What are you doing here? Don't you see the NO TRESPASSING sign? I like my privacy, Dang It! Lol I get more unique every day...I hope to some day make an interesting specimen for some great psychologist.

morgannia: Yay! You get a cookie! Yes, that is basically what is going on. LOL no kidding about the mirror. Nah it's not a sequel. Robin knows he has feelings for Ray, he just won't tell her. Raven has them, she just hasn't fully realized or admitted yet. Slade's influence? Hmm...we'll have to see. (If you must throw something at me, could it at least be something that will cause minimal damage? Thank you.) -Frowns- yeah Star did give up quite easy...probably should have made her struggle a bit more. It's hard to do her justice, because of my own personal opinions. Lol I'm pleased that the bird lives, too :)

Rinagurl13: Yeah, confusion is basically innevitable right now. Glad you liked it :)

raeandrobtheystolemyfoureva: Who stole what? Where are they? I'll beat the crap out of 'em! LOL anyway...-Nervously sweat drops- no pressure, eh? LOL! To be quite honest, I'm not all that sure where I am going, but I will do my best to make sure the destination is at least interesting, if nothing else. Your patience is much appreciated...I suppose I should excercise a bit of patience where your new story is concerned...Spanking good fic :)

Strixvaria: Lol I'm glad you like it :)

RavenHairedInsanity: Yeah...it is going to be a bit twisty for a while...they are related tho, trust me. -Laughs nervously-...I shall put on my thinking cap and try to conjure up a good story for you!

Furubafun24-Cheers- Yay! I'm glad you appreciate my twisted way of writing. Oh my gosh I just watched it! Talk about tension! Cheese! A Very good thing is that there was alot of Ray/Rob hints in there! No one could deny it! I feel bad for Raven...and I stand corrected. Slade can get even creepier, as he just did. OOOH I hate that guy! LOL I always knew he was a devil worshipper... -clears throat- Er...anyway...I'm glad you like it :)

jambey: Yeah, she is very much alive. -Blush- My friends tell me that I have an obsession with Robin's eyes...I suppose they could be right. Hmm...well, it always ticks me off when people call me dear...it's not so much the word as it is the way they say it...-shrug- dunno...

Aeris-Raven: Yeah, it's Poe, the amazing, the brilliant, the...okay I'll stop now. I don't usually like poetry either, but he is an exception. Lol how I wish I knew where I was going... Lol thanks...I'm glad you appreciated my humor. My friends were a bit disturbed when they heard me compare a person to a soda machine, but that is what she was acting like. Yay I have started a trend! Yeah, it was meant to be quite ironic...The fact is, Robin is human, whether he likes it or not, and therefore, he is not immune to a speeding car. Plus he was being careless in his anger...Don't really know why I did it; I pretty much write from sentence to sentence, so the result sometimes even surprises me. I'm glad you like it :)

tinkerbellx2: That's good. It's ok, I understand being busy. I knew you would come back...or at least I really hoped you would. Lol Hear Hear! And if I can provide it, I will. Yay! There was oodles of ray/rob hints in Birthmark! The part in the church was so...Lol would you like me to provide a recap for you? Holy Terror! What an evil teacher! She makes mine look like a birthday party! Yes, I have said it before, and I will say it again: CREATIVITY SHOULD NOT BE FORCED.

AriesFalcon: Yes, master...Lol j/k.

Majestical: Yeah...I have surpassed myself for confusing story twists...Glad you like it anyway, and (hopefully) it will all make sense soon.

lady briallen: Your wish is my command :)

nevermoretheraven: Lol yeah it does sound like Ray, doesn't it? Hmmm...what are your ideas? I would be interested to hear them.

EvilYellowCrayon: Thanks...I'm glad you like the name...I had a bit of difficulty coming up with it, and I'm not sure if it really fits the story, so yeah. Thanks for reviewing :)

Umbro Draco? Raving-Lunatic? Dark-Angels-Tears? AnnFaithDarknessGoddess? SOVEREIGN LORD OF CHAOS? Where for art thou? Your comments are much needed! Ok, so shut up and read.

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Twilight turned to dusk, and dusk was followed by a suffocating cloak of darkness, the air too thick with man's ingenius creations to allow the weak twinkling of stars to break through.

Night suited him much better than light. Darkness kept him hidden from prying eyes, darkness masked his pain.

There was no "uptown" and "downtown" in this city. It was all one big slum, and no one decent left their homes after six o'clock. Police officers didn't exist. If someone witnessed a murder, they turned a blind eye, scampering off to protect their own lives. Crimes were not limited to the night, but daylight was certainly safer than darkness.

He ran himself ragged every night, pushing himself far past exhaustion, working himself into the ground, but still there was always one more robbery, one more murder, one more raping. His work would never be finished, he could never rest. One person couldn't possibly handle all the crime this city dished out.

The worst part was that it was all organized. All the criminals were under one master. The Crime Lord. The King Pin. Our broken hero could pick off twenty or so minions a night, but that didn't even make a dent in the vast army surrounding the Dark Master. Everytime one follower was exterminated, three more took his place. Victory was impossible, failure innevitable. He knew it, though he never would admit, not even to himself. He would fight for her, fight for the person he had once been, fight for friends long gone, fight to his very last breath. The fight was the only thing keeping him sane, if he could even be called that. There had to be a purpose. If there was no purpose in his life, it was not worth living. He would rather die in the face of impossible adversity than hide in some filthy, dark corner, drowning in misery and defeat until, with no will left, he selfishly extinguished his pathetic life. NO! He would die fighting, die in attempt after vain attempt to erase that one great failure with a million small victories. It was the only course.

"Little past your bedtime, ain't it, punk"

He returned to reality with a harsh bump. He could make out, by the dim light of a dying street lamp, the faint, but sinister, outline of a man standing a few feet away from him. He sank back into the shadows, looking for the "punk" the thug had reffered to.

"Not very smart bein' out here after dark. You could get yourself hurt." His malicious grin could be heard, if not seen.

"Back off!" The voice was young, high-pitched, but the fury it contained was evident, all the same. An eerie familiarity tugged at his mind...

"Oooh, fiesty, eh? We can't have you gettin' smart with me, punk. I've got a couple good reasons for you to turn around and run. One..." There was a quiet click, a sound that sent a cold thrill down our hero's spine. He had heard enough.

"ARRG!", the man screamed, as he was hit from behind. His knees buckled at an unknown foot kicked them viciously. "What the he-" A fist connected with his face, making speech just about impossible. Before he knew it, he was kissing the pavement, still clueless as to the identity of his attacker.

With one last look of disgust, he turned away from the scum and started to leave, knowing that there were thousands of other innocent lives waiting for him out in the shadows.

"Wait!"

He froze, turning slowly towards the voice...Where had he heard that voice before?

The boy was shivering slightly, his shirt too large and too thin for such a frigid October night. "Th-Thank you", he said quietly, looking at his shoes as though suddenly uncomfortable.

The nagging feeling was becoming almost unbearable. Who was this kid? "Shouldn't you be home? Where are you parents?" The change in the boy was amazing. He tensed, then began to shake: not from the cold blasting straight through his inadequate clothing. The hero frowned, watching the child with concern. He felt a strange urge to comfort him, soothe him, tell him that he was not alone...

"They...I..." The boy swallowed, trying to hold his voice steady. "I don't know what to do..."

The horrible pang of loss filled him, as though he could sense the child's emotions. This...this had happened before...

Blinding lights, blaring music...

"I couldn't save them..."

Snapping, tumbling...An endless scream...

"Was it my fault?" Dick's voice was so quiet it could hardly be heard. His lip quivered as bitter tears began to fall. "Did I do it?"

The man without a name stumbled backwards away from the boy, away from himself. He clutched his head as the world spun, screaming as memories flooded back, every detail stabbing him like a knife...

"And now, The Flying Graysons!"

He was smiling, perched on the edge of his seat, carefree...so unsuspecting and innocent. So naive. So weak.

"NO!", he yelled, pushing himself farther away from himself. "This isn't...You're not..." He stopped, breathing in the cold night air, and letting it hiss slowly through his clenched teeth. This couldn't be happening, it just wasn't possible, was he finally cracking? After all these years?

"Kid! Hey kid, they're gone. There's nothing you can do."

Hands pulling, tugging, pinching, hurting, dragging him down...He fought, kicked, bit...anything to free himself...

"Whoa! This kid's nuts! Have you called the police?"

"They're on their way."

He could still feel thier blood on his fingers, the cold, forbidding chill of their skin...he could see the glassy look in their eyes. Empty.

Every tear hurt, every sob racked his small body. He held their hands, held them close, trying desperately to bring them back with his tears, his cries, his pain...Why? Why? Why?

He felt sorrow, but it was soon replaced with a raging fury; fury at himself, fury at his parents, fury at the corrupt maniac who had ended their lives in one fell swoop. People that stole life away without a thought or a care didn't deserve life. They should have died, in agony and defeat. He should have killed them! He would have been perfectly justified in doing so.

Remembering that day after eleven years of trying to forgetwas almost more than he could take. They say that wounds heal with time, but this particular wound had been cut open so many times that it refused to heal properly, not seeing the point in fixing something that would end up broken anyway.

Broken.

That was him. Shattered on the ground. Crushed into a million worthless pieces. Damaged beyond repair.

But this boy, his eight-year-old self...he still had hope. He still had a chance. Maybe his life could be different...His heart ached for the child...The boy didn't deserve such hate, such cruelty, such abuse. "It's...it's ok." His voice was rough; it had been so long since he had tried to love, to comfort.

Dick lifted his head in mild surprise, but hastily ducked it again, pretending to button his shirt while wiping the tears from his mask-less eyes.

The hero smiled, but there was no joy in it. He had been proud and stubborn even then; whether or notthat was good or bad, it was true. He tried again. "Listen, what happened-" He stopped as painful images flashed before his eyes. He took a shuddering breath. "You didn't...it wasn't your fault. There's nothing you could have done." These words were all familiar, but this was the first time he had ever believed them.

Dick was silent, his small frame shaking uncontrollably. The tears were coming in unsupressable waves. Those were the words he so desperately needed to hear, the only thing that could ease this pain. Suddenly, he felt strong arms around him, warming him, protecting him...He closed his eyes and sobbed openly, leaning into the comforting presence, the regret and guilt that had been plaguing his young mind fleeing into the shadows, driven away by this warm embrace. He was shocked to realize that the strange man was crying just as much as he was. His quiet tears told of pain so deeply rooted that nothing could ever pull it out. His stomach twisted in sympathy for the man's suffering. Who had he lost?

Dick pulled back gently, looking searchingly at the masked face, lined in pain. "Whatever happened...", he began quietly, "you did everything you could. Don't punish yourself for something you didn't do."

Nameless blinked, taking a closer look at the boy in front of him, surprised at the knowing look in his bright, watery eyes. A warmth that he had not experienced for years surrounded him, emenating from the child he had once been, easing the pain in a way he thought impossible. A smile, more haunted than happy, but a smile all the same, found its way to his cold lips. He reached out a hand and ruffled the boy's messing black hair: something he knew would bother him.

Dick smiled warmly, reaching up to put his hair to rights again. He gave his savior a quick hug, then disappeared just as suddenly as he came, leaving behind no proof that he had ever been there in the first place.

Nameless stepped back in surprise. He knew Dick had been there, he had seen him, touched him...he was very much solid, substantial, alive. And that's when logic caught up with him.

How could he possibly have seen his eight-year-old self? The only explanation was insanity, and amazingly enough, that didn't surprise or disturb him very much. Sane or insane, it didn't really matter much anymore. Nothing mattered. The vision had been no more than a byproduct of his inner torment. Nothing worth giving thought to.

But he did give thought to it. Somehow he felt different, changed. He could swear that the sky was not as smog-choked as it had been, that the streets were less filthy, that the night felt a little safer. Something was happening; he didn't know what or how, but something was happening.

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Well there it is. Oh by the way, Robin in this is not Nightwing. Why? I just can't seem to get used to that character...honestly I just don't like him much. Nor is he really Robin, or Dick. He is nameless, and so, to make it less confusing, he shall be known as Nameless. Cheesy? Perhaps.

Let me know if you even like where I am going with this. I hope the pieces are falling into place for you...I'm trying to make it less confusing. Review, my pretties! Er...Uh...Yeah... -Dusty