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Chapter Five
1
November 22
Jump City
Raven dropped into the sewers, making sure not to let her feet touch the ground.
That would have made noise, and she really, really couldn't afford noise right now.
The expected sewer-smell and the less-expected smell of the sea filled her nose. She neither sighed nor gasped. Instead, she stopped and listened. She heard nothing besides the distant rushing of sewer water. Apparently, this wasn't a trap.
Along the walls, someone had traced a pink line with what was probably chalk.
Pink chalk. Not the city government, then, or even somebody who had a good excuse to be down here. The city government would have used flourescent yellow spray paintless chance of rubbing off, and less water-soluble.
But could a decent group of terrorists really be so stupid as to mark out the path to their headquarters?
This smells like a trap.
On the other hand, they'd left her Jell-O.
These people were just plain weird, she decided as she followed the trail. It led to a wonderfully confusing fork in the road, a fork with about six different prongs.
Unfortunately, they weren't stupid enough to write "secret lair: this way" on any of the paths.
She decided to decide the good old-fashioned way: she stopped and listened again. In the distance, she heard laughter.
She followed the sound, hoping the dark colors of her leotard and cloak would hide her from any sentries. If worst came to worst, she would stand and fight, but she really didn't want to have to fight her way out of the sewers.
She caught a glimpse of some of the muck on the ground. The footsteps of many, many people had worn out a trail in the grime, but she felt sorry for whoever had been the first to walk there, and glad that she could hover.
At length, she reached the group's presumed headquarters. She waited in the tunnel outside, as there were at least ten people in the room, and few objects with which to attack them.
"Now listen," a young woman said. "In the airports and on the planes, you must use English."
"But you said we weren't to use English in public."
Raven couldn't see the dissenter, but the young woman whirled in what was probably his direction.
"Do you want to blow the cult open? Do you? If you do, best of luck. I hope youwell" The woman stopped for a moment and looked down. When she looked up again, she wore a sick, bitter smile. "Ongi pasa!"
The others in the group laughed and took it up as some sort of chant.
Ongi pasa!
They had written that on the card that they'd left with the Jell-O.
Just what did it mean?
And who were these people? Some kind of crazy fire-worshipping religion? She hoped so. They didn't sound like members of one of the thousands of sects of the Church of Raven, but there were so many variations, you could never really be sure.
"Now, rememberGotham has Batman. He's not an amateur, so probably he'll figure out we're there before the twenty-third incident. And I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he speaks the Language."
There was somethjing seriously wrong here.
They wanted to blow things up in Gotham? Were these people insane? What in the world did they think they were doing?
She moved away. Now wasn't the time to try to arrest them. There were too many.
Already, the woman had begun some sort of war cry.
She had to warn Batman, Robin and Starfire.
She teleported to the Tower, her heart beating quickly and especially loudly in her ears.
2
November 22
Gotham City: Gotham City Boys Preparatory, Jr. High Campus, 3:07 PM
Tim Drake calmly adjusted his tie until he no longer felt as though it were strangling him.
Tim called out a goodbye to his only new friend at Gotham Prep, Blaise. Blaise laughed and waved back, heading off towards the station with the school's bus.
"Tim!" Someone cried.
It wasn't any of the people he knew from Gotham Prep, but he recognized the voice anyway.
He'd know that voice anywhere.
He turned to see a dark-haired young man standing near the exit from the school grounds.
The youth had eyes so vivid a blue that Tim could tell their color from paces away.
The boy flashed a quick, brilliant smile.
Tim remembered that, too. That smile still shone on a poster hanging on Tim's bedroom wall.
Robin.
"Tim!" Robin called again.
Tim headed over. "Hey, Dick! Why are you here?"
Robin looked confused for a momentor was that just because he'd gone pale?but quickly returned to normal.
"I need you to come with me," Robin said. "I think I may have figured out why Slade let you live."
"Really?" Tim asked. "Is it something I want to know?"
Translation: Is it horrifying or will it put me and my family in danger?
"Take a ride with me. I'll tell you in the car."
Tim followed Robin to the car. The car happened to be a red Corvette convertable, the kind of sports car most seventeen year olds could only dream about.
His father had promised him that he would have a 'vette, when he got his license.
"Why?" He demanded as soon as the passenger door slammed closed behind him and Robin had pressed the button that unwound the top.
Gotham City: Wayne Manor, 5:22 PM
"What do you mean he isn't home from school yet?" Dick shouted into the phone.
None of the answers he received were satisfactory, or even something approaching it, and the receiver soon joined the cradle with a slam.
Moments later, his T-Communicator began playing its usual tune.
He flipped open the top
Raven's face appeared on the tiny screen.
"Robin," she hissed.
He suddenly felt glad of the fact that he had put on his mask.
"Raven. Report."
Her report was concise, clear— and chilling.
"You've got to be. . . But you don't. . . ."
"This isn't a joke."
"I know." He sighed heavily. "Any word from Beast Boy and Cyborg?"
"None."
It wasn't surprising.
"Have you come any closer to solving our friendly neighborhood mystery?"
"A little. Drake and Slade are related."
"No."
"Yes. Tim's his great nephew by marriage, once removed."
Raven said nothing.
This was one of those revelations there just was no witty comeback for.
"Robin. . . I. . ."
"I know. I don't think he would have spared Tim because they were related."
"Somehow, I don't either."
"I have bad news."
"What?"
"I think Tim's been kidnapped again."
"By whom?"
"I don't know."
"Not Slade--- it can't be. Slade is dead."
"He's escaped from death before."
"And he's faked that escape before."
"Maybe it wasn't Slade in Jump City. Slade would have had to have been stupid to stay in Jump City during the Masquerade."
"True. . . But . . . You fought him, and he died from the Masquerade."
"It could easily be a robot or a clone."
"You know what they say about the simplest explanation being the best. I don't think Slade did this."
"But who else would want Tim?"
"Robin. THINK. OBJECTIVELY."
He sighed, then cleared his mind of all the possibilities he had come up with so far. He forced himself to look at the case from an open perspective.
It was then that he realized that they would need more evidence before he could begin to hazard a guess.
He stared at the darkness outside. After a moment, he jerked his gaze away from the distant lights of the city and looked at the clock.
Wayne would arrive home soon, and soon after that, Alfred would serve dinner, after which they would suit up and head out.
He could hardly wait. Starfire was growing used to Gotham, was growing more effective with criminals.
He loved watching her work.
"We'll need more evidence," Robin murmured to Raven.
"I know. But you'll know when the Drake family reports Tim missing again, won't you?"
"I'll know immediately."
"Keep me informed. Because if he was kidnapped, we can both guess why."
Yes, that they could.
His identity.
He closed the connection with a curt dismissal. It was only when he was sure that Raven couldn't see him that he allowed himself to shiver.
He found Starfire squatting in the hall, staring into a shadowy corner.
If Alfred caught her sitting in the floor. . .
"Star."
She looked up. "I thought I saw Silkie."
"You left him in Raven's care."
"I am unsure that was wise. . ."
He sighed and pulled her to her feet, explaining as he did so why she couldn't sit on the floor.
"It will be time to suit up and go out soon."
"Oh, wonderful! How splendid! How soon shall it be?"
"After Bruce comes home and we've all eaten dinner."
"Can we not eat dinner in our costumes, once? As we did in the Tower?"
"I doubt it," Robin answered.
Starfire's face fell. "Friend Robin, I miss the camaraderie of the Titans."
"I know."
But as a vigilante, he had been born to this--- working almost completely alone, relying mostly on himself. He missed his friends, but he didn't miss working on a team. So he didn't tell her that he did, too. He'd told her enough lies, lately.
She floated away, head hanging.
And suddenly, he found himself missing Raven's self-sufficiency.
I need her in Jump City, he thought, knowing she was the only one with anything like his detective training, but I want her here.
He wasn'tsure if that shocked him or not.
Apologies for the lateness. Updates should be a bit more regular; for a while, at least.
I know it's not as long as my usual chapters, please forgive me for that. My hands hurt and I don't have any Magic Writing Juice right now. I can write Robin and Raven any day of the week, but writing my Beast Boy requires a certain mood. This is probably because my Beast Boy is a little bundle of emotions, insanity, horrible memories, clichéd pleasant memories, and probably some string, all held together with tofu and vegetarianism.
I know this sounds greedy, but please review! It lets me know that I'm reaching my audience.
