A/N: Oh my God. I watched the Judas Contract recently and it was good, but when Terra was trying to get all lovie-dovey with Slade I vomited in my mouth a little. I was like he decades older than you and he's a fricking dad! He's Darren's dad! Gross! I mean yeah, I know that Darren doesn't exactly exist in the DC Universe and in the animated movie world I don't even know if Grant or Joseph exist but I was still like YUCK. That was just...ugh...bleck.

Anyways here's the next chapter. It's a little short but if I get some awesome reviews I'll post an extra chapter on Wednesday. Keep that in mind folks! ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

Chapter: 35

Darren jerked awake, his heart hammering in his chest as the remnants of a nightmare faded into nothingness of his mind. Even with no memory of the dream, he felt the fear it brought, the constriction in his chest that made him feel slightly sick. He felt a flash of anger in the mix as well. Why when he had felt so sure of himself and his own strength did he suddenly feel just as powerless and weak as before. How could he, after talking with Malik, still be feeling this way. He hated it, this feeling. That feeling, that tangled mess of emotions that he never had to face before, or really that he didn't want to deal with. He had enough on his plate and he never felt overwhelmed by this kind of thing before. Or have you? A voice whispered in the back of his mind. Darren growled and lurched from the bed.

Glancing at the clock he saw that it was just five o'clock. Everyone would still be asleep, just getting in from patrol a few hours before. He'd gotten two hours of sleep finally. But he felt anything but rested. Even so the knot in his chest wouldn't smooth over, he couldn't just lie down or he'd think and think and think about what that feeling meant, and what it was from and he did not want another nightmare to surface because of it. Darren glanced at the phone on his bedside table. Briefly wondering if it was worth it to call Jason…but decided against it. He'd be asleep and he'd be annoyed if Darren woke him. He instead crept silently from his room and down the stairs, careful not to make a sound…the others might be asleep but he didn't know about Alfred…and disappeared through the grandfather clock to the Cave below.

Maybe he technically wasn't allowed down here without supervision. But he needed a place to calm himself. He needed to do something, to move. Darren didn't like to sit idle when something bothered him. He needed something familiar. Darren chose a punching bag in the corner of one of the training rooms and without wrapping his hands—he never really did so since becoming a Talon, it wasn't like broke hands, torn knuckles and ligaments did anything to hinder his fighting anymore—started tearing away at the bag.

It felt good to let out some energy. To punch through his frustrations and to just move about. It felt like he was in control again, that what he felt was fading away. Like it usually did, like it used to. But something was tugging at his attention. Something was bothering him and he didn't know what it was. It lurked in the back of his subconscious waiting to creep out before he could stop it. Like he couldn't control everything he once could. Even so, at least he felt somewhat better now.

Darren didn't know how long he'd been down there. But he could see the split skin on his knuckles and knew he'd been down in the Cave for a long while. Still he wailed on the punching bag as it wobbled and moved across the room. Until the white layered foam in the inside blew out after every punch. He kept at it until his wrist rolled when he punched and a small cracking noise was heard. With a frustrated huff of air Darren wrenched the bone in his wrist back into place and moved to strike again when a voice from behind him caused him to pause,

"Darren? What are you doing down here?" It was Tim. Darren turned to face him, wringing out his hands as he did so,

"I—I couldn't sleep," he mumbled,

"How long have you been down here?"

"I dunno. What time is it?"

"Nine," he'd been down there for four hours. It felt like a blur,

"I've been down here a while then," was all he said,

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Darren snapped, starting to walk back to the main room of the Cave,

"Are you sure you're okay,"

"I'm fine Tim," Darren replied,

"You don't look fine," Darren grimaced and glanced at the computer screen to see a disheveled haired boy blink back at him. With extremely tired eyes,

"I just feel dizzy. That's all" he said finally, wavering slightly where he stood,
"When was the last time you ate?"

"Dinner," Darren replied. He felt that he should talk to Tim or someone about the nightmare, at least to ease the mess of nerves. But his mind was already slightly eased from the nightmare. And he didn't even know what it was about, or what was bothering so deeply that it overshadowed the nightmares about his own death. He ignored the desire to talk about it and instead focused on Tim, who looked slightly appalled he hadn't come up to eat yet,

"Darren. That was almost fourteen hours ago. And you just worked out…you need to eat!" Tim exclaimed,
"Yeah…I figured that was the problem," Darren replied, starting forward unsteadily as he and Tim hurried upstairs for breakfast.

Since Alfred was cooking for Thanksgiving dinner, Darren, in an effort to stay out of his hair stumbled over to the couch and curled up on it after eating. Willing himself to sleep. He needed it, whether or not he wanted to sleep.

A/N: I think this is the shortest chapter in this story. Probably because it just popped up out of nowhere. But it's a chapter nonetheless. Hope you liked it and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEWWWW!

Next chapter either on Wednesday or Friday. It's up to you!