Hello to the Night Chapter Seven, a teen titans fanfic

Hello to the Night

Chapter Seven

October 20, 12:32 PM

Raven groaned as she sat up in her bed. She wasn't sure eight hours of sleep would be enough.

Robin's face stared down at her.

Her mirror shattered.

"Rise and shine. We have a lot of work to do today." With that, he turned and left.

She put her knees over the edge of the bed and pushed herself to her feet. Raven staggered slowly to the bathroom to rinse away the greasy feeling of un-showered body and brush away the morning breath.

The Titans had assembled in the living room, and judging from the sounds she heard coming from Beast Boy's stomach, the others hadn't had breakfast yet either.

"We survived last night," Robin informed them. "We just have to take it one night at a time, until we find a way to break the curse."

"The city must be in turmoil… the Masquerade had many members last night." The Masquerade had bothered Starfire, too. She seemed unusually somber.

Cyborg agreed. "There are at least twenty people 'missing'; probably closer to thirty or forty. But the police won't acknowledge them as missing until tomorrow night."

"You know what I didn't see before we shut down the windows?" Beast Boy yawned. "I didn't see any kids in that group."

"So either the city's children believed…" Tim entered the room. "…Or the Masquerade can't affect them."

"I'd put my bet on the last option," the Boy Wonder told them. "The Masquerade was a punishment against the teenagers, and against the city's adults, who let them dance."

"Has anybody considered the fact that this curse started in 1619?" The half-robot asked. "Exploration of the west didn't start until after the Louisiana Purchase."

"Jump City didn't start as an American village." As usual, the Boy Wonder knew the answer. "It was a Spanish mission or something, begun in 1588. But by 1605, it had turned into a town."

"Uh, this city doesn't have any Spanish architecture. And it doesn't have a Spanish name. And the Masquerade… isn't a Spanish word."

Robin shrugged. "That's all I know."

"The Spanish architecture was all in a section of town destroyed in an earthquake fifty years ago," Tim told them. "And Masquerade is a word that Spanish borrows— El Masquerade. Jump City's Spanish name was Villa De La Muerta. Kind of obvious why they'd change it, huh?"

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "How do you know all this?"

"I did a lot of research on this place when I was younger. I was very interested in curses."

Just like the research you did on Robin? Raven wondered.

12:34 PM

Emma's stomach grumbled and she rubbed at her eyes again. Her fingers did nothing to remove the tracks of tears down her face.

"Daddy?" She called, weakly. "Daddy? You said you'd come home soon! Isn't that Broadway Macabre thingy done yet?"

The empty house did not answer.

She opened a can of Spaghetti-O's, dumped the contents into a bowl, and put it in the microwave for a whole minute. After the beeping sounds, she opened the microwave, took out the bowl, and grabbed a spoon. She stirred the Spaghetti-O's to cool them down.

After she finished the bowl, she started to cry for the third time that day. "Daddy? Daddy?"

"Daddy!" She began to yell. "DADDY! DAAAAAADDDYYYYYY!"

But Daddy didn't answer, and she'd long ago given up on getting Mommy to wake up.

"You said we had a lot to do today," Raven began. "I doubt it involves standing around talking. So let's cut to the chase."

Robin nodded his head. "We have to search the houses for the children of the 'missing' people… we'll have to find them by figuring out who didn't show up for school or daycare… and then get their addresses."

"That's gonna take FOREVER!" Beast Boy cried. "There must be fifty daycares in this town!"

Robin turned to face him, a grim, determined set to his jaw. "Then we'd better get started right now."

12:36 PM

Emma crawled over to the telephone and dialed 911.

"Hello?" She whispered to the lady who answered.

"What is your emergency?"

"Daddy left last night… and Mommy won't wake up… and Daddy hasn't come back…" Emma began to cry. "And Phillip won't stop crying 'cause I don't know how to feed him…"

"What is your address?"

"I don't know… we live right across from the McDonald's on Titania Avenue…"

12:37 PM

"Hello, this is the Jump to Titania Daycare Center," a cheerful female voice blared from the speaker.

"Um," Beast Boy consulted the ideas Robin had given him on what to say. "This is Beast Boy of the Teen Titans, and I'm looking for the names and addresses of children or infants who have not shown up today."

"Are you really with the Teen Titans?" The voice inquired. "Because even if you are, I'm not sure I can give you those."

"I really am… please don't make us hack your records. The JLA would KILL us."

The woman on the other end of the phone sighed. "Well, let's see… of the families in the Titania Avenue area…"

Beside him, Starfire inquired over another telephone, "Yes, this is Starfire of the Teen Titans speaking. I request a list of your children and infants who are absent."

October 20, 12:40 PM

Raven absently wondered if she had died and gone to hell. Entering a daycare to find one of her fans (read, "worshippers") in charge of signing the kids in wasn't quite the lowest item on her 'List of Things I Do Not Ever Wish To Encounter,' but it was down there with walking in on her followers making a human sacrifice.

Or it would have been down there if it had ever occurred to her that such an event was possible.

WHAT kind of daycare hired a member of the Church of Raven (she repressed a shudder at the thought that she had a church)?

The worshipper, of the name Kimberly Blake, smiled widely. "Here's a list of names, ages, and addresses. The ones with stars by them are on vacation."

Her eyes scanned down the list. She decided to head to the address of the first infant she found.

Infants, after all, took priority.

12:45 PM

Robin sighed. "No, I am not just dressing up like Robin. I am Robin, and I really need to see that list."

The fangirl's eyes went wide as saucers. "WILL YOU SIGN MY SHIRT?"

Time to play dirty. His eyes narrowed. "Not unless I get that list."

The daycare worker considered. She could give Robin (THE Robin) illegal information and he would sign her shirt, or she could uphold the law, and have to tell all her friends that she'd said no. And they'd never believe her if he didn't sign something of hers.

"Okay!" The fangirl said. "Give me a minute!" She hit a few keystrokes and printed out a list. "Sorted by age, then name, then address."

"Thank you very much," he said, turning to go.

"Ahem? Forgetting something?" She handed him a Sharpie and turned around.

"What's your name?"

"Beth."

He sighed, uncapped the Sharpie, and wrote, Life is not a witty statement. So you don't get one. Thanks, Beth. —ROBIN.

With that, he left.

Cyborg patiently explained to the daycare lady that YES, HE REALLY WAS CYBORG, and NO, HE WAS NOT HERE TO ARREST HER FOR DEALING DRUGS, HE WAS JUST HERE TO COLLECT A LIST OF NAMES, AGES, AND ADDRESSES OF CHILDREN WHO HAD NOT SHOWN UP.

The daycare lady, instead of giving him any crap about that information being protected, printed out a list.

1:00 PM

"Uh, Robin?" Beast Boy inquired over the T-Communicator.

"Yes?" Robin asked.

"Have you given any thought to what we're going to do with these kids?"

"They'll have to stay with us for a while," the teen admitted. "It's not like we have a choice, is it? There isn't an orphanage that will accept them on only our word."

"Yeah, but what about the infants? Some of the babies are probably being breast fed and waking up every three hours at night…"

"There are supplements for that, I think. And we'll need to be awake all night anyway."

"Okay, let's say there are forty kids with 'missing' parents. Let's say thirty of those are kids who can sort-of take care of themselves, and ten of them are babies. WE STILL HAVE A PROBLEM!"

"I'm not seeing it."

Beast Boy gave a frustrated sigh. "Ten babies. Five of us. Babies are complex, fragile, ANNOYING things. I would know. I've been around babies before."

The picture on the tiny screen jerked around for a moment, and soon, it was Tim's face looking up/down at him. "Look, there's another option, and I'm not sure why it hasn't occurred to you. But you can call the cops from the kids' houses, right? If they haven't shown up at school or daycare, then one or both of their parents are 'missing' or dead. The police will pay attention to that."

It must have been the long period of sleep deprivation. It was the only explanation for why Robin hadn't thought of it. "Good plan. Tim, I need to talk to BB, give the T-Communicator back to him, okay?"

Beast Boy's face returned. "Yeah?"

"1. Change in plans. Alert the Titans in the city that instead of trying to transport the kids to the Tower, they need to call the police. 2. Do you have a list for me yet?"

"1 isn't a problem." Beast Boy told him. "And yeah, I have a list. You're near Jump to Titania, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, well at 212 Titania Avenue, Emma and Phillip Saxon didn't show up. Emma is five and Phillip is a year old. Then, at 216, there's a set of two-year-old triplets. In 217, there's just the four-year-old Tidus. That's it for now."

"Thanks, Beast Boy."

Raven knocked quietly on the door of the house.

A little boy answered the door. "Who are you?"

"I'm Raven from the Teen Titans." She offered the boy a smile. "Where are your Mommy and Daddy, Blake? Where is your baby brother?"

"Mommy and Daddy are still in bed… and Tony is in his crib. How come?"

"I was worried. Your daycare teacher told me that you and your baby brother didn't come to daycare today. She's worried too."

"I thought Mommy and Daddy were going to take us somewhere special today, but they won't wake up. I really wish they'd wake up."

She sighed. "Why don't I come inside and see if I can make your Mommy and Daddy wake up?"

Blake nodded and led her inside.

Robin turned the corner to the home of Emma and Phillip Saxon and stared. Police cars were everywhere.

"What's going on?" Robin inquired of the nearest police officer.

"We've got a homicide in every fucking one of these houses. It started with a call from Emma Saxon. We were doing door-to-door to see if anybody noticed anything when we realized that the only LIVING people on this street are kids."

"Crazy," Robin said. Well, this street was under control. The kids would be placed in orphanages or foster homes. Orphanages might suck, but they were better for the kids than Titan Tower.

Raven felt her throat close in disgust. Blake's parents were under the sheets in a position that said they'd died so soon after a romp through the sack that they hadn't even had time to reposition themselves.

It was gross on way, way too many levels, and somehow, Raven felt that she was intruding on something.

The mausoleum of the happy couple…

"Okay, Blake… I can't take you to Titan Tower with me, but I'm going to go call the police."

"How come?"

"Because your Mommy and Daddy aren't breathing. Do you have an older brother or sister?"

"I have a older brother. He's sixteen."

"Where is he?"

Blake shrugged. "He's not in his room."

Raven had a feeling that she knew where he was.

1:10 PM

Robin found the house's door unlocked, and quietly opened it.

From some distant reach of the house came a howling noise, like a very loud sob.

He found a white baby monitor on the foyer table and began to flick the switch from send to receive.

It was then that he noticed the body on the couch. Blonde, slim, a longhaired, long-legged woman.

Probably the matriarch.

The howling noise persisted. Reluctant to interfere with a crime scene, he abandoned the baby monitor and went up the stairs. He followed the sobs until he came upon a baby's nursery.

Within the nursery, a baby girl (from the sheer abundance of pink and lace in the room) lay in her crib, squalling.

Obviously, no one had fed her for at least eight hours, and judging from the smell, no one had changed her either.

Not messing with a crime scene was one thing. But letting a baby sit in its own filth was quite another.

The problem, he realized, was that he didn't know the first thing about babies. Caring for an infant did not appear in the training roster, when Batman took him in.

Well, they couldn't support their necks, could they? So he'd have to be careful of that. And changing a diaper couldn't be all THAT hard, right? Figure out which side is which, then play point and click with the tabs?

I really should have paid attention in home economics, back when he made me go to school…

The baby continued to squall, and he thought of the dead woman sleeping on the sofa, and the apparently absent father.

The T-Communicator flipped open. He pressed a button and got the typical answer to the 911 call.

"Robin in. I was checking a house, and found a corpse in the living room. Female, in her thirties, wearing a wedding ring. No sign of the husband. Blood in the bedroom, bloody footprints leading to the door. The wife appears to have suffocated."

"What is your address?"

He rattled off the house number and street, then said. "There is only one survivor, an infant of indeterminate age."

TitanTower, 1:12 PM

Tim Drake stared at the monitor in front of him. If he couldn't help the Titans in finding of lists of the children of the Masqueraders, he could help them break the curse.

So he headed to and searched it for "the Masquerade". Doubtless, SOMETHING about the curse had made it there.

His eyes followed the lines of text in the blinking light of the monitor, but he assimilated no new information.

October 21, 1:35 AM

The Masquerade danced and sang, leaping in the light of the torches. The sea could become smooth as glass beneath their feet, but now they merely danced across fences. Sometimes their feet slipped and they cut themselves. Once, a Masquerader impaled his foot on one of the fence posts, but he merely lifted his foot off and laughed, singing about the look of the fencepost protruding through his foot.

The scene looked like something from footage of Mardi Gras in New Orleans… but with dead people, dancing and impaling themselves on fence posts. Instead of Mardi Gras beads and various beverages, the Masqueraders wore strings of whatever they could find, and carried body parts.

Dead flesh leapt and spun; hollow, strange laughs rang out. Flies hovered like a black cloud, and the various burning pieces of wood often danced through the air and then fell to the road. Rotting fingers picked the wood up by the burning ends, rotting mouths laughed at the image of their fingers burning and blackening.

One of the corpses beat down a door, singing, "This house was my house, it was my flesh's house, house of promise, house oh live house…"

The Masquerade ransacked the kitchen, heaving things from the refrigerator, scattering dishes, throwing pots and pans on the floor.

In the house, no one lived to notice, except for a little girl curled up in the living room, sobbing silently.

One of the Masqueraders wandered into the living room, humming some nameless tune.

The little girl sobbed only harder at the feeling of cold, cold fingers on her chin, making her look up. But she kept her eyes closed, softly mumbling, "P-p-please, Je-Jesus, I'll b-be g-g-g-go-hood. I'll-I'll eat b-b-beans," her voice went sharp on the word 'beans', "and I'll s-s-stop m-m-making fun of F-Father G-G-Grissom, if PLEASE, JESUS, Y-You w-will m-m-m-make th-th-them g-go awa-ay. J-Just m-m-m-make th-th-them g-go away, Jesus! Please!"

Tears leaked out through her closed eyes, and only fell harder when the Masquerader began to mimic her words, singing them.

October 21, 8:01 AM

Robin stared blearily at the television. The newscaster looked as exhausted as he felt— even make-up and hernia cream couldn't hide the bags under her eyes.

"The police are puzzled by a string of murders. Within the last two days, well over fifty people have died or disappeared, many of them married. There are so many sudden orphans that the District of Children's Services isn't sure what to do with them all."

He turned the TV off. "Slade is behind this. We know that for a fact." He nodded towards Tim, then continued. "What we don't know, is what Slade wants."

"But doesn't Slade want you to be his apprentice?" Beast Boy asked.

"It's a good guess, seeing as how that's what he has seemed to want in the past, but I don't see how gradually turning the entire city into zombies is going to help that goal. He has no guarantee that we'll last very long…"

"Maybe it's some sort of way of proving your worth?" Tim offered. "If you can last for a certain amount of time, he knows you're worthy of his power?"

"In order to know what he hopes to gain by this action, we have to know what Slade's ultimate goal is." Raven told them in her calm, dry voice. She looked up, her violet eyes piercing, startlingly clear. "Where does he want to be, twenty years from now?"

"She's got a point," Tim said, but Robin caught the slight tremor in Tim's voice when he said 'she'. Apparently, Tim hadn't fully gotten over the experience of a lamp exploding on him.

Robin shrugged inwardly. Getting used to Raven took time… more time than Tim would hopefully be with them.

"But how are we supposed to know where Slade wants to be in twenty years?" Beast Boy flailed his arms. "He's not exactly on our Christmas card list!"

"Eventually," the Boy Wonder sighed, "Slade will tell us his demands. For now, we just have to keep the city intact until we can figure out what he wants and how to end the Masquerade."

"Robin?" Starfire's vivid green eyes had drooping bags under them, and the spots on her forehead had turned a strange color. "How are we to insure that the city remains intact, when we must fear for our own lives and sanity?"

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Cyborg agreed. "How can we keep the city safe and sane when we aren't sure how much longer we're going to be sane?"

"We can't do it alone." Robin admitted. "We'll have to call in the JLA… Tim! What information do you have on breaking the curse?"

Tim shook his head regretfully. "Nothing. It's not on Snopes, or any of the other urban legend sites… Nothing in English, anyway. It's all in Spanish, which wouldn't be a problem, but it's all heavily, heavily influenced by Arabic."

"What do you mean?" Robin felt his brows furrow.

"I mean that the spellings of all the words are really, really weird. They're phonetic… from an Arabic accent. So some letter combinations have been switched. I got about as far as 'to write about the Masquerade in "sane" handwriting is to bring it back,' and then my head nearly exploded." He gave a frustrated sigh. "I can translate it if one of you could read it aloud to me."

"Raven, Tim— you work on that." Robin commanded. "Starfire, Beast Boy and Cyborg: alert the police of the newest families affected by the Masquerade. I'll get the JLA down here."

Starfire, Beast Boy and Cyborg nodded, then went to make calls while Raven and Tim headed to the computer room.

Robin turned to the big screen. "Contact the Mayor's office." The screen flashed a few times, and then the Mayor's face filled the screen.

"Yes, Titans?"

"Mayor, are you aware of the situation in your city?" Robin asked.

"Of course I am! People are dying and disappearing, there are riots at midnight…"

"Sir, I believe that a four hundred year old curse has been called back into being."

"Are you talking about El Masquerade?" The Mayor laughed. "That's a child's story! Why you shouldn't pervert church grounds!"

Robin walked over to a keyboard and entered a command string. He watched the Mayor's face turn pale.

"You were saying, Mayor? That is footage from early this morning. One of our security measures cut one of those people off at the waist. And yet the person seems completely oblivious, doesn't he?" Another command string and the Mayor turned slightly green. "Hm, they don't seem to notice that they're setting themselves and each other on fire. And, oddly, our security system could find no pulses— or signs of robotics. Those are dancing corpses."

Tim surfaced with a notebook just as the Mayor asked, "What do you want Robin?"

Robin saw Tim's eyes narrow briefly.

"I want to call in the JLA. A Mayor as concerned about his city as you shouldn't have any problems with that, right?"

"I've got enough vigilante freaks in this city. I don't need more," the Mayor hissed. The connection closed.

"He's in on it," Tim's voice was cold, certain. "Slade wants something only the Mayor can give him."

"Yeah, he's in on it," Robin agreed. "The question is, what can the Mayor give him?"

"The possibilities are almost endless." Tim scratched his chin, then offered the notebook. "That's the first page of the translation, and there's a lot left to work on."

Robin nodded. "Keep it for now, finish the translation."

"Sure."

8:25 AM

Tim stared at Raven, slightly unnerved by how quiet she was. It seemed strange to him, that a person this calm had such a restless, wild power. Of course, maybe her serenity let her control her power.

But it still seemed strange.

She read a line of text aloud, and he pieced it together, then translated it.

He looked down at the beginning of the second page. "Don't you think it's weird, that all the information about this is in Spanish?"

Raven shrugged. "It does seem a little odd, but superstition can lead people to do the strangest things."

He had a feeling she had direct experience with that.

He deliberately moved a little farther from her, just a little, to test a theory.

Her eyes sharpened on him. In fact, those calm, violet eyes never left him.

Just as he thought.

October 22, 12:00 AM

Raven watched Tim Drake closely. His refusal to work actively for Slade made him no less dangerous. He knew Robin's secret, all of it— even the parts she didn't know. Sure, she knew Robin's general history, but Robin knew her general history. They were on even terms.

Drake knew Robin's name, while Robin knew almost nothing about Drake.

"The Mayor is in on it," Tim said as they settled into the living room to wait for the Masquerade. "Slade got to the Mayor."

"I don't understand… the Mayor just condemned at least ten people to die each night, until we break the curse," Robin sighed. "How could any elected official be so stupid?"

"He's selfish." Raven told him. "If he thinks only of himself, condemning others to die is easy. The citizens never even cross his mind."

"What if he thinks he's going to break the curse?" Tim asked. "If he broke the curse, and you guys didn't… how would that look, huh? He'd be the hero. He could point at you guys and say 'where were the Teen Titans' and people would listen."

Well, Raven thought. At least he's clever. He may know much, much more than he should, but at least he'll know how to use his knowledge.

Her eyes rested on him again, and she wondered just why he was in Jump City, claiming that he'd run away… when Slade had obviously kidnapped him? Just what kind of scam could he be pulling?

October 27, 12:02 AM

A column of people carrying various burning objects danced through Jump City's empty streets.

Officer Pavor puzzled over it, his brown eyes narrowing. They had declared martial law four days ago. Anybody who didn't want to spend the night in the slammer stayed in their houses after nine.

Politics. It had to be those damned politics. The partygoers were political activists— that was it!

He strode forward. "Excuse me!" He called. "Excuse me!"

The column stopped, but he could tell that they wanted to keep moving. They shifted restlessly.

He walked towards the front of the column, grasped the arm of the foremost member. "Excuse me, but what are you doing on the street at this hour? We declared martial law four days ago! We sealed the city and declared a nine PM curfew!"

"Martial law!" The woman sang. "Martial law leaping from bank to bank/ martial law hopping around like a skank/smelling sullen and sounding rank/ martial law like a ship sank!" She paused, and Pavor noticed that her face looked strange. "We must keep dancing and moving on/ with red blood watering the lawn/ uptown, downtown, all around 'til dawn/ let us keep dancing, please/ or we'll kill you piece by piece."

Well. That made no sense. It reminded him of that Stephen King book, Desperation, when the evil police officer read a couple their Miranda rights, with things like "I'm going to kill you," interspersed between the familiar lines. "Look, ma'am, I'm afraid you're all going to have to spend the night incarcerated." With that, he radioed for backup, saying that he had caught a group of people breaking curfew.

But she looked him in the eyes, and that was when he realized what was wrong.

The brown and black smudges on her face weren't weird make-up. They were dried blood. Her eyes weren't lifeless-seeming because of contacts, or being stoned. She was dead.

His lost thought before her corpse fell to the ground and his heart stopped beating was, "The sparrows are coming, the sparrows are coming…"

12:30 AM

Slade supposed that the only people who could possibly like the Mayor's house were either completely colorblind or thought that purple and orange complemented each other. This house is giving me a headache. I think I'll kill him for this…

The decorating style was grotesque. It made no sense. There were simply TOO MANY bright, clashing colors. The wallpaper was too busy— he could barely think. No matter what he did, something caught his attention.

That is the last time I ever skip a methylphenidate dose. I should have known better.

"I'm sorry. Sleep deprivation gets to the best of us," he said lightly. "What were you saying?"

"I was simply informing you that Robin tried to bring the JLA into this."

Slade nodded. "And you prevented it, of course."

"Yes, I did."

"We have four days left until we can put the full plan into action. I trust you can keep things together for four days without arousing too much suspicion?"

The Mayor nodded. "Of course!"

"Then I shall take my leave." And with that, Slade slipped from the house and to his subterranean home.

He should have taken his leave of the city, but the Mayor was a fool. He didn't trust him to play things out the way he needed them played.

Of course, since his home was under the city, he couldn't sleep or laugh at any point during the night.

Of course, thanks to adult ADHD… Well, he didn't need to worry too much about sleep deprivation.

He could hold it together for four more days.

12:50 AM

"Jesus, BB!" Cyborg cried. "What in the HELL is wrong with you? Too much tofu? Or maybe you're just stupid!"

"Shut up, alright? We're all tired!" Beast Boy shouted back. "I'm sorry if it upsets you!"

"I just wish you could THINK! 'Cause if you could think, you could see that I'm right!"

The nattering continued endlessly. Raven thought her head would burst from the sheer stupidity of the argument.

Worse, she couldn't think of a cutting insult that would shut them up. "Guys, you know that the argument is pointless right?"

"Yeah, the argument is pointless!" Cyborg rounded on her. "'Cause everything is pointless to you! Fucking Goth!"

Finally, she came up with something. "Cyborg. Beast Boy. You are arguing about whether C2 is worse than Diet Vanilla Coke with the exact same intensity as you would argue about whether aborting Robin in the womb is worse than strangling him when he's two months old."

They shut up.

Robin gave her a strange look.

She ignored it and focused instead on Starfire. Star sat on her favorite end of the couch, quietly scribbling away in a notebook. But when Starfire looked up, to stare at the flickering lights in the city, Raven noticed that her eyes appeared bloodshot.

Cyborg and Beast Boy moved on to arguing over which tragic movie they wanted to watch.

"Cyborg, Beast Boy! Please!" Starfire cried. "I am trying to write! If you could please quiet yourselves out of respect and friendship?"

Cyborg and Beast Boy only argued more.

Robin sat on the couch, listening to music (probably classical or ragtime— he always went back to his roots when something disturbed him). He looked tired, exhausted. She could tell that he hadn't gotten enough sleep, even with his eyes hidden away behind the mask.

Tim Drake looked exhausted as well, and she almost, ALMOST took pity on him. But he was obviously trying to pull some kind of scam on them. But she looked at the bags under his eyes, at the red rims, at how sallow his skin was (all of our skin looks like that, she realized) and wondered how Slade could command such loyalty. It didn't seem like him, to be able to care or be concerned much with his minions. If Drake had been scamming them, it must have been at great potential gain.

October 28, 11:01 AM

Robin stared at the face on the screen before him, and looked around to make sure that none of the others had woken. He noted that they hadn't.

He couldn't blame them, but this was a call he had to make.

"Batman," he said, softly.

"Robin?" Batman's face came on the monitor, but he wasn't wearing the mask. No, now he was posing as Bruce Wayne. "Robin, are you all right? I heard that Jump City enforced martial law after riots at night!"

"I'm fine, Bruce." He said it quietly. "So far. However, we've sort of had to go into nocturnal mode."

"Do you need anything?" He sounded like a desperate father.

The thought made him want to smile. "Yes, but what I need is illegal and I don't want you involved in it."

Bruce turned pale. "You aren't… on… anything, are you?"

"No, I am not hooked on drugs." He paused. "You aren't going to like this, but we need Superman down here. Superman isn't exactly easy to rip apart."

"What?"

"We need Superman to bowl into a column of zombies and rip them apart."

"Zombies?"

"Yeah… a fifty year old curse, called El Masquerade. Please… it takes too long to explain, and I'm exhausted. Let's just say it kills people… then uses their bodies to re-enact Mardi Gras at midnight every night."

Bruce blinked.

"I haven't been getting any sleep… and neither have the other Titans."

"Robin, I can help…"

"Yeah, and then the Mayor would use your illegal presence to campaign against all superheroes and shit all over your name."

"And Superman would be better because?"

"Because at least he'd be alive to have his name shat on."

Bruce obviously didn't understand, and Robin nearly broke down. The conversation continued in the same vein for a while, until Robin finally couldn't hold it back.

"Damn it, Bruce, I'm doing this because I want at least one of us to come out of this alive, and it looks like it might not be me! Okay?" He paused, letting the tears that had been gathering in his eyes fall. "I think I may be going crazy! The Masquerade has kept us awake until dawn for nine days now! You can't sleep between midnight and dawn, or you die. You can't laugh between midnight and dawn, or you die. You can't challenge the Masquerade, or it rips you to pieces!" He began to sob. "Do you have any idea what it's like, to be kept up all night for fear of turning into a zombie? We're going crazy just to stay alive! It's ripping the city apart! They kill at least ten people a night— the people who join it leave their kids, some of them only two months old!"

Bruce looked shocked. "Robin, I…"

"No, Bruce! Something is going to give! Either we find the counter-curse and end the Masquerade, or the Masquerade will kill us! We can't go on like this forever!"

"Stop the hysterics," Bruce said. "I know you're exhausted, I can see it. I'll see if I can get Superman down there to help keep the city intact, and I'll do research on 'El Masquerade'. You… just stay alive." Bruce flashed him a tiny, tiny half-smile. "Just stay alive, okay?"

Robin nodded.

Just stay alive.

…

It's not important

Good and evil

They're neck and neck

Bases loaded

And there's three on left

We're in the final quarter

And it's running out

You'll need a father

Like there's no time out

— Eddie and the Tide, Power Play

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I won't update this fic again until next Monday or Tuesday, at the latest. I think.