.

Chapter Eleven

—Teen Titans: Robin—

—Tuesday: Outside Steel City—

Day three, and the Titans were still roaming free. Admittedly, they hadn't done much actual roaming. Instead they had waited on their jet for the inevitable Justice League ambush... that never came. Robin was rather offended: They'd been stood up.

In the days they waited, the Titans had gotten more and more anxious as they imagined exactly how the Justice League would apprehend them. Speedy thought the Flash would show up and rush them all to the Hall of Justice before they had time to blink. Jinx thought Superman would just lift their plane, with them inside, and fly it to the nearest prison. Beast Boy thought Martian Manhunter would surreptitiously replace one of them, infiltrate the plane, and capture the rest one by one. He had then proceeded to ask them all increasingly personal questions as tests, until Robin pointed out that Martian Manhunter could read minds to find out the correct answers and Raven got so annoyed that she threatened to hand Beast Boy over to the League herself.

Robin never joined in the hypothesizing. He knew precisely which League member would show up: Batman. Batman had seen him, and the man wouldn't rest until he had the Titans under his control—all their history, motives, and secrets filed away on his computer in the Batcave.

Just because Batman didn't strike right away didn't mean he had forgotten about them, quite the opposite. Robin understood how Batman thought—every Batman. He was waiting for the Titans to make a move, to venture out into the open, instead of chasing them and having them keep flying away.

The non-stop travel and nighttime excursions had taken their toll on the Titans. It had been nice—no,necessary—to have a bit of time to recoup physically and mentally, to let their bruises heal and their sore muscles ease and their minds resharpen. But that time was over.

They were done hiding. They were restless. They had a job to do.

Robin was perched on the edge of the overpass, his back against the cold metal railing. The only thing between him and a long fall into busy highway traffic was an outcropping of a few inches on which he balanced skillfully, leaning all his weight backwards on his heels.

"Are you sure you're okay on your own?" Raven's voice came from the communicator he held before him.

"Yes. It needs to be this way—if it's who I think it is, I stand a better chance of getting him to talk if it's just me. And you guys are more than capable of taking down Mammoth without my help."

"Any sign of the League?"

"Negative. You?"

"None. If they show up, we'll call you."

He nodded. "Good luck. Robin out."

He clipped the communicator back on his belt and scanned the cars zooming underneath him. The street was a river of light and noise. The swell and fade as each car screeched past formed a constant rhythm like ocean waves, and each glaring pair of headlights burned themselves on the insides of his eyelids.

As he waited, his thoughts turned to Slade. The villain had long since reached the east coast, and so had the mystery signal. Fortunately, the League hadn't locked them out of the satellite—no doubt part of Batman's plan to draw them out into the open—so the Titans hadn't lost their (meager) ability to track, even as they were being tracked themselves. Slade's signal journeyed from city to city with no apparent pattern...

Was he searching for the Titans? Should they confront him?

Robin had mulled over those questions, among others, over the past several days as he sat with his eyes fixed on the screen of the control room's computer, frowning in concentration, and watched Slade's message for new clues over and over and over again until he knew it by heart. Slade hadn't mentioned Robin once in it, but for some reason that felt like a bigger threat than anything. It was a taunt. A challenge. Reverse psychology. Or maybe Slade wanted him to think it was reverse psychology, when in reality he didn't care about Robin. Or maybe…

Or maybe Robin was reading too much into it.

He'd watched the message so many times that he began having the old nightmares. He would wake up gasping, in a cold, terrified sweat, with his blanket thrown to the floor from all his thrashing. His teammates never said anything outright, but he knew they noticed because Speedy had been yawning a lot lately and Raven would give Robin short, concerned looks. Robin wondered what he must've been muttering (Or had he been yelling?) as he slept, to make his friends that frightened to mention it.

Maybe Slade was searching for the Titans, but that would just make their job of searching for him easier. And they would confront him, but later tonight.

With every minute that slipped past Robin's anxiety wound tighter and tighter because with every minute that slipped past Slade got a better foothold in this world. But they couldn't face Slade unless they were as prepared as possible—the word 'trap' never left Robin's mind. Being prepared meant resting until they were at full strength, and it also meant collecting as much information as they could in order to avoid surprises.

So, later tonight it would be. First Robin needed one more question answered, and that was the identity of their unknown player.

The mystery signal spent most of its time in Gotham—where it was untouchable by the Titans, since Robin wasn't keen on entering Bat territory—except tonight it took a trip to Steel City. Seeing his opportunity, Robin followed. The satellite tracking wasn't precise enough, so he had to employ other means to pick up the trail. Tuning into the police scanner frequency on his communicator had brought a certain arrest to his attention, which in turn brought him here to this overpass, where he was waiting.

An armored police van approached. Finally. The cramping in his legs was only a couple minutes from unbearable. His muscles screamed in both pain and relief as he stood and stepped off the ledge, timing it so he landed dead-center on the back of the moving van, making no more noise than a pebble pinging off the exterior might. He dug the soles of his shoes against the smooth surface, orienting himself to the air buffeting him while the vehicle continued to hurtle down the highway.

This is wrong, a nagging voice informed Robin as he took the small laser-cutter from a pocket. Alarm bells were ringing in his head to match the pounding in his chest.

Wrong, as the acrid smell of melting metal hit his nostrils.

Wrong, as he dropped in a pellet full of knock-out gas, and waited for it to disperse.

Wrong, as he set the laser-cutter against the van's roof again, making the opening large enough for him to fit through.

Wrong, as the disc of metal clattered to the floor inside, and he landed soundlessly in a crouch on top of it.

Shrugging his cape off his shoulders, he straightened and let his eyes quickly and instinctively sweep the area. The plain, grey-walled room was completely closed off and separate from the driver's seat. Good. His eyes skimmed over the slumped, unconscious form of the guard. Good. (Wrong. All wrong!)

A voice spoke behind him. The exact voice he'd been expecting, with a computerized, metallic tone like nails on a chalkboard. Robin had hoped to be proved wrong, for once.

"What took you?"

Red X was casually sitting on the hard bench in the police van like he was riding on a city bus; like he didn't notice or mind the thick handcuffs around his wrists. The cuffs were attached to the leg of the bench by a chain so short that he wouldn't be able to stand, if he tried.

Robin felt the usual hatred boil inside him for the thief who wore that stolen suit. It was his suit. His design. His technology. From the tattered cape, to the delicate wiring of the teleportation system woven throughout the tight black fabric, to the filter in the skull-like mask that was the reason Red X was awake despite the knock-out gas. Each crime Red X committed, he committed due to Robin's help.

And now Robin was committing crimes to help Red X. The irony wasn't lost on Robin, and judging by the way Red X's mask shifted—he could only be smirking underneath—it wasn't lost on him, either.

Robin hated this. He hated the way Red X was looking at him, or at least the way he knew Red X must be looking at him since all he saw was that chalk-white skull. Robin wanted nothing less than to see Red X locked up, but due to these circumstances that would be the worst possible situation.

All the things Red X would happily share with the Justice League about his universe, about the Teen Titans… about Robin…

"You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna uncuff me?" Red X rattled the chains to get Robin's attention. "The driver'll notice soon that his buddy's not responding. We don't have time for your moral dilemma right now, kid."

His anger at Red X lumping them together as a 'we' silenced the nagging voice. No, not silenced. It was still there, it just couldn't be heard over the inner roars of outrage. (For now.)

And there was the fact that Red X was totally correct. The floor was humming from the vehicle racing over the road, but soon the driver would suspect something and the tires would screech to a stop. They could have a minute... or a few seconds. Not enough time to do the inter-dimensional transfer, and precious little time to break out. But he didn't need Red X, of all people, to inform him of that.

First things first: Finding Red X's power belt. That technology was dangerous, and he couldn't leave it behind. There was a square, steel chest in the corner, with a lid held tightly shut by three heavy-duty locks. Safe bet. He smashed the locks off one-by-one with his bo-staff (the fastest way), stabbing at their weakest points.

The belt, while not the original—which Robin had gotten back during the Professor Chang incident and now stored in a secure vault in Titans Tower—was a near-perfect replica. It was gunmetal grey, made of a material somewhere between iron and cloth. And, that was weird... Just by a quick look, he could tell the xenothium compartments were more compact; more efficient. Also, as he picked it up from the bottom of the evidence locker, it seemed lighter than he remembered.

It wasn't a decent imitation of the original. It was better than the original.

He turned back to face Red X. "I thought you were too good to get caught."

"Got unlucky; stumbled in a trap set by some archer with even less of a sense of humour than you, if you can believe it. Don't think I was who he was expecting... He didn't seem too happy to see me."

"Neither am I." Robin flicked out a lock-pick from the gloved index finger of his free hand and set to work on the thief's handcuffs. "They let you keep your mask on?"

"It doesn't come off easily—one of my improvements. Wanna give it a try?" Red X goaded.

An electrical device built into the fabric, to shock anyone who tried to remove it? The technology existed, certainly, but it was risky—especially around water. In any case, Robin wasn't falling for it. "No thanks," he said as the locks clicked. The handcuffs clanged to the floor by Red X's feet.

"My hero," Red X said dryly, flexing his freed wrists and standing. He stuck out a dark-gloved hand to reclaim his power belt from Robin, but Robin promptly stepped back and held it up out of his reach.

Robin glared at the thief. "Don't even think about it. If you want this—" He slung the power belt over his shoulder. "—then follow me."

"And you'll give it back?" asked Red X skeptically.

"If you answer my questions."

"All right, I'll play along. Lead the way."

Robin grabbed the rim of the opening he'd created on the ceiling, swinging himself smoothly up and out onto the back of the vehicle. The wind greeted him, trying to shove him back, but he stood steady as he gave Red X one second—no more than that—to catch up before launching himself off the police van. He made an arcing leap to the bus in the next lane. The roof of the bus was slightly rounded, more slippery. He kept his footing long enough to make his next jump. The hollow thuds of X's landings lagged by less and less with each lane they crossed. Robin kept one hand tightly gripping the belt over his shoulder, in case X caught up and tried to snatch it.

They alighted on the back a semi-truck going in the opposite direction, to take them as far from the police vehicle as possible. Robin stopped here, planting his feet firmly against the flat trailer.

Robin's cape waved in the wind like a flag; X's billowed like a cloud of smoke. They both stood steadfast, despite the strong push of the wind. The passing street lights caused their shadows to make sweeping cycles across the metal.

Robin had all the power here. In his possession was the essential piece of technology for all of Red X's weapons. Then why was he so on edge? Dealing with X always made him frustrated, and not just because this guy in the Red X suit was airing his dirty laundry, flaunting the old error he'd tried to lock away and forget about. It was also the condescending way Red X treated Robin, like he carried some small, golden secret that gave him immunity; like he had a finger on the scale, ready to shift the balance of power at any second; like he was the one calling the shots.

As though reinforcing this thought, Red X spoke first. "Gotta say, kid… Never thought I'd see the day where you'd be playing the criminal."

"I'm not," Robin snapped. His conscience was whining shrilly, begging to differ.

"What do you call that little break-and-enter back there?"

"I call it a detour," he retorted. "You're still going to jail, just not theirs."

"Not if I get that back." Red X pointed at the belt. "All I have to do is answer some questions and you'll hand it over, right?"

Not a chance. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Faking surprise, Red X clapped a hand over his heart like he'd been stabbed. "I'm hurt. I thought we had a deal."

"You aren't in any position to make deals."

The voice modulator lent a sinister quality to Red X's chuckle. "We'll see about that. I'll humour you for now, kid, since I like you so much. So, about those questions... Fire away." He made a gun with his thumb and two fingers and 'shot' it at Robin.

"Why are you here?" Robin demanded.

"Because you have my belt, and I'd like it back."

It wasn't like Robin expected Red X to make this easy. "Why are you in this universe?" he specified with as much venom as he could fit into one short question.

"Why should you be the only ones who get to have inter-dimensional fun?" Red X countered smoothly. Then he shook his head and gave a single, grating laugh. "Oops, I answered your question with another question. That's gotta be irritating."

"Fun?" Robin spat out.

"Probably not something you're too familiar with."

"How is this fun?"

"Consider it a vacation. Ever since you kids got so organized it's been harder and harder to try anything back home. Especially since you're keeping such a close eye on all the xenothium. Here it's different: No one knows who I am, and that means they have no clue how to deal with me. I'm not the guy in your cast-offs anymore."

"Except you did get caught," Robin pointed out, just a little smugly.

Red X waved away this pesky detail. "Another couple minutes and I was going to bust myself out. I didn't have money for a cab and figured I might as well take advantage of the free ride."

"You haven't explained how you knew about this world in the first place," said Robin, his voice darkening into full-on interrogation mode.

"You send the bad guys back, they go to jail, sooner or later they break out and start talking. And you've been missing for what, a couple weeks now?" X gave a lazy shrug. "Word gets around."

"So you just decided to break into our Tower and jump through the portal on a whim? You didn't even know if that technology was safe!"

"Safe enough for you. I've always been a risk-taker—all part of the gig. And I didn't break into your precious Tower. But it wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Here Red X gave a pause, watching Robin bristle at the barbed reminder of past mistakes. "No," he continued, "someone else did the breaking for me. Left the door wide open."

"To the Tower?"

"And to this." Red X spread his arms wide, as if to encompass the entire universe. "Thought I'd check it out when I noticed your front door get busted down while no one was home. It turns out that wasn't theonly door he left open behind him."

Robin still couldn't believe that Red X would take his chances with the portal, just because it was in front of him and left active, all for a little fun. He knew the thief must have some other goal in this world. But nothing Robin could threaten would pry the truth from X on that matter, since X protected his secrets as fiercely as Robin did his own. The best Robin could do was keep X talking, and observe him carefully for any sort of slipped reaction—a waver, or a twitch, or a careless hand gesture—that might yield information. "Had nothing better to do than keep tabs on us?" asked Robin, crossing his arms.

"What can I say? Things have been slow. I try to keep my eyes open for opportunities, and that was one opportunity I couldn't pass up. It's not every day you get a free ticket to visit another dimension."

"Or, you knew beforehand what Slade was going to do," Robin replied, jabbing an accusing finger in Red X's direction. "You knew he was building a portal, and you knew he was going to infiltrate Titans Tower to gain access to it. Which means you know what he's planning."

Was it possible for someone with a skull for a face to look bored? "Sorry, don't know and don't care. "

"You don't know what he's planning? At all?"

"No."

Even though he didn't want to admit it, Robin knew that was the truth. Red X was a lot of things—a slippery thief, a sometimes-ally, and a thorn in Robin's side—but if there was one thing he wasn't, it was someone else's pawn. He never worked for anyone but himself. He had no reason to protect Slade.

Robin's communicator chimed on his hip, and he scowled when he heard Red X's metal-toned scoff. What did he care what a villain thought of the Titans jingle? Robin personally liked it. He flipped the device open, keeping Red X in his field of vision as he did so. "Robin here. What's going on?"

It was Speedy this time, his tiny face on the tiny screen holding a tiny annoyed frown. "We sent Mammoth back," Robin's teammate told him, "but before we could leave—"

"The League showed up?" asked Robin.

"Not the League… that team. They didn't attack. They said they just wanted to talk."

"Did you?"

"Nah, we bolted. They looked like they were going to try and stop us—but against Raven, what can they do?"

Robin nodded. That team knew about Raven's powers from Mount Justice, but anticipating what she was about to do and being able to stop her were two different things. And really, sending teens after the Teen Titans? Like they would be able to gain their trust or something? What was Batman playing at? Wait, that was a stupid question—Batman didn't play.

The Batman that Robin knew also didn't send a bunch of kids to take care of his business for him, and Robin was very much Batman's business. Well, the Titans certainly weren't going to make friends with those other young heroes and let down their guards just to be double-crossed and dumped at the League's feet.

"I was right," Robin said to Speedy. "It's X. I'm sending him back ASAP."

"Hold up, Robin. There's something important you need to know. That team... There were two kids missing."

"Which—" At that moment they rushed under an overpass, the world flashing from light to dark and back again. Robin heard the twin thumps as two pairs of feet—one lightly and one not-so-much—hit the metal of the truck trailer behind him, sending vibrations his way. "Talk to you later, Speedy."

The two kids Speedy had talked about—Kid Flash and Kid Robin—were unfolding themselves to their full heights slowly, widening their stances and leaning into the wind as they adjusted to the moving surface. Robin had to do a double-take to be certain it was Kid Flash, since the black and grey uniform he wore was a stark contrast to his usual yellow and scarlet.

"Oh, this'll be good," said Red X, suddenly at Robin's side. Robin clutched tighter at the belt he was holding hostage.

"You!" The lenses of Kid Robin's domino mask narrowed at the thief.

Red X looked back calmly. "Me."

"You know him?" both Robins asked each other at once.

"We go way back," said Red X with satisfaction, socking Robin's arm in a way that might appear chummy, except the hit was hard enough to make him flinch.

"How do you know him?" Robin asked the kid, resisting the urge to rub his arm. It hurt enough that he predicted he'd have a bruise come morning. X was going to pay for that.

"He's been skulking around Crime Alley," Kid Robin informed him. "He's one of your criminals, isn't he? I thought the signal in Gotham might've been him, but we couldn't—"

"Couldn't catch me?" finished Red X.

"This is the guy you were talking about?" Kid Flash asked his Robin. "What was his name again?"

"X-Man," said the youngest boy brightly.

'X-Man', Robin mouthed to himself in disbelief, shaking his head. "Red X," he corrected. "And yes, he's my problem."

"He's in our universe, so he's kind of our problem too." Kid Robin gave his older self a friendly smile, which was matched by the speedster beside him. "Let us help you."

Before he refused, Robin looked aside so he didn't have to see the smiles break. "I've got this under control. You can go now. Please go."

"You busted him out of a police van!" exclaimed Kid Flash, flinging his arms in big, exasperated gestures. "How is that 'under control'? If you worked with us, you wouldn't need to do stuff like that. It's like you're trying to make things more difficult for yourself."

"You don't understand the situation we're in," said Robin.

"Yes, we do," Kid Robin asserted. "We know about the villains—"

"And the portal," added Kid Flash. "We know about that, too. That's why you guys glow, right?" He squinted at the inter-dimensional travelers through his red-tinted goggles, and then he frowned as his eyes veered more towards Red X. "Except... why is he way brighter?" he wondered aloud.

"We more than understand. We overstand," the younger Robin said with confidence.

"No, you don't." Robin sighed tiredly. "You have no idea." If they did, they wouldn't be pressing the issue like this. If they did, they would be running as far away as they could to avoid getting mixed up with the Titans.

"Then explain!" ordered Kid Robin.

"Either you explain right now, or we'll be forced to… uh… use force." Kid Flash gave a quick cringe at his own mess of words. "We're not letting you run away again."

Robin weighed his options. Work with these kids, which meant he would get to send X back, but give himself up. Or fight them, which meant he would have to fight both kids on his own, and possibly lose. He'd lose Red X, too, because the thief would undoubtedly slink away during the battle. And then there was option number three…

He tossed the xenothium-powered belt to Red X, who up until now had been watching the conversation like it was an incredibly entertaining play. "Catch." And Red X did, instinctively. That had to be why, because his eyes were wide and he seemed genuinely surprised. "You're going to help me," Robin explained.

Red X buckled the power belt around his waist. The scarlet, slashed 'X's on his palms, chest, and mask all glowed for a moment as the xenothium circulated through the suit. "What makes you so sure I won't ditch you? Can't trust me, remember?"

"The fact that you don't like owing me any favours."

"Got me there. And besides, I wouldn't miss this for the world. Any world."

"Why are you being like this?" Kid Robin demanded his counterpart. "We're just trying to help!"

"Don't need your help," replied Robin tersely.

"But you'll take his?" Kid Flash nodded in Red X's direction. "What would Batman say?"

Red X looked at Robin, and for once Robin couldn't even guess what expression lay under the mask. "Good question. What would he say?"

"That's it," Kid Robin stated. The glare on his face made Robin feel a pang of some strangled emotion he couldn't name. Because it was like the kid was trying on his father's shoes—that glare was ten sizes too big for him. He pointed at Robin accusingly. "You're aiding and abetting a criminal. That makes you one, too."

He sounded like the little kid he was.

Taking his teammate's lead, Kid Flash stood straight and tightened his hands into fists, ready for a fight. "Stop," he told Robin, "or we'll take you straight to jail. Do not pass 'Go'. Do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Well?" Red X asked Robin.

This situation was going to get a lot worse before it got better. But what choice did he have? "Go. But only restrain. Don't hurt them, or else—" Robin's sentence was punctuated with a pained grunt, since Kid Flash—who didn't seem to have the same hesitations about attacking Robin as Robin did them (but then again, speedsters weren't ones for hesitation in general)—charged with his super-speed and drove a fist into Robin's gut.

Fighting an opponent with super-speed was a rather new experience for Robin. Chances of his punches connecting were slim to none, he knew that. He also knew that this wasn't an ideal field of battle for a Flash—there just wasn't any room to run on this narrow trailer. Choosing to play up this advantage, Robin armed himself with his bo-staff to fend off Kid Flash with wide swings and try to hit him with a stunning blow to slow him down.

The other two fighters were circling and sizing each other up. Bright red throwing discs or 'X's were hurled, depending on who had the wind at their back at the moment, in attempts to make the other yield an opening for attack. The dangerously sharp objects flying past in Robin's peripheral vision made him frown. What had he told Red X about not hurting them?

One 'X'-shaped throwing star got carried on a gust of air, and Robin had to place a hand on Kid Flash's head and force him down so that the shard of xenothium didn't zing its way into his skull. Accelerated healing could only do so much.

Kid Flash thanked Robin by shoving him hard in the chest, sending him lurching back so that his heels hung over the edge of the trailer. He looked down, catching a glimpse of rushing asphalt and large tires that would have no problem crushing him flat. Gulping, Robin leaned inwards until he regained his balance and wasn't teetering precariously on the brink.

To the side, Kid Robin had found his opportunity for attack and was now using a throw technique ideal for larger opponents (a move that Robin himself used all the time), seizing Red X by the arm and dumping him over the side of the vehicle. The kid warily approached the edge and peered over, searching for his opponent. "Huh, he said finally, and glanced aside to Robin, who was still trying to defend himself from Kid Flash's much-too-fast hits. "Guess X-Man did decide to ditch you after all." Kid Robin dusted his hands briskly and grinned at his teammate. "Hey, KF! I'm taller than you."

"Barely!" Kid Flash yelled back, ducking one of Robin's kicks. "Now, are you going to help me out, or what?"

"Yeah, I'm—" There was a crisp fluttering sound in the air, different from the rumbling of tires or the gusting of the wind. A sound that Robin recognized as the teleportation function of the Red X suit. Kid Robin's head whipped up toward the source of the strange noise, and he threw himself to the side just in time to avoid Red X's attack from above. X's foot drove into the metal surface of the trailer, leaving a dent where the kid had been standing a second earlier.

The evasive maneuver brought Kid Robin to land in a kneel in front of his older self, just after Robin managed to catch Kid Flash with a spinning kick and sent the speedster stumbling backwards to Red X. Partner switch.

Both Robins looked at each other in shock for a split second, worried the other was about to pull some trick, then backpedaled and took defensive stances. They watched each other cautiously, searching with well-trained eyes for a chance to strike, and waiting to see if the other would attack first.

Red X was throwing more 'X'-shaped throwing stars at Kid Flash, which the hero weaved through easily with his super-speed—as easily as he dodged X's swift punch that came once he got close enough for X to switch to hand-to-hand combat. What Kid Flash didn't dodge was the sticky 'X' that hit him smack in the face, expelled from his opponent's other hand.

Blindly, Kid Flash stumbled about and tried to yank the gummy xenothium off his eyes. Speed was useless when you couldn't see. "Rob, I could use some help here!"

"Kinda busy, KF!"

Robin had tackled his younger self and was trying to pin the kid down long enough to fasten some handcuffs on him and then disarm him, but he was squirming like a fish. It took all of Robin's effort just to keep him from slipping free. At some point Kid Robin had gotten ahold of a razor-sharp, red throwing disc and Robin had to grab his arm to stop the kid from slashing him with it. And of course Red X was making no move to help Robin. Instead he stood with his arms folded and watched the entire scene with amusement, his skull-like face rolling side-to-side from the disoriented speedster to the two wrestling Boy Wonders.

Out of the corner of his eye, Robin saw the blind Kid Flash about to stagger off the vehicle. He shot Red X a warning glare. The glare was returned with a 'whatever, fine' shrug, and X reached out and grabbed Kid Flash by the collar before he plummeted to probable doom.

This distraction was all Kid Robin needed to wriggle free, kneeing Robin in the chin as he did so. They were back to square one, both standing with their arms raised, ready to strike. This time, Kid Robin chose to strike first, and darted at Robin with his hand clenched in a fist.

Robin dodged his counterpart's punch just as the semi-truck they were using as a battleground began a wide turn. Kid Robin stumbled too close to the edge, unable to counteract both his own momentum and the tugging force from the truck rounding the curve.

Springing forward, Robin dropped to his knees and reached for the kid's scrabbling hand just as it lost purchase on the metal. The jarring pain in Robin's kneecaps didn't matter—all that mattered was that Robin had succeeded in grabbing the kid before he got seriously hurt.

Kid Robin swung his dangling legs forward to plant his feet against the side of the trailer, his grip sliding up from Robin's hand to his wrist. Robin was about to pull and help him back up, but it became clear that the younger boy had other plans when he looked up at Robin with a wicked grin and yanked down on Robin's wrist, throwing him clear off the vehicle.

That little—!

Robin landed with a desperate tuck-and-roll that took him down the side of the embankment; through dirt, dry tufts of grass, and cans and other bits of litter thrown from car windows.

The other Robin gracefully launched himself off the side of the trailer, executing showy, totally unnecessary, gravity-defying flips as he floated to the ground, slowly as a leaf.

I can do that, thought Robin pettily, as his younger self landed in front of him with an air of pride.

They observed each other for a few tense moments. The kid would open his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut again. He seemed nervous. "I don't get it," he said eventually, gaze locked on Robin. "All we're doing is trying to help you."

"I already told you: We don't need your help. You're just…"

"Just what?"

"Just getting in the way." Robin couldn't keep the bitter edge out of his voice. Because it was true. Red X would be crossed off the list right now, if only those kids hadn't shown up. The thief had slipped right through his fingers. "If we needed help—if we wanted the Justice League to do our job for us—we would have asked from the beginning. We're trying… We're trying really hard to not interfere with this world, okay?"

"Well, news flash: Your secret's out!" Kid Robin threw his arms up in the air, then let them fall. "I thought that maybe, now that we know, you'd…" He trailed off, and after a brief pause switched to a business-like tone. "Working with us will speed your mission up. You'll have more people fighting on your side, and more resources. And you could start being a little more creet, instead of wasting time hiding from us and sneaking around."

"Creet?" asked Robin, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. Was the vocabulary in this world different, too?

"Opposite of discreet. See, I figured if like is the opposite of dislike…"

"The opposite of discreet is indiscreet. There's a word for it already."

Something flashed across the kid's thin, young face—hurt and disappointment and dejection—so raw that it left Robin with a feeling like he'd just kicked a puppy. And then, within a second, the kid let out a sharp humpf of a breath that snuffed out the flicker of emotion on his face like it was a candle, and assumed a Bat-standard mask of stoicism that went perfectly with his domino one.

Kid Flash skidded to a stop at his friend's side, the skin around his eyes very red from tearing off the xenothium blindfold. "We taking down this loser?"

"You bet," his teammate confirmed.

"Looks like your pal bailed on you," Kid Flash told Robin.

There was a sudden shuddering noise, both mechanical and ghostly, and Kid Flash whirled around as Red X flickered into existence behind him, like his own shadow come to life. "Look again."

The two kids threw themselves at their opponents—Kid Flash at Red X and Kid Robin at his parallel self—only to be dispatched by twin roundhouse kicks that sent them flying backwards to collide in mid-air. Red X raised his palm…

"Another cape ruined by this gunk," lamented Kid Robin. The sidekicks were bound back-to-back by a sticky, constrictive 'X', with their arms pinned to their sides. They sat on the grass—Kid Flash was fidgeting as he tried, and failed, to stand—looking up at their captors with annoyance.

Already, Kid Robin's fingers were reaching into a pocket on his utility belt, navigating by sense of touch alone as he put up a front of nonchalance that did not fool Robin for a second. Robin bent down and easily undid the buckle, the clasp mechanism similar to his own. Kid Robin opened his mouth to speak, but before he could make more than a protesting squawk Robin chucked the belt away.

"Is this revenge for us tying you to a chair?" Kid Flash asked the older Robin. "In our defense, we had every reason to believe you were an evil clone."

Ignoring him, Robin turned to Red X and gestured at the distant utility belt – which Kid Robin was watching with fixation, as though he could will it back towards him with his gaze alone. "We should have enough time to get away while they try to walk over to it." Sawing through the gooey, rubbery xenothium was a difficult task, even with the sharpest tools, so they had plenty of time.

Kid Flash looked up at Robin, eyes twinkling confidently in the face of a challenge. "Why walk when you can run?"

"No, KF!" cried Kid Robin, too late.

Kid Flash tried dashing to the belt with his super-speed. Him, together with the other boy strapped to his back, made an oddly-proportioned bundle. Without the use of his arms to steady himself, he lost his balance and tripped almost immediately after he stood. The burst of speed sent the two sidekicks rolling out of control down the slope. Kid Robin tried to grab the belt as they passed, only managing to brush it with the tips of his fingers before he rushed away from it.

They were halted by a dark shoe. Red X had teleported in front of them, and now looked down at the dizzy heroes, shaking his head. "Cute," was his verdict.

"Don't do that again," Kid Robin warned the speedster, "or I might throw up. And I can't guarantee it won't end up on you."

Kid Flash's face was pressed against the ground. He turned his head, sputtering and spitting dirt. "You know, Rob, for a kid who still doesn't meet the height requirement for most rollercoasters, you're surprisingly heavy."

"It's all the bulletproof fabric. But also 'cause you're a weakling," Kid Robin teased good-naturedly.

"Aqualad's never going to let us partner up again after this. We weren't supposed to fight him."

"You threatened him first! And it wasn't even a good threat! I mean, 'we'll be forced to use force'? Come on!"

"Well, sooorry."

Robin watched this friendly squabbling with a lost expression. It didn't make sense. Those two seemed so close. He'd known Kid Flash by that age—they'd met once or twice when he worked with Batman, before the Titans formed—but not well. Not like this.

"Speaking of Aqualad…" Awkwardly, Kid Robin managed to stretch his neck enough sideways so he could reach a finger to the communicator nestled in his ear. "Robin here." He listened for a moment before responding. "Yeah, ours didn't go so well, either." Another pause. "No… a lot worse than that. You should swing by with the bio-ship, instead of waiting for us at the pick-up point. We're in a bit of a sticky situation."

"Hardy-har-har," drawled Kid Flash. "And my threats are bad?"

Kid Robin didn't answer, because he was still listening intently to whatever the communicator in his ear was saying. "Roger that," he told the electronic, signing off. He noticed Robin staring at him. "What?" he asked with irritation.

Robin tore his eyes away, but he couldn't unsee it. This was exactly what the Titans were trying to steer clear of—the what ifs. All those taunting, haunting whispers of what could have been, if things were just a little bit different…

He needed to get away from them as fast as possible. He turned to X, except… X wasn't there. Where did he…?

"Let me guess," said a voice behind Robin, dripping with smugness, that made him spin around in alarm. "This is the part where you say you're going to send me back… But, to do that, won't you need this?" X was holding a utility belt.

At first Robin was struck by the mad theory that it was the kid's belt, except he could see that it was still lying in the grass and he suddenly realized that the usual weight around his waist was gone. The buckle was on the front, how did X…? Then he saw—it hadn't been unbuckled, it was slashed off. X had snuck up behind him and cut right through it with one of those xenothium throwing stars. Robin snarled and grabbed at the belt, but Red X stepped back smoothly, and he was definitely grinning under that mask.

It was clear Red X was enjoying this immensely. He wagged a finger in Robin's direction. "Ah-ah! If you want it back—" The thief slung the belt jauntily over his shoulder, the bright yellow clashing with his black and grey costume. "—then follow me!" He took off down the slope, disappearing into the dark cluster of trees at the bottom.

Robin knew this game. Red X was trying to lure him into a trap, knowing Robin didn't stand much of a chance without any of his weapons. Robin wasn't stupid. Well, actually he felt pretty stupid at the moment for letting Red X get the best of him, but it wouldn't happen again! He would make sure of that. The joke was on Red X—Robin still had a utility belt at his disposal, even if it wasn't his.

"Emergency override two," said his younger self abruptly, as Robin picked up the kid's discarded utility belt.

Sparks shot out of the belt and Robin was forced to drop it, his palm burning in pain even through his glove. And he'd already told himself he wouldn't fall for that…that trick was so Batman it hurt. And did it ever hurt—his hand was spasming, the nerves jumping in agony. Angry, he picked the belt up again and, ignoring the pain, quickly hurled it as far away from the sidekicks as he could. It landed out of sight, sinking into the mud of the ditch at the base of the embankment.

"That was just mean," said Kid Flash. He and his teammate were trying to get to their feet. The problem was, with Kid Flash standing up straight, that left the shorter Kid Robin's legs dangling above the ground. Kid Flash managed one tentative, shaky step before he tipped backwards. Once he fell he couldn't get back up again, like a turtle stuck on its shell with its legs waving frantically in the air. Underneath him, a squashed Kid Robin was making angry, muffled complaints into the grass.

Robin turned on his heel and left the hopelessly uncoordinated sidekicks in the middle of another attempt to stand up. Briefly, Robin wondered why Kid Flash didn't vibrate his molecules and free himself, but figured it might harm the other boy stuck to him.

"So, where to next?" Kid Robin's words called after Robin as he ventured into the copse of trees. "Or are you done for today? See you tomorrow night, then?"

Where to next? thought Robin as he pushed through thick brambles and kept his eyes and ears on high alert, scanning the shadows for the thief who would blend in with them so well. Where to next? He was supposed to go after Slade next. That was the plan. But how—how?—could the Titans confront Slade, if that other Robin's team would show up? What if it was a trap, and those kids fell right into it? It would be a disaster. An absolute disaster. Robin would never, ever forgive himself if they—or any of the heroes of this world—got hurt.

None of these heroes knew how to deal with Slade, only Robin and the Titans stood a chance. They had past experience fighting him. They knew the most about him. Robin especially, because of the whole apprentice disaster. (And sometimes Robin doubted whether Slade had truly dropped that particular goal…)

Even more reason to keep those other heroes out of this: the other Robin. The kid could never, under any circumstances, meet Slade. Robin clenched his teeth as he brushed another tree branch away. He didn't even want to think about that.

He couldn't allow Slade to remain free in this world, but he couldn't go after Slade and stop him if those kids would tag along.

What was he supposed to do?

The rules were carved inside his skull from years of training and experience. Robin couldn't be at a loss for what to do, even in the most dire of situations. He was too well-trained, well-programmed, for that. The answer to that question always came to him automatically:

Prioritize. Make a list. One thing at a time.

He needed to deal with X. And then he needed to meet up with his team. And then he needed to figure something out with them, some way that they could convince those other teens to leave them be.

One thing at a time.

Robin emerged from the trees, blinking at the bright, moving lights of another highway. He found Red X leaning against the leg of a large billboard, swinging his utility belt in slow circles with one hand.

No mood. Robin was in no mood for this. "Give. It. Back. Now."

"You want this back?" Red X held up the belt and swayed it back and forth like a pendulum.

This idiotic question was met with a glare.

"Maybe we can help each other out, then," said Red X. "Turns out, I want something, too. So, we're going to make a deal. A real one, not like the backstabbing stunt you pulled earlier."

Robin grumbled poisonous things under his breath.

"Here's the thing: I don't intend to stay in this universe forever. I already told you it's just a little break. I do want to go back—but!—not yet. I've got some stuff to take care of. And don't you have better things to do than chase me around?" Robin's deep frown served as an answer for that question, which was arguably more idiotic than the earlier one. Red X kept talking. "Leave me for last. Catch all your nasty villains, but let me have my fun until you're done with your mission."

"You think I'll stand idly by and let you interfere with this universe?"

"Yes, I do," replied Red X. "Face it, as much as you don't like me, you know I'm nowhere near as bad as them. Selfish, remember? Not evil. Why waste your time stopping me from robbing a few safes when you should be stopping them from... Well, you can imagine. So, do we have a deal?"

Robin didn't respond. His silence seemed to be all Red X needed to hear. He couldn't help but agree with logic, but at the same time he could never admit that Red X was right, at least not out loud.

"If I let you go now," Robin said slowly, "then later you'll come without a fight?"

"Never said that. We gotta keep up appearances, after all."

"Why are you spending so much time in Gotham?" he asked. The question had been bugging him for days, and he couldn't let X go without asking it. "Because you get a kick out of annoying Robins?" he added bitterly.

"Yes, Boy Wonder. It's all about you. My sole purpose in life is to give you a hard time." Even with the voice-modulator, the sarcasm was crystal clear.

"You keep saying you're only here to have fun, but we both know that's a lie. Why go to all the effort of stealing if you won't be able to bring anything back with you to our world?"

"Maybe I'm a bit of a Robin myself. A bit of a Robin Hood."

"Don't make me laugh," Robin shot back. Because really, the idea of Red X actually doing good by giving to the poor like the hero of legend could only be more ridiculous if he started wearing green tights and a hat like the one Speedy used to have.

"Gave up on that a long time ago." Red X sighed, a sound like the hissing of car exhaust. "But, you're right. I'm just a low-life thief, aren't I? Only looking out for myself." X was using that tone again, the tone like he was hinting at something just to be pleased when it went right over Robin's head and left Robin reeling in frustration.

"I don't understand your motives here, X."

Red X gave his last words before tossing the utility belt at Robin's feet and teleporting away with a flicker. "Kid, when have you ever been able to understand my motives?"