Robin was feeling rather good about himself. The plan to investigate Cadmus had originally been his idea, so he felt it was rather serendipitous that it all ended on a relatively high note for all of them (one temperamental Superboy aside). Granted, he'd gotten himself and his new crew in waaaaaaaaaaay deeper than he'd originally intended; but they'd gotten out, right? ...Right?

"Robin."

Ah, crap.

Instinctively, he cringed. KF took one look at the shadow lurking behind his fellow sidekick and made to carefully retreat, his catch-you-later marked with an apologetic raise of his eyebrows, Wally-speak for oooooh you're in for it now, Robs. Pfeh, as if he'd get past the Flash on his end of the 'consequences'.

Left alone, Robin turned reluctantly to attention - or tried to, anyway. His abs automatically seized at being twisted in any direction other than.. uh, no direction at all. Ooh, and the nausea was really unhelpful. Forgetting that ow, his ribs were totally bruised beyond belief and this was definitely going to hurt like crazy in the morning because he could tell by the way it throbbed, it didn't seem all that bad -

The Bat's brow looked even more severe than usual. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Robin managed, rubbing his exposed shoulder. (Alfred would surely have a fit at the state of his suit.) Under his mentor's narrowed gaze he quickly amended the statement. "Mostly bruises, blunt impact. A lot of it was just the building coming down at the end. Nothing broken..." He grimaced; the pain lancing through his ribcage made any self-assessment of the damage there dubious at best. "...I think."

"You think." Like always, Batman's expression was unreadable, but Robin smiled weakly, hopefully. That was sarcasm, right? "There will be consequences for what you did today."

Oh well. Too early to hope, he supposed.

"I know," said Robin, slightly petulant. As if he hadn't already learned his lesson by getting the snot beat out of him. They'd brought the roof down, for crying out loud! "I know. I'm sorry. But I don't regret it," he added, looking cross and defiant for all the thirteen years he was worth.

"Hm."

There was the sudden weight of a hand on his shoulder. Robin looked up, surprised, catching the telltale quirk of a smile from under his guardian's mask before the man moved away in a sweep of his midnight mantle. Robin blinked; too exhausted to inhibit his relief from spreading over his face, he had to duck down in order to hide his smile. He fell into step easily behind the billowing bat cloak, feeling absurdly content to face whatever 'consequences' would come his way. He knew, somehow, that it'd be worth it.

It wasn't long before he was being whelmed by his own yawns, and by the time they reached the roof-perched Batwing it was clear he was on the losing end of the battle. Upon arrival at the Batcave Gotham's Boy Wonder was sound asleep; Batman, realizing his young ward wasn't going to see himself to bed, paused just long enough at to earn a sidelong eyebrow raise from Alfred.

Morning would find Richard Grayson tucked comfortably into his sheets, a note detailing 'consequences' stickied to his bedside drawer.

I don't own Young Justice.
Written February 5, 2011