A.N. Two or so chapters back, I mentioned metas…please ignore that, it was an accident. X( I know the Marvel verse doesn't have metas. Also, there are no OCs in this chapter. Promise. I do, however, use one or two minor characters who will be explained in the A.N. at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my gloriously creative (sarcasm :P) mind, which isn't for sale. I'm sure y'all are devastated.

Chapter Seven: Nyctophobia

"The plan went wrong. Kl—our control on the Riddler slipped, and he threw Robin into the water. Into the still premature spell. He was teleported, but not to our…specially prepared dimension."

"And the others?"

"Three of them have followed so far. We felt them go. They were also not transported to the expected location."

"There are six members of the team in total?"

"That is correct."

"What of the last two?"

"We do not know. We believe the League is protecting them somewhere."

"…it is unfortunate that you could not control the Riddler. It was a good plan, but it seems we overestimated you."

"It was not—we—"

"Oh, spare me your excuses. We were so close!"

"It would be Robin who messed it up. That birdboy has the most incredible knack for dismantling the elaborate, important, well-thought-out plans of respectable villains." A dramatic sigh. "Children these days."

"So what should we do now?"

"You shall do nothing! You failed us," the ecstatic laughter belied the dark words. "Don't you know what happens when people fail us?"

"Wait. We may still have need of them."

"She's right. Do not be so hasty."

"Gather your, ah, 'co-workers' and wait in the place. You will receive further instruction there."

"Say what now? You're actually gonna let this guy leave? After all the trouble he's caused us?"

"Go now." A warning glance, which was ignored. Still, they all waited until the magician was out of earshot before continuing.

"They failed us. We thought they were talented and practiced enough that it wouldn't be a problem. We were wrong."

"You were wrong."

A single, sidelong glance was the only acknowledgement given before he continued. "The blame, then, must also rest with us.

"But do not worry. There will be mayhem enough soon. For now, let us see if we cannot yet turn this to our advantage…."

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Something went wrong. Something went terribly wrong, and now he was here. Something went terribly wrong, and now he was in this other dimension where they had new poisons, different drugs that he wasn't used to, things he wasn't immune to, things that rendered him so very helpless with so little effort.

Something went wrong.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

"Ironman! Are you down there?"

"I'm—nngh—a little busy, Steve!"

This robot had to the most advanced he'd ever seen, Superboy decided. It really sounded human.

"Wait—" Captain America's shadow went before him on the stairs. "What is that noise?"

That noise was Superboy doggedly ripping away another chunk of armor. Eventually, he'd damage the thing enough that it would stop moving. But it was taking too long. With a grunt, he broke away and sprang towards Captain America, who barely had enough time to get his shield up. But he did have enough time, and Superboy found that not only could he not break the annoyingly bright, American-patterned shield, it hurt to slam into it at over seventy miles per hour. While he was recovering, Captain America hurried over to a groaning Tony Stark.

"Tony—"

"Forget me! Get the kid!" Tony knew he was injured, and it only served to make him mad. His pride was stung. Bad enough the kid had beat him. Tony didn't think he could stand it if he got away with it, too. "Go!"

Despite Tony's insistence, Steve only took two steps forward and stopped, unsure. He didn't want to attack a teenager, no matter how strong said teenager may be. Connor didn't attack, either. He could hear people—many more people—arriving. They'd been coming for a while, searching for him, and until the stupid robot showed up, he'd been able to avoid them. But he didn't like all the heartbeats pressing in, and it dawned on him that he'd been cornered. Or, almost; the guy who looked like an American flag still hadn't attacked him, and he and the robot were the only ones so far who knew where he was, but really, that was just a matter of time, now. Connor considered his options, briefly. There weren't many. Well, technically there was only one, but Connor wasn't a technical person.

He growled lowly, and Mr. American, who'd been edging cautiously forwards with his hands up in a gesture of peace, stopped. He didn't look keen to attack, but something told Superboy it wasn't out of fear.

Another squadron of what sounded like officers pulled up above, several hundred yards to the left of them. Connor snarled softly and jumped—straight up through at least five feet of solid concrete and then again, soaring high above the stadium and out.

Captain America's jaw didn't drop, but it came pretty darn close. For a very odd moment, he wasn't sure what to do. Behind him, he could hear Tony cursing, but ignored him.

Black Widow appeared in the passageway behind them. She stopped short when she saw Tony.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing," he grunted, annoyed. "Our target went—"

"That way, I know. He did this to you?"

Tony's studied silence was all the answer she needed. Black Widow sighed in exasperation. "Our ride is waiting outside. Let's go!"

She and Captain America helped Tony to his feet, despite his numerous protests. They were both careful of the sparks dancing dangerously around the edges of his ruined armor. Black Widow seemed not to hear Tony's continued rants, but they grated on Steve's nerves.

"So how long before you can fix your suit?" he interrupted Tony, who glared sulkily.

"That depends. I'll need to run a diagnostic."

"And how long will that take?"

"When can I get back to the tower?"

"…don't know. Widow?"

She flipped her hair out of her face and took a moment to think. "That's up to us. We need to take care of the target before we can do anything else."

"Great. Just great." Tony muttered irritably. They climbed into the S.H.I.E.L.D. 'copter waiting for them, and Tony was settled in the back. Captain America started to tend to him, but was waved away with a grumbled "Go find WonderBoy. I'll be fine."

He wasn't, of course, but they didn't need to know that.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Robin blinked, carefully. The world still refused to come into focus. He'd been trying…he'd left the tower…he couldn't think. But he remembered he'd smiled, open and honest and trustworthy when Pepper told him breathlessly, already headed for the door, that she had to go, just stay in his room please and read a book or do something quietly. Oh, and stay out of Tony's stuff. Please. Robin had listened to the door close and watched her hail a taxi. He'd waited, waited until her car was out of sight and then walked casually out that same front door and followed her. Or, he'd tried…he'd barely gotten past the fence when he heard something behind him and tensed. He ducked the first blow instinctually, but it was as he was turning to face his first opponent, someone else materialized and shoved something that smelled sharp and sickly sweet in his face. He shoved it away, he had barely breathed any in at all, but it burned where it touched him and the next few seconds had him reliving his very first kidnapping all over again. The only difference was that instead of a black car, it was a white limousine that he was dragged unwillingly into.

And now he was trying to breathe but he felt like he was choking and he was gasping in breath but it wasn't enough. He was drifting in a shadowy place made of water mixed with memories and emotion and the color blue. But he was also being carried somewhere. He listened to a faint voice singing words he couldn't quite understand, but he was listening to an argument between several men in gruff, lowered voices as well. The men came to a decision, the voice rose in agony and he flinched.

Butterflies broke open the sky to reveal endless nothing that was color but wasn't and made him dizzy so he told it to stop and it did. He was drowning in loneliness which subsided after a while but gently pried his grip free of reality. He fell further into emptiness and watched the stars play on the surface above. And the darkness came, and it was a thick, heavy fog that poisoned and suffocated him until the light burst into colors that flew up and left him behind.

And he dreamed that he was an ancient Greek god and his name was Artemis, which didn't make sense because he was pretty sure Artemis was a girl's name, but the silver voices that made everything else in the world seem pale didn't care and called him Lord and Master. But his personalities were restless kaleidoscopes and if he moved everything would end, but he couldn't help it and he moved anyway. And then everyone was yelling at him and chastising him, but they didn't understand, those puny mortals didn't know, didn't know why, but then, neither did he. And he stirred in anxious agony, and his body was a coffin he could never escape.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Wally's heart stuttered in his chest and he gasped. That—that was Superboy! The picture was fuzzy and distant; news cameras were lame here too, apparently. But he was sure it was Superboy. And in New York? Of all the places in the world…well, whatever. It didn't really matter. Kid Flash smiled, slowly. Finally, he knew where to go.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Anne Weying was waiting to die.

She was tired, so tired. Her husband—ah, but he wasn't anymore. Not that that changed anything. She still loved him. And they arrested her. They arrested her for no reason, so that he would come for her, but she told him. She told him, she stopped him from coming. But he gave her the devil that controlled her but didn't, that odd, prickly, unnatural feeling she both craved and hated.

So now she waited, patiently, for the lights to change. She looked at the building across the street through dull eyes. It was tall enough, yes. Most of these buildings were. They built buildings so tall these days, she thought, and her lips quirked up. It made everything so much easier for her.

The green turned yellow, then red, and the cars stopped. She was smiling as she stepped off the curb. The closer she got to the building, the better she felt. Eddie, she thought, almost peacefully. My love, my Eddie. I can't be with you anymore. I can't take it—the Other. Your Other. I have to go. She wondered, wistfully, if he'd miss her.

The stairs were on the side of the building, in a short alleyway. She was on the second step before she noticed the limp body on the ground. Gasping softly, she drew back, surveying the dark bloodstain with wide eyes. She couldn't quite tell what was blood and what was dirt and what was shadow, but she could tell that the injuries were serious.

Anne hesitated. She wanted—she wanted to die, but—could she leave someone like that? She glanced upwards, unsure. She didn't even know if the girl was still alive.

Well, there was only one way to find that out.

Anne walked to her carefully, noting the glass on the ground and in the body and the bruise she could see darkening the side of the girl's face. She lingered a bit, glancing away and around at the mouth of the alley, hoping fervently for someone, anyone to come and do this for her.

But no one did, and Anne was not cruel enough to leave anyone, stranger or no, to bleed out all alone in a darkened alley.

The smell of blood was overwhelming, and she held her breath as she knelt down, wincing as she put her weight on the sharp glass. Her skirt and coat offered some protection, but she could still feel small slices of pain up and down her legs. She adjusted her position, and it was a little better, but then she just had to grit her teeth and ignore it.

She swallowed as she maneuvered the girl's head off of a piece of glass and tried to examine the injuries. The bruising was extensive, but the cut—extending from the back of her neck to just below her ear—was shallow. The same could not be said for those littered across her body, however. Anne reached for her purse automatically, for the first aid kit she always kept there. It seemed hopelessly small next to so much blood. For a moment, Anne considered just calling the police and leaving. But no. They would know it was Anne through their creepy, tracker caller-ID technology and they might even blame her for it. Like the men the creature—the Other—had killed with Anne's body. They must know about that by now.

Anne shuddered suddenly and banished the memory from her mind. She bent determinedly over the prone body before her. She'd save this girl because she was not the thing that used to control her. And she'd do it by herself.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

J.A.R.V.I.S. was having difficulty connecting to Master Tony's suit. As an artificial intelligence or 'AI' system, he could not feel worry, but something that was almost concern was filtering through his synapses. He tried, again, and again, to establish a link, and failed each time. A wire sparked, and J.A.R.V.I.S. stopped.

There was something happening. Something J.A.R.V.I.S. could not name, could not comprehend. It came to him, not through his circuits but through something else, something foreign and intangible.

The lights in the Avenger's Tower flickered, and J.A.R.V.I.S. started to think.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Zatara stopped talking mid-sentence. An odd look flitted across his face.

"Giovanni?" Black Canary's tone made Batman look up from his work on the computer. In two long strides, he was there and peering closely at Zatara's vacant expression. An instant later he caught the magician as he collapsed, simultaneously taking his pulse.

"He's not breathing, but—"

Zatara changed that, then, gasping deeply and throwing out an arm blindly. It hit Batman's Kevlar-lined side limply and was ignored. His eyes widened, staring sightlessly ahead. The dark brown irises shimmered, briefly, and for a moment they changed color, becoming—

"Blue?"

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

"What is this?" Johann Schmidt was not pleased. He'd sent his men to capture an Avenger, not a child!

The HYDRA agents looked at each other.

"Sir...it's—he's from the Tower, sir. Like you said."

Schmidt closed his eyes briefly. He hated stuttering, but he let it go. Just this once. He stalked over to the shivering body on the floor.

"I said I wanted an Avenger. This is not an Avenger." He paused, then, running through the agent's answer in his head. "Wait. You said he was from the Tower? The Avenger's Tower?"

"Yes, sir. Ms. Pepper Potts left—"

"I told you I have no interest in that woman."

"Yes, sir. That is why we did not stop her, sir. But then this child exited the Tower behind her."

"You are certain he came from the tower?"

"Yes, sir."

Schmidt looked again at the crumpled heap on the ground, hard. His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of this.

"No one is allowed in that tower," he said slowly. "No one who is not an Avenger. Stark even conducts his business elsewhere...we have been trying to infiltrate the tower for weeks now, but without success. They don't hire outsiders. They don't hire anybody. Any P.R. happens away from their headquarters…"

For a minute, two, he remained motionless. Then he was on his knees, forcibly straightening the boy's limbs and turning him so he faced upwards. The boy's eyes were clenched shut in what looked to be silent agony, and his breathing was irregular. "Why is he reacting like this? He should have woken up by now. You compensated for his size, did you not? What is he—why is he overdosing?"

The HYDRA agents glanced at each other uneasily. Compensated for his size? They'd just wanted him down for the count; they didn't much bother with details.

Still, that was not the cause of Robin's extreme reaction, not that they had any way of knowing that. One of the base ingredients for the sedative was quite a common toxin; it was used in Bleach, some brands of car fuel, cigars, and even soda. And it was a toxin unique to their world.

Any other person in New York could have dealt with it. They were all used to it, to a certain degree. The agents knew this, and took it into account. They had never considered that Robin might not have been exposed to it before. They had never considered that he had been immunized to drugs that they had never heard of, drugs known to Gotham but not their world. But even if they had some way of knowing this, they still probably wouldn't understand what was happening; they wouldn't have known that Robin's system had been changed by the drugs he was so often exposed to. This was affecting the new toxin, altering its properties.

The drug was mutating, and they had no way to stop it.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Wally had never paid much attention to geography; at least, not until he became Kid Flash, and knowing the roads and cities became a necessity. And then he memorized America and parts of Canada and New Mexico. So normally, he would have no trouble finding a big city like New York. But, this wasn't his world. From the news report, New York was still in America, but that didn't say anything about where in America it was.

In other words, he needed a map. Maps were not easy to find, as Kid Flash was realizing. He stalked out of the twenty-third store that didn't stock maps, fuming. Seriously? What was wrong with this place? How did people travel? Or did they just not?

Muttering, he turned abruptly and headed back out of the city. Forget this. He was going to run to where New York was supposed to be. If it was there, great. If not, then he would scream in frustration up at the sky. Or something. And then find something to eat, because he was getting dangerously hungry.

A few minutes later, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. New York was in the same place. He thought it looked a little different, but couldn't be sure. In the distance, he could see helicopters and, faintly, flashing lights. He couldn't hear the sirens over the noise of the city, but he was sure they were there.

He saw a building shake, and a few birds few up into the sky. Wally smiled. Connor.

—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE—BREAKLINE— BREAKLINE—

Robin was lost in a dark place. He was lying on letters, and they were GMS, but he didn't know what that meant. And he was trying, he was trying so hard, because this had happened before and he knew. He knew.

He was in Gotham (had to be Gotham). He had been kidnapped (black, no, white car). They wanted something from him. But he didn't know who he was. If he was Robin, they wanted to know about Batman. If he was Richard, probably Bruce or maybe an account number.

But he didn't know.

He didn't know who they were (musical laughter—the Joker—but no), he suspected he'd never met them before (typical. Must want money. Or Batman…?). He couldn't say anything, anything, anything because he didn't know who he was. He didn't know. Just wait. Just wait, Batman will come. Batman always comes.

"Has he said anything?"

"No, sir."

"Keep trying."

"Yes, sir."

A.N. Why do I have so much trouble giving Kid Flash the spotlight? . I do not know. He should have some more time next chapter…sigh….

Speaking of, sorry about the looooong delay. In a word, schoolwork. In another, overwhelming. :P But, I have not forgotten, and I will continue to update whenever I can. Thank you all so much for your support…you are all truly amazing. :)

Oh, before I forget; Anne Weying is an actual character. She was the ex-wife of one of Spiderman's villains—Venom, or Eddy Brock, I think his name was—and was she-venom at least twice, both times unwillingly. (Apologies if I'm wrong.) She was killed off pointlessly to make Eddy, who already hated Spiderman with a fiery, burning passion, hate Spiderman with a fiery burning passion. Needless to say, I did not like this. Y'all can look her up to make sense of the things she was saying, or you can wait a few chapters and I'll explain it a little more.

Also, do those of you who might care, Anne's portion was inspired by the song Buildings by Regina Spektor.

Constructive criticism welcomed and greatly appreciated. Please, was this chapter too fragmented? I think so…I don't like it…but I never like my own writing. :P Common curse of any writer. But I'm also super busy and so didn't edit this…I need a beta….