Author's Note: Things begin to turn sour after starting so positively. Next chapter will be big. Damian's POV.

Enjoy.

Shattered 7

Damian

There is a variable I missed. There is a solution to this conundrum. It occurred to me during Father's explanation of why the beacon network is insufficient for our purpose. If it is Father's electrical field causing the time skips, by it somehow not agreeing the electrical field of the environment, perhaps we can adjust it so that it matches his surroundings. All we would require in that instance is a portable generator that when worn will continually monitor and adjust Father's electrical field to match the environment at any given time. I believe my knowledge of temporal mechanics and quantum theory will allow me to succeed in this endeavour. I begin before Father even concludes his briefing.

"Need a hand?" It is Drake. I have been working for thirty-five minutes without interruption, however I have felt his eyes watching me since the beginning. Now he speaks, as if he could even comprehend my theory, let alone its practical application to the belt I am designing. I look up briefly.

"No. Your time would be better served assisting the others in constructing more beacons." I privately pat myself on the back for my diplomacy. The last few days have not been easy, especially with Drake swanning around. Dick is my friend, no matter his age. Jason is a warrior, one I can admire now, despite what he does to me in the future. They both deserve the Robin name at fifteen, as do I. Drake...Drake is a joke. He is a small, scrawny specimen without any of the fire or grit everyone else possesses in spades. He has always been weak and overconfident, but to see him in his infancy just highlights how little development has taken place over the years. He can only be a hindrance to this mission's success.

"Nah, we only need three. After the last two days, we can all pretty much make one each. It looks like you need some assistance though."

"Perhaps you should get your eyes tested...Tim. I am fine working without help." I tell him whilst resuming the delicate act of incorporating Father's algorithm into the belt's sensor network to better adapt to transitions. The circuitry seems correct. I connect it to the laptop I use for program uploads and test it with a series of hypothetical scenarios. It fails to cope with a simulated time shift immediately. Drake is still in front of me. The next time I try to run the scenario after tweaking the software, the circuitry melts. I maintain a straight face to not give Drake the satisfaction of seeing me disappointed. He rounds the table without being asked and then unceremoniously peers over my right shoulder at the belt.

"Do you know what you did wrong?" Drake is not asking it as an honest question: he has his own theory on the matter, despite having no idea what I am trying to accomplish. I sigh lethargically.

"Tell me your asinine theory then."

"That's the wrong resistor for the circuit you're using. The first time you got lucky: the second time, the current..."

"I do have eyes as well, Drake. I did just see the same thing you did." I snap to cut off his kindergarten lesson on resistor use in circuitry. I hold up a hand. "You've said your piece and I have listened. Now kindly go away and leave me to my work." Drake lingers behind me for some time before standing up. I have already removed the defective circuit and begun work its replacement, ensuring I select the correct resistor before giving attention to anything else. I know he wants to say something.

"I care about him too, you know. We need him out there with us if we're going to fix this mess. Whatever problems you have with me in your time, I suggest you bury them...for the good of the mission if nothing else. And make sure that thing works. You know what'll happen if you don't." I do not respond. I simply continue working. He walks away. I don't need to explain myself to an idiot like him. I may have given him some leeway during our earlier games, but that does not mean he is worthy of my time. I deem the device both complete and functional ninety minutes later. When I present it to Father, he looks dubious.

"Are you certain this will work according to our needs? I think it may be prudent to run further tests on its usage before graduating to field testing." I do not like being second-guessed, not after nearly five years alone. Alfred is an accommodating presence, but not in any position to question my actions. Father has just arrived. Whilst I grant his knowledge level is beyond almost all other human beings on Earth, it is no longer beyond mine. My time here has taught me to trust my instincts. They tell me I am right to hand him this technology. They tell me it will work, like all my other innovations in this desolate landscape. I remain firm.

"I have done all necessary calculations required. According to all simulations run, it will prove capable of sustaining an eight-hour operation without problem." Or so I believe. I admit to...assuming certain aspects of its performance, but overall am satisfied it will be effective. Father still appears unsure, but accepts it with a nod of gratitude.

"The beacons are almost ready for deployment. To ensure speed and efficiency, Alfred will join us. We can check the connectivity of the network upon return. He and I will form a team. Your pairings from yesterday will remain unchanged. We will depart as soon as the beacons are loaded for transport. We need to progress, quickly." We are all aware that time is an abundant commodity here. I understand the concept of 'spinning my wheels' with far greater appreciation than before being trapped here. I appreciate many things now, that I used to dismiss. I want to leave. Soon. Father's urgency mirrors my own. It pleases me to no end. I nod in agreement.

"Yes, Father."

The beacons are completed and loaded before midday. Father and Alfred ride in the transport vehicle. Everyone else takes the bikes. This time, Jason opts to wear the same uniform as the others. It suits him as well as it suits Dick and Drake, I.e. not at all. It hardly comes as a surprise to me. I have always looked the best in the Robin uniform, something that this experience has only thrown into sharper relief. Dick and Jason decide to race one another on route to the city. They are as brash and competitive as they are in my time, but evidently running on much greater amounts of testosterone here. Drake rides alongside the car's left flank. I take the right.

Several times I catch him looking at me. I know why. This is because he deliberately telegraphs his concerns by looking at my father and then to me. He is unconvinced of the belt's ability to work. He thinks I am putting Father in danger, given what happened before. I gift him a hard stare and his mute inquisition stops abruptly. Ahead, Jason is winning. Dick does not look interested in the contest anymore. Neither am I. I just want this ordeal to be over. Enough time has been wasted. Once this sensor network is complete and we can track the Clock King accurately, the other pieces required for this solution will fall into place. I am certain of it.

We cross the city limits without incident. Once at Gotham Cathedral, the aberrations begin to gather as they did before. Fortunately, a strategy has been devised to counteract the effect. It involves both Father and Jason's teams splitting in opposite directions, therefore dividing the attentions of the aberrations and getting them to disperse. While both those teams will find placing their beacon difficult, Dick and I are going to breeze through our task. This time, we will win easily.

When a time jump occurs, twenty minutes after our arrival, the cityscape is wholly recognisable. For me, this is proof enough the belt works perfectly, as I expected. There is a minor problem that might occur...but the chances of it resulting in disaster are negligible. Judging from the incomplete Wayne Enterprises skyscraper on the horizon, it is only a few years after Father's birth. The building was completed and operational by the time of my grandparents' murder. It is not our destination. Our destination is in the Financial District, specifically the very edge of it.

We must place the beacon atop of the Clairmont Building, a former railway station that became one of the largest privately-owned banks in Northern America by the mid 1920s. Even the earthquake did not destroy the building. It only moved its foundations six inches. It is ideal for our requirements. I often come here when I need a safe haven during my travels. Despite my absolute expertise in climbing the structure, Dick fluidly scales it several seconds ahead of me. The fact he is the one shouldering the beacon only puts me in further awe of his abilities. He is stronger than he looks, frightening since he already possesses an enviable build. I did not enjoy seeing him unclothed. His abdominal development is superior to mine, as are some other attributes found below the waistline I am not willing to discuss. He was not the only one.

I thought I had developed well during these last few years. Both my height and weight followed upward trajectories, well beyond the normal range for adolescents. My strength, stamina and endurance also increased markedly. In short, when Father did finally arrive, I expected to be something he could be proud of. Then the others came along. Although I am taller than all of them, Both Jason and Dick are better-built. In Dick's case it is from an aesthetic standpoint. In Jason's, he is simply bigger and thicker than anyone else. He would destroy me in a strength-based competition. Even Drake is better sized than me where I understand it really counts. That irks me. And I needed a trim, apparently. I have corrected that problem, but there is little I can do about other shortcomings. We graduate up to the building's highest spire.

"You really came through for the big guy earlier with that belt, Dami." Dick tells me whilst hanging upside down to better tighten the bolts on the beacon's bracket. "How'd you fix it so quick? I thought it'd take a few days to iron-out at the very least."

"I just got lucky." I tell him whilst switching the device on and checking its status. All lights show green. It is working. When I hear a low, but constant beep, I know it is linked with its nearest neighbour, across Gotham Bridge. I radio Father and give him a situation report.

"Good. We are almost finished here. I understand Jason and Tim are already at the rendezvous point, awaiting our return." I grit my teeth at that statement. It. Is. Impossible. We had less distance to travel, an easier vertical climb and the advantage of not having to evade time aberrations to accomplish our goal. I made sure they received the more difficult task. By my estimates, they should not have completed their placement for another twenty-two minutes. I accounted for both their skillsets and the likelihood that Jason would carry that team sooner rather than later. I compose myself for a dignified response.

"We will be heading to the rendezvous in three minutes. We should arrive nine minutes after. Robin out."

"We're ALL Robin, dumbass? If you want us to know which one you are, use numbers. You're Robin FOUR. Got it?" Jason interrupts over the net, breaking multiple conventions by doing so. I do not reply to his childish games. I am above such nonsense. I look over and catch Dick smiling at his successor's attempts at humour. I do not like that he is amused. It paints him in a bad light.

"It's secure." Dick tells me with an inverted thumbs-up gesture. "We're hot to trot. Sucks we got beaten to the finish line. Really thought we were killing it out here." He is a better sportsman than me. I am livid to come second in anything, especially a competition to determine who is the best Robin, which this whole exercise is clearly about.

"We can still beat Father and Alfred back to the rendezvous. If we come last to a butler..."

"Alfie was SAS, Dami. I'm guessing before we all showed up, he was pretty good. Chill, okay? It's just banter. The most important thing is..." He trails off deliberately. It is an obvious prompt for me to finish his sentence. If he were anyone else, I would ignore such feeble tactics. I sigh.

"The mission. The mission is the most important thing."

"Damn right. You sound just like the big man. Come on, let's go."

We do not beat Father back to the rendezvous. I am now bitterly disappointed with our efforts, despite achieving our goals in short order. It is not Dick's fault. His fluidity is undiminished on ropes. I missed two vital transitions for my grapnel line. My corrections meant we arrived almost forty-five seconds behind my estimates. It is not enough for most to best me, but it is ample time for Father. Evidently, all the years chasing me across the city have benefited Alfred's speed and fitness to their advantage. Father is succinct in plotting our next manoeuvres.

"With the network in place, we can now track time shifts and predict what will come next. We now need to exploit this to quickly gather all necessary information on the devices. The time-altering device should be our top priority. It is that equipment that will determine whether we succeed or fail. Understood?"

We all nod in agreement. I thought the objectives from this juncture were obvious, but I forget his audience. When I consider our allies, his spelling-out of the situation makes perfect sense. They are somewhat...obtuse in comparison with myself and Father. He turns towards the half-finished Wayne Enterprises building and seems lost in thought. Alfred mirrors him.

"Reminiscing, Sir?" The old man asks him. Father offers him half-a-smile.

"Just...thinking, old friend. Just thinking. Let us return to the house."

Alfred claps him on the back. Before I can caution them against interfering with the belt's artificial field, both are suddenly engulfed in a blinding red light. I cannot speak. There is no time. I watch in mute horror as the red light emits an ear-piercing screech then compresses into nothing. Father and Alfred are gone. Completely. I have...killed them both. The belt failed. It was...it was...

CRACK

I lose my balance and fall to the ground. I look up and find Jason looming over me, his face is beyond irate. He jabs a finger in mine.

"You didn't fucking tell them, did you?"

"What are you...?"

"Tim said this could happen. He said as long as they didn't touch properly, it didn't matter if that belt didn't work perfectly. You didn't tell them though, did you?" Suddenly, Dick is beside Jason, gently pushing him back.

"Jay, what are you talking about? What the hell just happened to them?" He asks his predecessor. I hear Drake sigh from just out of view.

"They imploded due to interference with the artificial field interacting with another electrical field that did not match the environment. It was too much for the belt's software to calculate in time. The phase variance was too sensitive." Drake informs everyone to tar me as the villain of this piece. It is...Father is...I have...

Killed him.

I killed my father...

"I have no idea what any of that means. How do we get them back?" Dick's voice asks from above me. It all suddenly sounds very far away from me. Even as Drake offers up a damning reply, I barely hear him speak the words I already know will condemn me.

"We can't."