AN: Another update~ Huzzah *~*~*\(o_o)\

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Chapter 6: Kick a Man While He's Down.

"What are you going to do?"

Dick felt numb all over. He couldn't see, couldn't hear anything around him, save for the rapid beating of his heart. He knew that he was panicking–he'd felt it before–but he couldn't snap out of it.

He just wanted it all to stop.

"I didn't do anything." He whispered, barely finding his voice. "I haven't broken any of their rules. They shouldn't be here."

"Well, they are." Connor snapped. "And now, M'gann's in danger."

"Dick's in danger too!" Wally cried. "They're gonna take him away. What if he doesn't come back out?"

"Dick's human. He'll be fine."

"We can get out the window." M'gann said, reaching forward to take his arm. "If I fly really fast–"

Dick gently pushed her away, getting to his feet, turning his eyes to the door.

"No. No." He said shaking his head as his stomach rolled. "I have to go with them. If I don't..."

Something might happen to Bruce.

Bruce had worked so hard for this night. It had been a big step for him, a step towards re-assimilating himself into society, a step closer to being the man he used to be. Why did this have to happen now? Whatever he'd done, why did it have to catch up to him tonight?

Fate had been more than cruel to them lately.

"Dick–"

"M'gann, you should get out of here. There's no reason for you to get taken in too."

"So, I'm just supposed to go?" The Martian demanded. "Leave all of you guys to deal with these creeps yourselves? We're a team."

"We were a team." Dick corrected. "You need to get back to Mars with your uncle. You need to get home."

He hated the disappointed look on her face, hated the anger he saw simmering just beneath the surface, but he couldn't let her get taken just because of him.

Teammates didn't let other teammates get hurt.

"They're coming, M'gann." He hissed. "Please. Go."

She couldn't be here when the soldiers arrived. She couldn't go to the compound. She'd never survive without her powers. She'd revert back to her normal form, and they'd never let go. They'd hold onto her like all the other aliens, like all the meta-humans who looked a little different, who didn't fit into their perfect image of society.

The thought made his blood boil.

"Bye, Connor, M'gann...Wally." He said, one hand on the door, trying to ignore the devastated look on his best friend's face. Wally was going to fall apart without him. He knew it. The kid was barely put together as it was.

"Take care of Bruce and Alfred for me, okay Wally?"

The former speedster nodded, but he was shaking.

He was going to fall apart.

Dick wanted to fall apart too.

He left his friends without another word, stepping into the hallway, eyes roving over the familiar paintings and antiques lining its walls. He walked silently down the carpeted walk, dread weighing heavily in his gut, feeling confused, and scared, but still frighteningly numb. He hadn't done anything. He'd put his vigilante days behind him the moment he was released, locking his costume away in the batcave with the rest of Bruce's relics, moving on to take his place as the man's son and part-time caretaker. He'd kept his head down, stayed off the streets. He'd been good.

He'd been lucky.

When he came to his bedroom, Dick paused, staring deeply into the inky back. He found his own face staring back at him from the printed surface of a "Flying Grayson's" poster; younger, smiling, standing beside his parents and his family on the trapeze. He wished that he was with them now, far away from Gotham and Eclipse, and this fear. Once, he had believed that he'd been spared to avenge them, to take down the criminals and the thugs who would destroy innocents to get what they wanted...

But, he'd been wrong.

His bedroom was the first place they looked; the Eclipse soldiers. They didn't mince words, didn't monologue like any normal villain would. They grabbed his arms, holding him still–not like he was really putting up a fight anyway–while one pressed a square piece of metal to his neck, a computer chip, it looked like, running with complex circuitry and several red wires. Dick yelped as a sharp pain bit into the sensitive flesh of his neck.

It felt like teeth, like the thing was latching onto his skin, like it had a mind of its own.

And then his body was dead weight, falling into the arms of his captors, head lolling as as he tried to regain control. This wasn't right. What was wrong with him? What had they done?

He blinked his eyes–at least he still had control over that–and stared up at the soldier's visored face, pleading silently. What was going on? He would have gone willingly. What was this thing?

There were no answers. He was slung over the man's shoulder in a fireman's carry, hanging limp and helpless as they took him away. Trapped inside his body, the panic began to rise, and Dick found himself silently screaming, but no one could hear him...

No one would care.

He knew that Robin had to go...he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop the soldiers from taking away his best friend. But, as he watched the boy walk further and further down the hallway, straight into the arms of the enemy, Wally wished he could. He wished he was still a speedster. Still meta-human.

He wished he wasn't so helpless.

Behind him, M'gann and Connor said their goodbyes, the martian slipping out the window, flying away, invisible to the people below, filing out of the mansion. When she was gone, Connor continued to stare at the sky, leaving Wally alone, allowing him to contemplate things he shouldn't.

The former speedster took a deep breath, trying to ignore how his heart pumped in his chest; a fast, panicked rhythm.

And then the soldiers arrived.

He knew that he should just let it happen. Nothing good would come of fighting back. Didn't he know better? It'd taken a while, but he'd learned. He'd learned that Eclipse wasn't something you could run from. It wasn't something that you could beat.

His palms were sweaty. His breaths rasped in his throat.

They were going to take Dick away.

No.

He couldn't let that happen. Not to his best friend.

"Wally!" Connor shouted as the former speedster tore out of the room, running as fast as his painfully human body would allow. He was quickly out of breath, running on pure adrenaline, but he couldn't stop.

What did he have to lose?

Only his best friend.

He threw himself at the man carrying Robin's limp body–What had they done to him?–trying to remember Black Canary's combat training, managing to throw a punch that broke the soldier's visor. It was a small victory though as the man smacked him away like a bug, his armored glove striking his skull with a dull *thwack*.

He fell to the soft carpet, his body dead weight, his eyes rolling in his head as black edged around his vision. He wasn't what he once was; he wasn't fast, and he definitely wasn't strong. He'd lost too much weight. He was malnourished. He couldn't protect his friend.

The soldiers advanced on him, and he cringed, unable to defend himself, entirely at their mercy.

"...Don't..." Wally begged, his voice cracking in his throat. "...please...don't take 'im."

And they laughed.

The boy yelped as a steel-toed boot struck him in the ribs. Then another one. And another one. He tasted metal in his mouth, felt tears in his eyes.

"So your name's Dick?" Wally asked with a cheeky grin.

"It's a nickname." The other boy replied. "For Richard."

"Well, my name's Wally."

Dick smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know."

"Pfft." The speedster scoffed. "Of course you do.

"Do you wanna play some Atari?"

"Sure."

"I wish I could stop them."

Bruce was slumped uselessly in his chair, his eyes downcast and grey, staring at the tiled floor as his guests quickly left him. Soon, the only ones remaining were himself, Alfred, Clark, the commissioner and his daughter; his only remaining friends in this world. The only ones he needed.

Leslie Tompkins arrived moments later, having heard the news. She didn't say a word, instead resting a comforting hand on his shoulder, standing beside him, through everything.

His closest friends, all together in one room...

But...someone was missing.

As Batman, he could have done something. He could have stopped those soldiers in their tracks with no more than a heated glare. As Batman, he could have driven them out of their home, for good this time.

As Batman, he could have saved his son.

But no...

Batman couldn't have done anything either. There wasn't a hero alive who had the power to stand against Eclipse and its forces. Even if he managed to defeat these soldiers–which was impossible in his current state–they would only send more, and more, and more until they had what they wanted, and left devastation in their wake.

"This is all just some misunderstanding, Bruce." Clark murmured. "He'll be home in a week."

Bruce wanted to believe him...but he couldn't. He'd always been cynical, to a fault, but now...

Crime was swallowing up his city; petty human crime, something he could have easily stopped. Gordon couldn't keep up with it all, though he tried. Eclipse had worked so hard to level the playing field again, as if that could help. The world had needed heroes before, and it would need them again.

But one of those heroes wouldn't be Batman.

"Hey!" Connor shouted, standing at the end of the hallway, drawing the attention of the scum who were kicking a defenseless Wally.

What would Superman do?

Superman would pummel those guys into a pulp. Fly them to the highest mountaintop and leave them there until they froze. He wouldn't let them get away with hurting one of his teammates...friends. Wally was his friend–closest thing to a friend he'd ever had–and he'd be damned if he let these creeps get away with what they were doing.

Sheep. Cowards. Wally'd been kicked enough in his life. It was time for it to stop.

Even without his super strength, Connor was still stronger than average, all the work on the farm keeping up his muscles. He was fit, agile, ready to take down anyone who would dare hurt his friend.

He grabbed the heads of two of the soldiers, smacking them together, throwing them to the ground in a heap. He landed a kick to another's gut, sending him reeling. The fourth was tackled to the ground, his armor pelted with blow after blow after blow from his fists. Connor tossed him aside, like a limp doll.

These weren't anything like the soldiers he'd faced before. These had to be trainees, rookies sent on a simple retrieval mission. There was no way any of these jokers could have taken down a schoolboy, let alone a superhero. Eclipse hadn't expected any trouble.

But, they'd sure gotten it.

Breathing heavily, Connor turned to the last man, the one carrying Robin over his shoulder, the one with the cracked faceplate. The man was in red armor, not the normal black. He was the leader, the brains of the operation.

The man who held the remote–

Connor screamed as the collar around his neck sparked, sending him to the floor. His fingers tried to pry the thing from around his neck, but he couldn't. He never could. He'd tried countless times after they'd released him.

"I should take you in." The soldier spat. "All of you."

The clone glared at him, gritting his teeth as the onslaught of pain continued.

"Go to hell." He snarled.

The voltage increased, and Connor's cries cracked in his throat. He found himself floundering on the carpet, his muscles spasming–

Until it suddenly stopped...and he was panting, sore all over, twitching as his hands clutched numbly at the carpet.

The Eclipse soldiers were gone. Robin was gone.

But, Wally was still there, and he didn't look good.

AN: Don't forget to Review, and let me know what characters you'd like to see in the future. Right now, I have plans for Artemis, Catwoman, and Blue Beetle. Yup, yup.

Also, this universe's Connor keeps a "What Does Superman Do"/"What Does Lex Luthor Do" list just like his counterpart in "Superboy: The Boy Of Steel", which I'll go into more detail about in later chapters (but it's a really good read, and you should totes find a copy A+ would recommend).