Sorry for taking so long, I'm suffering from writer's block. Feed me plot bunnies! This kind of takes into account the events in Flash #220, but if you haven't read it, Bruce explains it all to Tim later on. ;)

Chapter 9: Shining Light, Suffering Darkness

Sometimes, more often, I wonder if it's worth it. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just give up, hand over the cape and the mask and go back to some semblance of a normal life.

I think Bruce would actually understand. I think this time around, he might even support the decision. After everything that's happened—I think he'd let me.

But then I remember what happened the last time I tried. Stephanie was Robin for a little while, and Bruce fired her from the job, and it contributed to getting her killed. We knew she was too impulsive—we knew it.

Good things did come out of it for a while, though. For a very short time, I had my father's understand and his respect. For just a little while, we understood one another perfectly. And then because I was Robin, he died. And now his killer's body is lying in a freezer at the bottom of the river waiting for someone to come pick it up and figure out what Penguin wants with it—if he wants anything more than to take him to the taxidermist like he did Blockbuster.

For all I care, the fishes can eat his body.

It's more than he deserves.

Yesterday, I woke Cass up from her own nightmares. This morning, Cass is the one waking me up instead. "Tim? You okay?"

It's still dark outside, only the light she's turned on in the kitchen shining into the room. I let my head thunk back against the arm of her couch. "Bad dream."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, and I sit up. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"It's okay," she says. "I don't have to go to school in the morning."

I try to laugh at her joke. There are circles under her eyes. "You go on back to bed. I'll be fine."

She shakes her head. "I'm awake now. You go back to sleep. You need it more. I'll sleep later."

"I can't," I say, sitting up all the way.

She gives me a push back down on the couch. "Sleep!"

I close my eyes for a second. "Not working."

"Tim!"

I can't help but laugh at her exasperation, and she starts to laugh too. "We're silly," she says.

"Better than being serious at this point," I say.

She looks out the window. "Look. Sun's coming up."

"Yeah," I say.

"What does Babs say?" she says, looking back at me. "Always darkest before morning?"

"Always darkest before dawn," I say quietly, and reach out to brush her hair from her face.

She smiles at me. "It's morning. Night is over."

I can't help but smile back at her, tucking her hair behind her ear, and only one thought goes through my mind—God, she's beautiful. I lean forward, putting my hand through her hair, and I'm kissing her, and she's kissing me back. Her hand falls on my shoulder, comes up to cup my face, and I gently pull away—

And am surprised when the hair tangled in my fingers isn't blonde.

She's confused—that much is evident. "I'm sorry," I gasp.

Her hand falls from my face, and I even see disappointment in her eyes. "It's okay," she says.

"No," I say, getting up. "It's not okay. God, I'm sorry." I start folding up my blankets. "I wasn't thinking."

"Tim!" she says, sounding aggravated. "Don't ap—a—"

"Apologize," I say automatically. "No, Cass—I don't want to do this to you."

"To—to me?" She's struggling. "Tim—damn."

Cass swearing? That's new. "Look, Cass. I respect you too much for this. I don't want—"

"You want!" she explodes. "May—may—be—I want!"

What? Her face is all red, and she's trying to get words out, but she can't. "I—I—I saw—I saw you die! I no want to—lose you!"

"Cass—" I drop the blanket I was nervously folding. This isn't fair—I can't use her as a distraction from all the crap going on in my life.

She springs up off the couch, and crashes into me, and suddenly she's kissing me again, her arms around my neck and I can't let her go. It's like having life breathed into me after being starved for air. I've not held anyone in so long—I've not even touched anyone—Dad and Steph are gone—Bruce was never emotional to begin with—Alfred and Dick are in Gotham, Babs is who knows where and Dana is still in the hospital. Right now, Cass is all I have, and this moment, she's all I want. So I stand here, and I kiss her, and for two minutes everything is all right.

I pull away from her and just wrap my arms around her. I have to wonder if we're using one another—just to make ourselves feel better, and if this feels right for all the wrong reasons. I mean, do we even have the right to get involved with someone with our lifestyles? Eventually, this job will kill us all, and if we didn't know that before, we do now. Can we really get involved? Is it fair to leave someone behind to mourn us?

No. It's not fair, and I pull away completely, hoping I won't have to say anything, and that Cass will simply see it. I step back, looking at her flushed face. "I've got to go to school," I say hoarsely.

She nods. "I'm going back to bed." She turns—

"Cass-" I call after her.

She looks over her shoulder, and I feel like my chest is going to explode my heart is beating so fast and my voice is still hoarse. "It's not that I don't want this—I just—"

She smiles at me, a strange smile, almost sad. "I know. I see."

She goes back to bed, and I go to school.

xxxxxx

I go to Gotham that night. Bruce has Boomerang laid out on the table and Alfred discretely closes the curtain around him. "What did you find?" I ask.

"This," Bruce says, his tone halfway between Batman and Bruce Wayne. He hold up a container. "It's highly encoded, from the Rogues in Keystone City."

"Keystone City?"

"The Rogues there are in the middle of what amounts to a civil war," Bruce says. "They were trying to obtain information from Boomerang's brain—Flash says they were attempting to gain tactical information about the other Rogues, and they gave the information to Penguin."

So much for my theory he'd come straight from Gotham's morgue—apparently he'd made a stop in Keystone. I wish Bruce had told me this before now, though. "Why Penguin?"

"He's playing both sides," Bruce says. "Delivering weapons to both sides—several Keystone criminals are showing up in Gotham—Boomerang, Dr. Alchemy." He hesitates, which is not something he tends to do, and when he speaks again, Batman's growl comes out. "The new Captain Boomerang had just arrived in Gotham. He's staying in a hotel by the river."

I feel my fist clench involuntarily. "Who is he?"

"The original Boomerang's son," Bruce says. "I'm going to pay him a visit later."

"And the microchip?"

"Rogue tactical deployments. Interesting bits of information. I've already sent it to Flash. We'll have to stop Penguin before he can send the weapons to Keystone," he says.

"And Boomerang is here to make sure they get delivery," I say. Bruce nods, and I suddenly realize how ironically appropriate this is—Boomerang's son and me.

This job will kill us all.

"Tim—" Batman's voice has disappeared and Bruce remains. He's trying to be fatherly, and I can tell from the way he's fidgeting and the way Alfred is looking at him. "I want you to stay out of it."

"It's too late for that," I say viciously.

"Robin—" the gravel is back. So much for being fatherly, and honestly, I'd rather it was this way at this moment. "It's not a request."

"It is still too late!" I shout. "I've been involved with this since the beginning and I can't let this go, Bruce!"

God, do not cry. My heart is beating faster than it was this morning and the events of the last week have finally caught up with me, and I want nothing more right now than to keep from coming apart at the seams.

Alfred steps in as he always does, bearing a tray of sandwiches and tea. "I think that perhaps cooler heads will prevail on fuller stomachs."

Bruce ignores him, but my anger is suddenly gone like I was a balloon and someone let out all the air. I know perfectly well that I won't do anything—not at least until Boomerang steps foot into Blüdhaven, and then his ass is mine.

"How is Miss Cassandra?" Alfred asks. My mind immediately goes back to this morning, and I try to control a blush.

"She's fine," I say. "She's doing fine."

xxxxxx

Robin has his own reasons to exist now. Used to, I was going to serve my time and go back to a normal life. I figured by the time I found a girl and was thinking about getting married, I'd have contributed to society enough to back away. I never wanted to be Batman. I just wanted to be Robin.

Sometimes, now, I wonder if being Batman would be such a bad thing. Robin isn't incredibly intimidating. I know that, and I have to wonder if being Batman would have kept him safe—if it was the cowl that protected Alfred from being a target and made my dad the target instead. I wonder if maybe someday taking is an option now.

Dick has first crack at it, though. Being Nightwing wouldn't be too bad either. Dick definitely has more of an intimidation factor going on.

I can't do this now, I think, dropping my cape to the floor. I just can't do this now.

I go to sleep, pretending that Cass is in the other room and trying to remind myself of this morning.