A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you guys rock! :)

oOo

If Batman kills you, it'll kill him!

The thought rang through Robin's head clear as a bell, shattering his burgeoning panic. To kill anyone would damage Batman's psyche, but to kill his own partner…

It would destroy him.

Robin couldn't let that happen. Gotham needed Batman.

He let go of Batman's hand, allowing the man's fist to once more slam into his face. Fighting to remain conscious, Robin scrabbled at his utility belt, pulling out a batarang and driving it into the hand wrapped around his throat. With an angry hiss, Batman yanked his hand back.

Able to breathe again, Robin's vision tunnelled back to him and he jerked his head sideways to avoid the fist coming at him. It smashed into the table beside his ear. Before Batman had a chance to hit him again, he jerked his knee hard into Batman's groin.

A strangled gurgle rolled out from the big man's throat and he dropped to the floor, hunching over on his knees.

Robin didn't stop to smirk at how such a crude move could be so effective. Ignoring the fact that his body ached, he jumped away from Batman and ran for the door. Dashing down the dark hallway, he wrapped an arm across his throbbing ribs.

The cool night air snapped across his face as he exited the slaughterhouse, making it sting, but Robin didn't stop to evaluate his injuries or his surroundings. Instead he fired his grapple gun and took off into the night. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest and he didn't dare look behind him to see if Batman was following.

The thought of a murderous Batman hot on his heels terrified him.

Robin was more than a mile away from the slaughterhouse before he swept onto a roof and stopped to take a breath. He leaned against the parapet, panting heavily, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs, while he considered his options. He had a rogue Batman on his hands, what the hell was he going to do?!

Forcing himself to calm down and think rationally, Robin's first thought was to warn Commissioner Gordon. The last thing he wanted was the Gotham PD trying to bring Batman in, but the cops needed to be warned not to approach him. Robin might be the primary target of Batman's rage, but he had a feeling that it wasn't just limited to him. Anyone who crossed Batman's path could be in danger tonight! Plus, it had taken eight officers to bring Mark Saunders in, and he was just a teenager with no combat training – who knew what an infected Batman was capable of?

Robin swallowed. He didn't want to think about that.

Swinging off the roof and heading for Gotham Police Department, Robin began to piece together a plan of action. After talking to Gordon, he needed to contact the Justice League. They were the only ones who had any chance of apprehending Batman. Robin was two blocks away from Police Headquarters when a heart-stopping thought struck him.

Alfred!

What if Batman returned to the cave? Formidable as he was in their everyday life, Alfred would be helpless against Batman in his current state. Robin had to warn him!

Landing on the nearest fire escape, Robin activated the holographic computer in his glove – he had lost his communicator during the fight with Batman – and called home. It seemed like an age before Alfred's face finally appeared on the screen.

"Sir, is every– my word! Master Dick! What happened?!"

The butler's eyes were wide in alarm and Robin could only surmise that he didn't look so hot. But that would have to wait. He needed to get Alfred out of there.

"Alfred, no time to explain! Defcon three, code red, broken wing! Can you meet me at our prearranged location?"

The butler blinked. "Of course, Sir. Necessities?"

Robin had never been more grateful for Batman and his extreme paranoia. His insistence upon a contingency plan for every possible scenario – including an out-of-control Batman – meant Alfred wouldn't waste time with questions he knew he'd get the answers to later. "Nothing. Just get out of there, Alfred, I'll see you soon."

"Very good, Sir."

The butler signed off and Robin heaved a sigh of relief. Now to warn Commissioner Gordon.

As he swung off the fire escape, it occurred to him that he should have asked Alfred to bring a spare grapple gun; he wasn't sure how much rope he had left in this one.

Arriving at Police Headquarters, Robin was relieved to see that the light was on in the Commissioner's office. Good. That meant he was there and Robin wouldn't have to waste time tracking him down. Ribs aching, he dropped onto the windowsill and climbed into the office without his usual grace. Gordon glanced up from his desk and his eyes widened. In an instant, he was on his feet and moving towards him.

"Robin! Good Lord, Son! Are you alright?!"

"I'm fine," said Robin, waving away his concerns. "Commissioner–"

"We need to get you to a doctor," Gordon fretted, reaching him and tilting back his head to examine his face.

"No. That's not–"

"Do you feel sick? Dizzy?" the officer demanded anxiously. "Christ, look at your arms! Robin, what happened?! Where's Batman?"

A little taken aback by the officer's vehement reaction, Robin glanced down. He hadn't really paused to take stock of his injuries other than to acknowledge that his ribs hurt, but looking at his arms now, he could see massive finger-shaped bruises blossoming at the elbows and spreading across his arms. The adrenaline wearing off, he could also feel something trickling down his left cheekbone and raised a gloved finger to swipe at it.

It came away red.

Robin was surprised; he hadn't realized he was bleeding. Then he shook himself. Forget that! We have bigger problems.

"Commissioner, we have a serious problem; Batman's been infected with rage!" Robin couldn't believe he'd just said that aloud. It sounded like the premise from a bad zombie movie.

The officer started. "Batman's been…what?"

Quickly, Robin explained about the men at the slaughterhouse and what had happened to Batman.

"Batman did this to you?!" exclaimed Gordon, a horrified expression on his face.

"He couldn't help it!" Robin defended his mentor at once. "It was whatever that English guy shot him up with. Commissioner, you need to get the word out to every officer on the street tonight that they're not to engage with Batman – he's dangerous!"

"Robin–"

"Commissioner, please!"

"Fine. Don't move."

"But I have to–"

"You don't have to do anything except wait right here," the Commissioner interjected firmly. "Robin, that's an order. I'm only going to be a few minutes and I expect you to be here when I get back."

Robin sighed. "Yes, Sir."

The officer disappeared through the door into the outer offices and Robin briefly debated leaving while he was gone, before deciding against it. Gordon would be less than pleased and Batman had always drummed it into him how important it was to keep Gordon on their side.

Reluctantly, Robin moved to sit down but caught sight of his face in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall – Gordon used it to make sure he didn't look too unkempt whenever he had to face the press – and froze. No wonder the Commissioner had reacted so badly; his face looked like hamburger meat! His left cheekbone and eye were swollen and turning an impressive array of black and purple, while a large welt had opened up across his left cheekbone, blood dribbling from it. Dried blood had crusted beneath his nose, and a slow dribble of crimson weaved its way from an unseen wound beneath his hair, trickling down the side of his face. Peeking beneath the collar of his cape, Robin could just make out the blackened bruises where Batman had tried to strangle him.

He swallowed and looked away from his reflection, disturbed that Batman was the one who had done this to him.

The door behind him closed with a snap and Robin whirled to find that Commissioner Gordon had returned. "Detective Bullock is getting the word out to every beat cop and patrol car in the city," he told Robin. "No one is to approach Batman tonight."

Robin relaxed slightly. "Good."

"Robin, are you certain that Batman was infected with this…rage virus?"

Robin gave Gordon an are-you-kidding-me look.

The officer sighed. "Then we have a problem. This situation might be worse than we thought."

"What do you mean?" asked Robin. How could this get any worse?

"Mark Saunders died an hour ago," Gordon replied, a serious expression on his face. "We won't know anything until we get the results of the autopsy, but one of the doctors made a connection to two recent patients who died of similar symptoms."

Dread pooled in Robin's stomach. "Symptoms?"

"Temperature, unconsciousness, increased heart rate. But the most telling connection is that both men were arrested for extremely violent behaviour and collapsed in their cells before being moved to Gotham General." Gordon's expression was grim. "When they were arrested, both of them were covered in the blood of men who'd recently been beaten to death."

"How recent?" demanded Robin, his brain working feverishly as he pieced it all together.

"Each beating had taken place somewhere between twenty-four and thirty-six hours before the men collapsed."

Robin's heart stopped. This virus kills people! "I need to get in contact with the League right now!" he cried, moving towards the window.

"I don't think so!" snapped Gordon, grabbing Robin's shoulder. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you out there in that condition! You need the hospital, Robin."

"Commissioner, I have to contact the Justice League. They're the only ones who can bring Batman in safely!"

The Commissioner crossed his arms. "Feel free to use my phone before we leave."

"The Justice League aren't contactable by phone," said Robin in exasperation.

"Robin, you need medical attention–"

"And I'll get it! But, Commissioner, this is more important. Batman's life is at stake here! Besides, until the League can bring him in, he's a threat to every person that he meets."

Gordon looked deeply unhappy. "Fine. But, Robin, the second you've contacted the League, you get help."

"I will," Robin promised, moving to the window. "Oh, and, Commissioner? It might be a good idea not to send any officers to the slaughterhouse until the League have checked if Batman is still there."

"I won't. Keep me updated, Robin, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, climbing out through the window and firing his grapple gun. His ribs twanged painfully as he swung away from the Commissioner's office. He would have to get them looked at when he reached Mount Justice.

Since he'd lost his communicator during the fight with Batman, Robin figured his best move was to head for Mount Justice. He could contact the League and get his injuries taken care of; two birds, one stone.

He was heading for the nearest zeta-tube but had only gone a couple of blocks when something slammed into him and sent him crashing down onto the nearest rooftop. Smashing into the concrete, Robin felt his grapple gun slip from his fingers and skitter across the roof before dropping off the edge to the street below. Dazed, he scrambled to his feet and flipped to avoid the large black shadow that landed beside him and swung at him.

Batman! How did he find me?!

Robin produced his escrima sticks and twisted to avoid Batman as he charged at him, bringing one of the sticks down on Batman's head in a crashing blow. The man stumbled, and Robin used the opportunity to run to the edge of the roof and launch himself onto the next building. He ignored the cry of protest from his injured ribs as he landed, darting quickly across the roof and leaping onto the next one.

The thump of someone landing immediately after him followed. Robin whirled and flung two exploding batarangs at his mentor. The man ducked the first but the second one landed in front of him where it went off, propelling him back several feet and once more putting distance between him and Robin. The boy turned and ran, jumping onto yet another building where he released several smoke bombs in an effort to camouflage his trail.

It didn't work. He had no sooner vaulted onto the next roof when he heard Batman coming after him. With a groan of desperation, Robin kept running. His heart was in his mouth as he continued to leap across rooftops. He could hear the grunts Batman was making as he pursued him. He needed to get out of Batman's line of sight, but how?

The answer came in the form of a large building under construction up ahead. Brickwork had begun on the bottom half, but the top half of the building was still little more than a steel structure with exposed beams and tarps. There were more than enough hiding places amongst all that construction that Robin could use to drop out of sight and escape to the street below. He knew he had to get off the rooftops; he was way too exposed up here.

By now, his ribs were screaming at him and he wished he hadn't dropped his grapple gun because this was so much harder without it. Reaching the edge of the final building before the one under construction, Robin took a flying leap…

…and felt someone slam into him from behind. As they sailed through the air, Batman made a snarling nose and gripped him tightly. Robin thought he just might stop breathing from fear.

They crashed into the steel beams of the half-finished structure, and Robin's reflexes had him instinctively grabbing for the beams. His whole body snapped painfully as their fall was halted. Unfortunately, the weight of Batman still clinging to his waist was too much and Robin felt his grip immediately start to weaken.

It seemed futile to try and reason with his mentor, but Robin knew he wouldn't be able to hold them up. Batman had obviously tracked him from the slaughterhouse so there had to be some semblance of intelligence left that he could try to reason with. "B-Batman," he managed to gasp out. "Let. Go!"

In response, Batman drove a fist into his lower back before grabbing onto Robin's shoulder where he proceeded to pull himself up. Robin screamed through gritted teeth; the stretching sensation on his battered ribs caused by Batman's weight made him feel like he was being ripped in two.

Blood pounding in his head and pain roaring through him, the tenuous grip Robin had on the metal beam weakened and he let go.

They both dropped into an immediate freefall, Batman releasing Robin as they fell. Once more, Robin's quick reflexes kicked in and he grabbed at the next set of support beams. Latching on tightly, and without Batman's weight pulling him down, he was able to climb up onto the half-finished floor.

Glancing down to check if Batman was okay, he spotted the man hanging from a metal beam on the level below. He was grunting as he scrabbled to pull himself up. Robin instinctively moved to help until the man looked up and bared his teeth in a snarl, causing Robin to take a step back. Batman's features hadn't been altered in the physical sense, but there was still something inhuman about them that frightened him.

Miserably, Robin turned his back on his mentor and headed into the centre of the building. He was breathing heavily from a combination of exertion and injury, and tried to quiet the sound. He would need to be completely silent if he hoped to hide from Batman.

He passed several flapping tarps before discovering a ladder leading down to the floor below. With a sigh of resignation, Robin began to descend; without his grapple gun and with pain lighting up his ribs, it was his best way down.

He reached the bottom and found another ladder two feet away extending to the next level again. Hurriedly, Robin moved for that ladder and continued his descent. He was just heading for the third ladder when Batman landed on him from above, knocking him face first into the ground.

Fists cracked into his back, making his injured ribs pound sickeningly. Flat on his stomach and with Batman straddling him, he had no way to defend himself against the barrage of fists hammering into him. Trained to near instinct, Robin reached for his utility belt instead…until a massive hand grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind him, almost dislocating his shoulder. He yelled in pain as another hit cracked into his shoulder blade. Robin thought he might throw up from the pain that shivered through him – made all the worse by the fact that the person inflicting this on him was the person he trusted most in the world.

Don't be such a baby, Grayson! Suck it up!

Robin didn't have time for self-pity. Right now, he had to get out of this.

Rolling into a slight sideways crouch to alleviate the pressure on his shoulder and hide his free hand from view, Robin reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small taser, which he immediately pressed against Batman's leg. The man jerked backwards and released Robin's arm, allowing him to twist sideways and jab the taser into the centre of Batman's chest. The Dark Knight spasmed, before making a strange, choking noise and flopping sideways, while Robin used the opportunity to roll onto his back and scoot out from under him.

Realizing his prey was escaping, Batman lurched forward, but Robin once more drove the taser into his chest while he continued to backpedal, eventually putting enough distance between them to enable him to get back on his feet.

The Dark Knight was panting as he lumbered to a standing position and Robin backed away, hand shaking as he held the taser out in front of him.

Batman's eyes narrowed and he stalked after him slowly, eyes on Robin and the taser. Robin continued to back away with no clue what to do next, until he caught sight of a flash of yellow extending out and down from the open exterior of the building.

Hope flooded him. It was one of those rubber tubes for the removal of debris from the upper floors of buildings under construction; a time saving edifice that allowed builders to drop rubbish into a skip on the ground. Instead of dropping straight down, the tubes sloped for the purpose of gravity; it was safer for the freefall of unwanted to debris to slow before hitting the skip.

And Robin was the perfect size to slide down one of those tubes.

Throwing another smoke bomb at Batman, Robin raced for the rubber tube. His heart was pounding from fear and he could hear his mentor thundering after him. Reaching the tube, Robin dived into it and was nearly strangled as Batman seized his cape before he could drop. He twisted to hit Batman with the taser again, but the man grabbed his wrist before it connected. Releasing Robin's cape, Batman grasped his utility belt and started to pull the boy up out of the tube.

Robin quickly switched the taser into his free hand and drove it into Batman's neck. The man jerked and gurgled before dropping Robin's wrist, but maintained a death grip on his utility belt. Legs dangling in the tube, Robin had a split-second to decide what to do…

He opened the catch on his belt.

The drop was quicker than he'd expected, and Robin had no time to ready himself before he whooshed down the tube, Batman's angry roar echoing after him. It was an uncomfortable slide down; debris dust caught in his eyes and throat, making him gasp, while the smaller bits of rubble that had gotten caught in the crevices bit and tore at him. Several seconds later, Robin was flung out into the skip where he landed hard against a mass of concrete detritus, the taser in his hand smashing on impact.

"Ow," he managed, winded.

Not giving himself the chance to recover or catch his breath, Robin pulled himself to his feet and launched himself out of the skip, before limping away quickly. He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but he needed to get out of the open before he evaluated his surroundings.

Turning into the first dark alley that he came across, Robin hurried down it and then crisscrossed through two more. He came out on a dark, dingy little street with an abandoned lot just across from him. There was another, smaller alley directly behind that and Robin made for it, determined to get lost.

"Well, well," jeered a voice to his left as he entered the alley. "What do we have here?"

Robin silently raged at the universe; it seemed luck was most definitely not on his side tonight. He watched as three shapes unraveled themselves from the shadows and three men emerged. One was short and fat, with his ratty hair tied in a long ponytail. The second was tall and muscular with a shaved head, bare arms and several tattoos, while the third was of average height with a stocky build and cold eyes that were glued to Robin with an intensity the boy couldn't identify.

"Ain't it past your bedtime, Kid?" asked the short one, revealing a mouth of rotted teeth.

Robin didn't respond.

"Awww, not gonna answer me?"

"Maybe he's shy?" suggested the tall one, stepping towards Robin.

"Or maybe he's working?" countered the third, circling the boy with a horrible smirk that Robin couldn't quite fathom. He'd never seen a grin like that before.

"Is that it, Kid? You working?" demanded the fat one, shuffling to the left. "'Cause if you're working, you gotta pay a toll."

They were surrounding him, Robin realized, trying to block his escape out of the alley.

"Hey, Kid, you dumb or what?" demanded the tall one. "We're talking to you!"

"Maybe he can't talk," sniggered the fat guy, drawing closer. "Might be a good thing, means no one can hear him scream!"

"I bet I could make him scream," leered the third guy, leaning in close. "Bet he screams real pretty."

Robin scowled. Were they freaking kidding him with this?! Wally and Roy never had to take this type of trash talk! And anyone stupid enough to try it on Superboy was likely to find themselves up close and personal with the nearest wall.

The three men continued to circle him, whooping with laughter and catcalling things that made his blood run cold. Despite the fact that he was running on fumes, Robin debated the merits of attacking them first; he needed to end this before all their whooping and hollering brought Batman down here.

But then the man with the cold eyes made his move. He grabbed at Robin and the boy twisted sharply, drawing a vehement protest from his ribs. He smashed his fist into the man's jaw and leveraged a sweeping kick to the lower leg that dropped the man like a stone.

"What the–?" cried the fat guy, while the tall one ran at Robin with his fist outstretched.

Robin swiftly sidestepped and grabbed the fist, using the man's forward momentum to chuck him face first into the alley wall.

"Walk away and I won't hurt you," Robin told them, fists up as he shifted into a defensive posture. His heart was racing as he tried to keep from breathing too deeply and giving away the state of his injuries. He wasn't going to be able to keep this up for long and hoped they wouldn't call his bluff.

The fat guy backed away with wide eyes, while the stocky one clutched his jaw as he clambered to his feet. The big man was groaning, pulling himself upright with the aid of the wall, one hand to his head. All three of them eyed him warily.

"Hey!" the big one cried suddenly. "Ain't he the Bat's brat?"

"The Bat!" The fat guy looked around in such panic that Robin almost laughed. "We gotta get outta here!"

They made as though to run until the third man yelled out, "STOP!"

The big guy looked at him incredulously. "Ed, are you crazy? If the Bat–"

"The Bat's not here," he replied, cold eyes calculating as they studied Robin. "And I don't think he's anywhere nearby. Haven't you noticed? The kid's not looking so hot."

They stopped moving away and Robin's heart sank. They were calling his bluff.

The one with the cold eyes smiled gleefully. "What's the matter, little Birdie? Lose Daddybats?"

The three men closed in again and Robin tensed, keeping his defenses up. He was exhausted and injured with no weapons to fight back. How the heck was he going to get out of this?!

But then there was a familiar swish and it felt like the temperature in the alley dropped by several degrees. A dark shape loomed out of the shadows and Robin felt his breath catch in his throat.

Batman.

The fat man saw him first and gave a little high-pitched scream of terror that made the other two turn. Seeing the dark shape closing in on them, they made angry noises and the large one pulled out a chain from his pocket and wrapped it around his fist. The other produced a switchblade. Together they rushed at Batman.

Swiftly, the Dark Knight sidestepped the switchblade and threw a savage punch into the biggest one's face before whirling on the man with the knife. Within seconds, all three were locked in a deadly confrontation.

Robin didn't wait to see who would be the victor. Against every instinct he possessed, he turned and fled down the alley. His mentor would be fine. He was Batman, he could take guys like these with one hand tied behind his back! Batman would be fine.

But Robin wouldn't be. He knew without any doubt that a third encounter with Batman would kill him.