Robin lay on his side in bed, completely dressed, staring at the glowing red numbers of his alarm clock. 2:15 A.M. Time to go.

He threw back the sheets and slid out of bed, then stepped to the door. He wouldn't take the R-cycle this time-- it made too much noise. He'd have to go on foot.

Somehow, Robin suspected Slade wouldn't mind if he showed up sweaty and panting, face flushed from running across the city to the clockwork-filled cavern that Slade called home. It was the way he left, anyway.

He wouldn't have much time tonight. The team'd been out late rounding up criminals from a prison break in the late afternoon; tedious, monotonous work. None of the inmates had put up a fight, only ran when they'd spotted him. It was the work of a moment to toss a birdarang out to trip them up, and then chuck them to the curb for the authorities to pick up.

Slade had been quiet lately. Robin suspected their little late night trysts were keeping him satisfied. And for now, that was a good enough excuse for Robin to keep seeing him.

Boots in one hand, Robin padded quietly down the stairs-- the elevator wasn't an option, not with the way it shuddered down the shaft-- and into the main hall that led to the door.

"Stop."

Robin froze, one hand on the keypad. He glanced over his shoulder; Beast Boy was standing in a weak beam of light spilling from a high window. Robin took his hand away from the door. "Beast Boy, I'm just checking the--"

"No you're not." Beast Boy's voice was cold and angry. "I know what you're doing, I know where you're going, and I'm going to stop you."

Robin bent to set his boots down. "You really want to fight me?"

The other boy slipped into a fighting stance, but his hands were trembling. "No, I really don't. But I will, if that's what it takes." He clenched his fists. "You can't go out there."

"Beast Boy--" Robin sighed. "You couldn't understand."

Beast Boy's eyes narrowed. "Oh yeah? I don't understand what it's like when none of your friends understand how you feel, and the only person that makes you feel even a little normal is your enemy?"

Silence.

"...Maybe you do," Robin said hesitantly. "But then you know that there's nothing you can do to help me."

"I can try," Beast Boy said, straightening and lowering his arms to his sides. "If you'll let me."

Robin shook his head. "No. It's not that-- he doesn't understand. But he makes me forget that no one else does, either."

"Then," Beast Boy said softly, "I'll help you forget."

Robin's boots were still at the door the next morning, and his bed was still empty. But somehow, he thought, lying in a strange bed with familiar arms around him, he felt a little more understood.

End.