabbed her elbow and held her back. "No, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

Jen froze for a moment, and then lowered herself back onto the hard, wooden floor, pulling her arm free of Tim's grip as she did so.

"Because you seemed like you might have half a brain, unlike every other person I've run into in this school," Jen said finally. She shot Tim a mean glance. He noticed her clenched jaw muscles. "But maybe I was wrong."

It occurred to Tim that he might have been better off if he'd simply let her walk away. After all, what did it matter what she thought of him? Or anyone else at the school, for that matter?

But Tim knew himself better than that. Batman didn't care what people thought of his alter ego, and Tim wasn't Bruce.

"I'm sorry," Tim repeated. "Look, let's just start over." He held out his hand to offer a handshake. "I'm Tim. Tim Drake."

Tim could tell she thought the gesture was hokey. She gave him a slight shake. Her face twisted into confusion as she felt the callouses on his hand. Tim played it off with as charming a smile as he could muster. Swinging on a thin wire through the city wasn't easy on hands, no matter how thick the gloves one wears, and he certainly didn't want to try and explain that to his new friend. Jen smiled back and gave into the moment. "Jennifer... Jen," she said.

"So..." Jen said, looking down at the ground. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Tim turned his head slowly, trying to determine if she was serious or not. She turned her head, too, and looked deeply into Tim's eyes. Her fear and hope and everything else behind the question were all shimmering behind her pale eyes, and Tim found himself without words.

"Uh..." he stammered. That wasn't a question he was prepared for. Especially not at this moment, not today. Would he ever be again? Stephanie had meant everything to Tim. Did that happen twice?

Tim struggled for words, but nothing came. He wished for all the world that something would happen. Something would save him from this moment.

Suddenly, a popping sound echoed through the auditorium from the stage. Tim's head whirled at the sound. A form started to appear from a large cloud of smoke.

As he raised to his feet, Tim thought to himself that one of these days he would learn to be careful what he wished for.

With the sudden appearance of the cloud of smoke, the auditorium erupted into chaos.

Tim stood close to the wall, ignoring the carnage around him. Students crowded to the back of the room and rushed the doors, which were securely latched.

As the cloud began to dissipate, Tim squinted and stepped forward, intent on seeing who would appear. Jen grabbed his arm. "What do you think you're doing?" she yelled over the cacophony.

Then a blaring, ear-piercing sound erupted into the air. Tim grabbed his ears, and bent over in pain. There were shouts of pain, and then the room fell silent.

Tim raised his eyes to see a man standing in the center of the stage. He wore a cloak that covered his body made up of patches of every color imaginable. In his hand, he held what looked like a flute or some kind of musical instrument.

"There," the stranger said. "That's much better."

A flute? And a cloak of every color? Tim thought to himself.

"The Pied Piper..." he muttered under his breath, suddenly remembering the folk tale. But could that be right? he wondered. There were already a couple of guys who called themselves the Pied Piper. One of them had befriended Flash, and Tim couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard of the other one. Neither of those guys could teleport, though, and this guy didn't look anything like them.

Must be a new guy, Tim decided. Or I've read this all completely wrong.

"What fun, what fun!" the Piper exclaimed from onstage. He skipped towards the front of the stage. "Look at all of them!"

It was pretty apparent to Tim that the strange man was talking to himself. Tim went to move forward again, but Jen's hand was still gripped onto his arm with white-knuckled intensity.

"Jen, you have to let go, I have to..."

Tim looked back toward the stage. The Piper was moving his flute to his lips. "Oh no," Tim said. "Cover your ears!" he yelled as loud as he could. "Now! Everybody! Cover your ears!"

He dropped his bag, an idea springing into his mind. He shoved his earphones into his ears as hard as he could and flipped on his CD player. He pressed the play button and focused his attention on the stage. The Piper drew a breath. Tim held his hands to his ears, fearing the worst.