Warning: I can't remember if there are any swear words or not. Anyway, there will be violence and excitement below . . .


4:06 a.m., Harbor Drive.

The explosion lit up the sky. Batman was certain that he would have felt the vehicle shudder had he and Miss Martian been in anything other than the Batmobile. He executed a tight U-turn, and headed the other direction.

There was no question that Robin was somehow tied to that explosion. The boy was further south than he had expected him to be. At first he had thought that there was no specific plan in the boy's head when he had fled, but now it was obvious that what had started out as aimless now has a definite purpose and goal. Robin was heading back toward the warehouse.

Neither had he expected the direct route that Robin was apparently taking. Batman had thought he would have chosen a more indirect path in order to avoid detection. The explosion put paid to that idea. It had come from River Road. Although, Robin might have run into another group of toughs, he thought it more likely that the boy had run into Aqualad. He pushed back the worry over the explosion with the same force he pressed on the gas pedal. He sped back the way he came

"You think that came from Robin," M'gann said softly. "That he caused it."

"I think it likely," Batman remarked.

"I hope no one is hurt," she said, leaning forward against the tug of the seat belt. The Martian closed her eyes, stretching out a hand to see if she could feel the participants involved. She glanced nervously at Batman. "I can't sense anyone. I-I mean, I can feel the confusion and fright of the neighborhood's residents, but not Robin."

Batman tapped down on his fear ruthlessly. He would do the boy no good if he allowed himself to panic. The fact that he needed to remind himself of this was just another clue that he was two steps from losing it.

"Can you sense Aqualad," he asked.

M'gann looked startled, and then she shook her head. "No. I can't sense either one . . . No, wait!" She frowned. "I can sense . . . I think its Robin. He's confused, hurt, and frightened . . . And paranoid. Yes, the paranoia is reasserting itself strongly. I think he must have been knocked unconscious by the explosion, and he is just waking up now."

"Can you tell how hurt he is?"

"No, I can't tell what injuries he might have, only his level of pain," she looked apologetic.

"And what level is that," Batman asked as he slowed the car to make the turn onto River Road.

"It's strong but not debilitating. He's able to compartmentalize it?" M'gann asked, surprised.

"Yes. It's a very good ability to hone in this line of work." Batman turned onto River Road and could actually see the blazing car in the distance, maybe four city blocks in front of them.

They were half that distance when a familiar figure swung across the road in front of them. Batman slammed on the brake and pulled the Batmobile into the nearest alley.

"Miss, Martian, head towards the explosion, and see if you can locate Aqualad. If he is hurt, you will need to get him to Leslie's. Pull the location of her clinic from my mind. I'm going after Robin." He pulled out his grapple gun and fired. The next second he was gone.


4:13 a.m., River Road

M'gann flew the last couple of blocks to the carnage. Windows were shattered and smoke was filling the air as the fire blazed hot. She set down on the sidewalk, careful to keep the other parked cars between her and the fire. The explosion had been so powerful that even some of the cars had been moved out of place.

Sirens sounded in the distance as emergency personnel rushed to the neighborhood's aid. It was distracting. Her mind continued searching for Kaldur's even as she searched visually. She felt him, finally, almost at the same moment she saw him lying on the sidewalk. He was holding his head and attempting to push himself up.

"Aqualad," she cried, running to his side.

M'gann was shocked by the amount of blood she saw. It was everywhere, staining most of his white blond hair a deep, blood red. When he looked up at her, she saw that the lower half of his face was also bloody and his nose deformed.

"Oh, Kaldur," she moaned in sympathy. "What happened? Did Robin do this," she asked incredulously.

M'gann helped him into a sitting position against the wall. He wiped futilely at the blood on his face. More started dripping from the wound on the top of his head.

"I have a suspicion that Robin has been holding back during sparring practice," he said, dryly. "I am thankful, however, that neither Batman nor my king was here to see this. I believe it is safe to say that the boy handed me . . . What was the term? Oh, yes! Robin handed me my ass this night. I will not be underestimating him again."

"Sirens are approaching," M'gann told him. "We need to go now. Can you stand?"

Kaldur stood, but not without help. He swayed heavily and looked like he was about to pass out. He balanced himself with a hand on the wall and one on M'gann's shoulder. He glanced around him.

"Where is Robin? Was he harmed in the explosion?" Kaldur's gaze fell on that of the burning vehicle. He turned around slowly and then noticed the car with the broken windshield and dented trunk. "There!"

M'gann helped him over to the damaged car. "If he was injured, it wasn't enough to keep him down. We saw him using his grapple line to leave the scene. Batman went after him while I came to find you."

Gazing down at the blood staining the shattered glass and the back seat of the car, Kaldur frowned. "Well, he did not escape completely unscathed. He has obviously sustained numerous injuries over the course of the night. He was limping, and I could see bruising on his forehead and jawline, and again under both of his eyes. The bruising under his eye and dried blood on his upper lip and chin suggests that he had broken his nose tonight as well," Kaldur said, sniffling. He spit blood onto the sidewalk, and then apologized for the rudeness. "But those were only the most obvious injuries."

The flashing lights of several police vehicles were pulling up followed by a firetruck. It was time to leave. They didn't have time to spend answering questions from the police. M'gann tugged on Kaldur's arm.

As they turned, Kaldur's eyes rolled up in his head, and he began to slump to the ground, threatening to take M'gann's slighter form with him. With a thought from the Martian girl, both heroes floated up into the air. Kaldur obviously wasn't well, for all that he had regained consciousness for a few minutes before collapsing.

The path to Leslie's clinic was mapped out in her head, the information she had gleaned from Batman before they had separated. She would take Kaldur there and then return quickly to the warehouse where she hoped that Batman will have captured and brought Robin. She was very aware of their time limit. For all the damage that the team had taken from their youngest member, it would be nothing compared to the death he was about to face head on if she wasn't there in time to save him.


4:13 a.m., Harbor Drive

Robin was heading toward the wharf. He was heading back to the warehouse, Batman suspected, to reach Scarecrow. He followed as close as he dared, worried of what the boy might do if he saw him. Miss Martian had contacted him to tell him the she was taking Aqualad to Leslie's. He had been injured badly.

Another teammate fallen to the rage brought on by Scarecrow's hallucinations. He dreaded the moment when Robin would realize what he had done. He knew the boy would blame himself, it wouldn't matter that he had been in the midst of a terrible hallucination at the time. Artemis had been able to talk briefly when he had brought in Kid Flash. She had told him that Robin had thought she was dead and her body taken over by a demon; that he had thought Batman was dead as well. Miss Martian had confirmed that Aqualad had a similar tale to tell.

They were nearing the entrance to the wharf when Robin suddenly seemed to fall to the sidewalk; he rolled and came up on his feet, darting into an alleyway. Batman frowned. Did he mean to do that or did he just fall? He knew the boy was hurt, but how bad? Why go into the alley unless it was to tend an injury?

He moved to follow. Perhaps now he could catch up to the boy. Batman had several injectable antidotes for Scarecrow's fear gas, in case any of the team had been dosed during their raid. He would give Robin the antidote and see if that helped.


Robin could hear the fluttering of wings behind him. They were almost always there now. He glanced back and nearly lost his grip. The demon that had taken over Batman's body was closing in on him. He had had no time to recover from the exertion of the fight with Aqualad's doppelganger or from being slammed into the car after that explosion. There was no way he could win against a fight with the Batman demon.

Not a one on one straight fight that is. The only chance he had would be to make it fast. The longer the fight went on, the easier it would be for the demon to win; the greater the chances that Robin would be seriously injured. If that happened, the Scarecrow would have won . . . And Robin would rather die than let Scarecrow win.

Even at peak condition, Robin knew winning against this particular opponent would be a pipe dream. So, he would have to fight smarter; use the element of surprise and be ruthless. He swung down to the nearest alleyway. His leg didn't want to support him, so he tumbled and came to his feet. Biting his lip, he pushed himself and ran into the shadows. From there he shot his grappling hook toward the roof and let it pull him upward at top speed; flipping over the edge and coming down into a crouch. He ran toward the front of the building.

The Bat demon was almost beneath him. Robin set his line and waited for him to pass. He swung out behind him just as he passed beneath him, giving himself a lot of slack and using gravity to increase his speed. The demon slowed as he came to the alley where Robin had disappeared, and that is when Robin hit him . . . Hard, in between its shoulder blades with both heels.

It worked. The surprise, the speed, and the power behind the hit were enough to make him fall. Robin released his line and rode the demon's back to the ground. His weight helped to knock the wind out of the demon when it hit the pavement. Robin flew forward; flipping and twisting in midair to come down on his feet facing the beast.

His hands were already reaching in his belt. He only had one of these, so he had to make it count. He tossed the flash/bang grenade between them and covered his ears and turned his head away with his eyes squeezed shut. Still the percussion was enough to knock him to his knees, and make his ears ring. How much more so would the damage be to the unprepared demon?

Robin swung about. Despite being blinded and disoriented, the demon was trying to climb to its feet. Robin attacked with a spinning roundhouse kick to the head, knocking the demon back to its knees. Pressing his advantage as quickly as he could, Robin followed up with an axe kick into the back of its neck, but before his heel connected, the demon's hand caught his leg and threw a punch to his solar plexus; knocking the his breath out of him.

As he doubled over; an arm wrapped around him, dragging Robin to him. The boy was held, his back to the demon's chest, his arms pinned to his sides. He felt its breath against his ear followed by a sharp pinprick against the side of his neck. Robin jerked, afraid it was a crow come to eat his face.

"Robin, stop," it commanded in Batman's voice.

Tears sprang to the boy's eyes. Pain seared his chest. He arched his back and screamed as he struggled for freedom.

"Robin . . . Dick! Dick, it's me," Bruce's voice spoke to him now. "You can stop now. You're safe."

But the soft words in the voice of the most important person in the world to him did not have the effect that it was meant to have.

Robin collapsed in his arms, sobbing. "You killed him," he cried. "You killed him!"

"Sh, no, no, no one's dead," Bruce's voice crooned. "It's over with. It's finished."

He shuddered. It wasn't over; not by a long shot. He was alone again! And he couldn't take it; having his family ripped from him yet another time. He couldn't do this. Bruce was dead, and the bastard that killed him was right behind him! He wouldn't get away with it. Robin would see him back to hell first.

Throwing his head back into the demon's face, he was rewarded with a grunt of pain. The arms loosened just a fraction, but it was enough. Robin turned in his arms; yanking out four exploding birdarangs, the last he had, and activated them. Each one was non-lethal, but a combination of four should be enough to send the demon home in a baggie.

Suddenly the demon stiffened, obviously having seen what he had planned. Robin clung to the explosives. If it meant ending Bruce's murderer, he would gladly pay the price to see it done.

"Robin, no!"

The demon pushed the boy back, and ripped the birdarangs from his hands; throwing them into the street. He threw Robin down and tried to cover him with his body, but the boy growled as he struck the imposter in the face. He scrambled out from under the demon, and stood up to run.


4:28 a.m., Harbor Drive

The explosions went off so close together as to be simultaneous; the strength of which knocked Batman off of his hands and knees and tumbled him into the wall. Batman was up on his feet instantly, shaking his head to clear it.

"Robin," he yelled.

The boy had been blown off of his feet, and being so light had been slammed into the wall with considerably more force. He was lying prone, his back cut before was bruised now as well.

Batman rolled him over gently. Robin was unconscious. Batman yanked off his glove to check his pulse. He found the pulse instantly, but instead of being reassured, it frightened him. Robin's heart rate was fast; too fast. Dangerously fast.

What time was it? It was only four-thirty! He had a little less than an hour and a half according to the apparition. Did he trust it? Should he trust it? He didn't know for sure. But what he was certain of was that he needed to get Robin to Leslie's as soon as possible. And for that he needed the Batmobile.

He activated the vehicle by remote. They hadn't gone far. It should only take a few minutes before he could have his son strapped snugly into the passenger seat. He had been startled at how chilled the boy's skin felt despite the August humidity. He shouldn't be surprised that Robin was suffering from shock. He would turn on the heater in the car to warm him, he determined, tugging on his glove.

As the Batmobile rounded the corner, Batman picked Robin up carefully. Even so, and despite his unconsciousness, the boy moaned in pain. He had only just finished hooking the harness that would hold Robin safely in place when his comlink chirped.

"Batman," he barked, impatient. "Go."

Superboy's voice spoke into his ear. "More of Scarecrow's men have arrived, I assume, looking for him. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem but there are a lot of them. I'm not sure I can keep Scarecrow secure while taking them down."

"You were right to contact me," Batman said. He leaned across Robin to turn on the heat. "I'll be there in two minutes."

As he disconnected, he cursed. This could take more time than he was willing to give it, but he couldn't risk Crane escaping. He tapped the comlink once more.

"Batman to Miss Martian."

"Miss Martian here," M'gann answered immediately.

"Have you delivered Aqualad yet? I need you at the warehouse now."

"Yes. Leslie said he will be okay once she straightens his nose. He has a concussion as well, and is in and out of consciousness." M'gann told him. "I can be there in ten minutes."

"Good," he murmured. "More of Scarecrow's men have arrived to attempt to rescue him. Superboy said there were too many for him to handle and keep Scarecrow secured. Although I would prefer to take Robin straight to Leslie's, I need to stay here and help. Meet me at the warehouse with the Bioship. If nothing else, you can take Robin and Scarecrow to Leslie's clinic until we finish up here."

"Right," she said. "How's Robin?"

"Unconscious at the moment," Batman said before cutting the link.

He pressed on the gas and with the squeal of burning rubber, the Batmobile shot off for the warehouse.


REACTIONS?

This chapter gave me all kinds of trouble. This is the fifth version and I basically patched it together with the bits and pieces that I liked from the first four, and linked them up. In my defense, I've had a cold all week, and the medicine made my head feel twice as big. Unfortunately, it did nothing to improve my writing. And while I definitely have favorite chapters and not so favorite ones, I refuse to post trash or drivel. I'm hoping that when you read this, that you'll agree that this was worth posting.

Please let me know what you think. I enjoy hearing from you! It lets me know if my writing is boring or not.