So, I was planning on making this a one-shot, but a bunch of people wanted me to keep going, so TADA! Chapter two. At this point, I've let the character's take over and what will happen, will happen.

Sorry it took so long to post this, but school is trying to steal my sanity.

Disclaimer: Not mine.


"Recognized: Batman, zero-two."

Wally and Connor looked up toward the zeta beam from their game of virtual air hockey, startled. Gloom descended on them the moment the Dark Knight stepped into the room. They were used to seeing him unhappy, but the scowl set on his face was enough to scare Winston Churchill away (and that's saying something, because that man could scowl).

The carrot top speedster swept over in a blur. "HeyBatmanIdidn'tknowyouwerebackdoyoune—"

The man swept past Wally and of the room like a bat out of hell.

Wally watched the doorway where Batman had just been, still stunned at the Flash-like speed in which the man had moved, before turning slowly to look at Connor. He could imagine they shared the came stunned, slightly-panicked look. "Should we go tell…?"

"Come on," Connor finished, bolting through the doorway. Wally quickly zoomed around him and raced toward the living room, where the remaining team members lounged.

"GuysBatman'shereandIthinkhe'slookingforRob—"

"Wally!" Kaldur cut him off. "You are going to have to slow down if you want us to understand you."

Wally took a deep breath, released it, then started again, exasperated. "Batman just got back and he looked as grumpy as Artemis did that time I put pink hair dye in her shampoo."

"That was you?" she screeched, standing so fast she knocked the armchair on its back. "Do you know how long it took me to get that all out? What were you doing in the girl's bathroom, you sick perverted—"

"Whoa! It was nothing like that!" he interrupted, hands up in surrender as she stormed up to him and grabbed his collar in her fists. "It was just an innocent prank, I swear!"

"You are so dead!"

"GUYS!" Connor's resounding shout shut them up and she grudgingly dropped him, watching as he sped away behind Kaldur. "I think we have bigger things to worry about."

"Where is Batman?" Kaldur asked.

Wally zipped over next to Connor. "He went toward the rooms."

M'gann gasped. "You don't think he's going to punish Robin, do you?"

"Probably," Artemis grumbled. "You heard the kid. He said the Bat would flip."

"Well yes," Kaldur began. "But perhaps we should not interfere."

"What!" the team shouted.

"We should think about this—"

"Dude, we said we would bail him if this happened," Wally snapped. Rarely did the young flash exhibit serious traits of any kind ("It's in my genetics!"), but at the moment, his best friend needed him and he'd be damned if he just stood back and watched (even if he was up against a seething Batman). "I'm a lot of things, but a traitor isn't one of them!"

"I didn't mean—"

"It wasn't his fault anyway," Connor continued over Kaldur. "We messed up. We should take the fall!"

"If you would just listen—"

Artemis crossed her arms, jaw set and eyes flaring. "Kaldur, we can't just not do anything. I know how it feels to be blamed for something you didn't do. It's not fun."

Kaldur sighed and massaged his forehead. "I understand what you are all saying, but interfering in a mentor-protégé matter before we are certain of what is being said will only make the situation worse," he said, grey eyes hard. "It would be as if Batman came to my mentor and tried to tell him how to do his job. If the trust between Batman and Robin is as strong as we have witnessed on the battle field, then there will be no need for us to intervene."

They were quiet for a moment, taking this in. Finally, M'gann asked from beside him," But…what if Batman does punish him?"

"Then we will be there to set it right," Kaldur answered firmly.

The team finally sighed, resigned, and returned to the living room. Connor threw himself onto a sofa and watched the television's white fuzz. M'gann seated herself beside him, while Kaldur took an arm chair; Artemis and Wally sat as far away from each other as they could whilst sitting on the same sofa. Static-filled silence permeated that air, but the team had neither the desire nor the courage to break it.


Bruce was the last person he wanted to see. Sure, he had been worried about the man, being off world and all, but he didn't think he had the courage to face the Batman after what happened on the last mission. No matter what the others said, he knew Bruce wouldn't be happy. It wasn't often that the infamous Boy Wonder was hurt as seriously as he had been. The only times he could remember being that bad off were his showdowns with the Joker (and that was saying a lot). Even if Batman did let him off the hook, he wasn't sure if he himself ever would. He prided himself in his perception, intelligence, and reflexes. How Young Justice had screwed up so bad, he would never know.

*flashback*

"Rob, hurry it up over there!"

"Almost done!"

KF didn't answer, but Robin hadn't expected him to. The underground strongroom was so consumed by chaos he was surprised he had even heard the speedster.

There were more goons than he had expected, which had kept the rest of the team occupied the entire twelve minutes and thirty two seconds they had been down there. Kaldur was off across the room, wielding his water swords like the trained warrior that he was, but with every man he took out, two took his place. Artemis perched herself atop a large metal storage container, using her height advantage to reign arrows down on the sea of enemies, but her quiver was quickly running out. Superboy wasn't even visible beneath the surge of gunmen trying to take him down. Kid Flash wove in and out of the many skirmishes, attacking and sabotaging where he could, but the room was quickly becoming overcrowded. Miss Marian hovered somewhere over him, having made the decision to use her telepathy in an effort to gain the upper hand.

For a bunch of average Joe gunnies, these guys were a pain in the ass.

As much as he wanted to aid them, Robin was occupied with the mainframe their targets had set up on the far wall of the strongroom. It hadn't looked all that complicated going in, but now that he was there trying to hack it, he realized just how advanced these guys really were. Not enough to need the League, of course, but enough to give the Boy Wonder a run for his money.

Therefore, he didn't see the threat until it was right up on him.

Being trained by the Batman, he generally felt things before he saw them. It was instinct and, without doubt, the only thing that saved his life. Robin felt the area shift, but too late. He had been so engrossed in the wires and machinery beneath the computer, trying to get the programming to work in his favor, he only had time to duck away when the man lunged at him. Pain exploded across his abdomen, nearly overwhelming him, as he fell back away from the leering man. It took him a moment longer than he would have liked to realize what had happened, but when he saw the bloody knife in the criminal's hand, he understood.

The man had stabbed him, right across the stomach. This knowledge hit him like frozen water, steeling away what little breath he had left. He had been stabbed, stabbed, of all things. As this realization came over him, he wondered where his team was. Things like this didn't normally happen while his back was turned to the battle because they always warned him through the telepathic link before he could be attacked. The fact that, even now, they hadn't said anything worried him. Were the okay? Had they been taken out, too? That thought made his heart sink to his feet. He needed to find them, needed them to be okay. This mission couldn't fail, not because of his idiocy.

Time picked up again and, through the haze of his consciousness, Robin saw the man making his way toward him once more. Pushing the agony away, Robin grabbed the edge of the computer consol and attempted to stand. Pain tore through him at the exertion and, unconsciously, he wrapped an arm around his inflamed torso. Warm blood soaked through his clothes at a steady flow, already coating his arm, and the sheer amount of it made him lightheaded. His legs and arms shook in their effort to support him and he knew that if he didn't do something quick, he wouldn't stay conscious long enough to finish the battle. Weakly, Robin fumbled with his utility belt until his fingers brushed across a batarang and he tossed it at the man now mere feet away from him. His hands were shaking, though, and his aim rough. The projectile missed and embedded in the wall somewhere in the distance.

This is it, he thought as his body slumped against the consol, refusing to fight anymore. I'm going to die here. In a weapons raid. I am so not feeling the aster. He closed his eyes, blood still pouring from the wound, and waited for the last blow.

"Robin!" someone screamed, sharp and terrified. The voice sounded distant, as if buried in a ton of sand, but he would recognize it anywhere. M'gann. Almost immediately, his mind was bombarded with voices, alarmed and panicked and desperate to be heard. So much spirit and emotion flooded his soul at the same time, he was afraid he would lose himself to it.

The man with the knife stopped suddenly, a confused look on his face, before some unseen force hoisted him into the air. He cried out in surprise and fear, limbs flailing helplessly. A fast-moving figure pounded up behind him and, in a leap of great feat, slammed into him from behind. Superboy. With a fist cocked back, he pulled the man out of the air with force enough to crush an ocean liner. Robin's fading mind noted the look of pure rage on Connor's face, though couldn't quite figure out why it would be there. The two landed with a loud crack on the cement and Robin studied his attacker's face, bloody and wide-eyed and pinched in pain. One man, not even super. Dick was far more human than he would like to be; his weaknesses were more numerous than those of his teammates. His team…

Robin couldn't remember collapsing, but he must have, because the next thing he knew, he was staring up into Wally's wide, worried green eyes. "Rob? You with me buddy?" he asked, voice wavering in panic.

Robin blinked, struggling to keep his eyes open. The strongroom was silent now, save the sounds of nervous pacing and gasping breaths. Oh. His gasps. Now he remembered. He was bleeding. He was dying.

The next thing he registered was a sharp, incessant pain in his abdomen. He reached down to feel for it, make it stop, make it stop…

Someone pulled his hands away and held them firmly. He looked up wearily to see Artemis kneeling over him, her face more panicked and anxious than he had ever seen it. "They're trying to stop the bleeding, Robin. Don't touch it," she said softly, endearingly. Those words most defiantly did not go with Artemis' personality. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would have laughed. As it was, he was doing well just to breathe.

The pain was unbearable now. It rippled through his body in throbbing waves, burning and aching and screaming as if he were dying. He was dying. He wanted to die. "Is anything helping, M'gann?" he heard someone ask off toward the side. Superboy. He was pacing anxiously behind her.

"All I can do is try to keep the bleeding down," she answered, sounding close to tears. "Until the Bioship gets here, there's nothing…I can't believe I didn't see him in time."

"We need to stay focused," Robin heard Kaldur say from beside the computer mainframe. "If we do not, it will mean his life."

"And what are you doing?" Connor snapped, taking out his worry the only way he could.

"I am finishing the mission."

"WHAT? Robin's dying and that's all you can think about!"

"I, too, am afraid for him, but I will not let his sacrifice go in vain. This mission must be finished."

"Superboy, come on man, not now," Wally said, more subdued than Robin remembered his friend ever sounding.

Agony coursed through him again and he gasped, moaning in furious pain. Hands were on his face suddenly, stroking, comforting. "Easy, kid. Just hang in there." Artemis was still there and, peering through the encroaching darkness, he could see Wally right beside her, a hand on her shoulder.

The blood loss was too much to focus through, now. He could feel himself slipping, his team's voices muddled and far away. He felt them there beside him, though, even in the darkness. They were a constant beacon, always at his side. Of this, he was certain.

*end flashback*

He would never be able to explain any of that to Bruce, though. The Batman was a loner; he didn't understand teamwork, and this would only make it worse. If Bruce pulled him off the team, Young Justice would fall apart. He wasn't being arrogant, just realistic. He made the team function, even if Kaldur was the leader. Kaldur had even told him this, months ago.

His door open unceremoniously and a dark figure stalked in before shutting it behind him. The Batman stood still in the shadows of his doorway, narrow eyes studying him carefully. Dick watched him from his place on the bed, too weary and ashamed to do much of anything else. "Hi, Bruce," he said in a voice softer than he would have liked.

The man strode forward and towered over Dick for a long moment, that unnerving gaze still on him, before sitting beside him on the bed. "You lied to me."

Dick looked away, his face flushing in shame.

"Why?" his surrogate father asked, voice rough but unreadable.

He sighed, yielding. "I just…didn't want to worry you. You were off-planet and I was afraid that if you got distracted something would go wrong. I'm sorry," he finished in a whisper.

Bruce was quiet for another moment and his unwavering gaze was unbearable. Dick fingered the hem of his shirt nervously, waiting for the lecture, the yelling, the punishment. He wanted it. He needed to know what he had done wrong, why the mission had failed. It was his fault. His.

Instead, Bruce removed his black cowl, leaned down, and wrapped Dick in a hug. For several moments, Dick was too stunned to even move. The last time he could remember Bruce hugging him, he was eight and had just lost his parents. Now that he was older, there was just never any physical affection shown. They knew they cared for each other, so it didn't need to be outwardly displayed. But here was the Batman, bane of Gothom's criminal underworld, holding him in a warm embrace like he would never see him again.

Dick found himself melting into it after a while, though. While foreign, the affection was wanted and he leaned into the man, dropping the blank mask he had been wearing and letting all of the pain and weariness and grief overflow. It took him a while to realize he was crying. In front of anyone else, he would have been horrified, but this was Bruce: his mentor, his savior, his father. He let the dark, familiar man comfort him as he cried like he hadn't in years.

No words were said, but none needed to be. The Batman and his protégé worked best in the silence. Finally, when he had no more tears to give, he pulled away and leaned against the wall. The strain had caused his wound to throb again; he would need more painkillers soon. "Dick."

He looked to find Bruce watching him. Those eyes were dark and steady, but warm with love and concern. His expression was soft in a manner that no one else on the League would understand (except maybe Clark, but Bruce never let the 'Boy Scout' see). "Bruce I…I'm sorry."

"It's okay. While I don't like it, I understand why you made that decision. Just don't withhold information like that from me again."

He nodded, but still wasn't satisfied. Bruce wasn't getting it. "I'm sorry," he whispered, even softer than before.

Bruce gave him a bewildered look. "I already said it's fine."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Not that. I'm sorry that the mission failed. It was my fault…" Suddenly, he found the vault opening up and everything that had been on his mind for days and days on end started spilling out almost unconsciously. "I should have seen the guy but I didn't. I was so distracted by the mainframe I left my guard down and then he got me before I could move. I was slow and stupid and unprepared so the mission failed and my teammates almost died and it's all my fault. I'm so sorry, Bruce. Please don't pull me off the team. I can do better next time…"

Dick looked up, startled, when Bruce grabbed his shoulders gently and turned him towards the man. "Richard, listen to me," he began softly. Understanding swirled in his dark eyes, the same understanding he had seen when the man first came for him in the juvenile home years ago. "You did nothing wrong. You were doing your part of the mission, and that was all anyone could ask of you. I understand what it's like to feel as if it's your failure. But it's not. They should have been watching your back and they weren't. It's just one of those things. I'm just glad you're…safe."

Dick knew what he had been about to say. Alive. He was lucky to be. The idea of leaving Bruce alone in Wayne Manor after so many years of being together was terrifying. Bemused, Dick looked up at him. "You mean…you're not mad at me?"

A smile tugged at Bruce's lips. "No."

"And…" He swallowed, almost afraid to hope that it was true. "And you're not gonna pull me off the team?"

"Not if you don't want to be pulled."

A real, genuine smile lit up Dick's face for the first time in almost two weeks. Relieved, he leaned back against the wall again, suddenly aware of just how tired he was. Minutes of comfortable silence passed between them, the two just happy that they're only family was still alive. Finally, Bruce shifted and stood. "You should rest. I will leave you here, so you don't have to move." He helped Dick relax, then turned to leave the room.

"Hey Bruce?" Dick called just as the man was replacing his cowl.

Bruce turned back to him.

"Thanks."

Smiling (unnoticeable to anyone that wasn't Clark, Dick, or Alfred), the Batman pulled the cowl over his face, replaced his scowl and shut the door behind him, leaving the dorm in tranquil darkness.

Now to deal with the team.


I know some people thought it was weird that Robin thought Bruce would be mad at him. The fact is that Robin thought he would be, but he really wasn't. Batman is a little OOC, but Bruce isn't, if you think about it. If you found out that you're adopted son had almost died while you were off-planet, you might be a little OOC, too. But besides that, I'm kind of happy how this turned out.

Fear not. There will be more Team Friendship in the next chapter. It will pickup pace very soon.

Please Review. It makes me happy and I put more effort in my writing.