Shadowboxing (Part Five)

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Prepare yourselves for Mortal Kombat, Tim/Cass style. Be sure to leave reviews while placing your bets.

There was a clock ticking inside his head. Robin heard it and knew that it was synchronized with the clock on the computer, the clock that counted down the minutes until the world ended. If you had asked Timothy Drake what he wanted to do in his last moments of life, the answer would definitely not involve fighting Cassandra Cain. But then again, lots of things had happened in Tim's life that he never wanted to happen so one more shouldn't make that much difference. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Robin charged Cassandra, jabbing his bo towards her knee. Cassandra shook her head and sidestepped, taking her foot and pinning the bo to the ground while she hit Tim in the face. The foot that was holding down the bo suddenly lifted upwards, bringing the knee into Robin's stomach.

"You were never as good as me," assured Cassandra as she elbowed Tim in the back of the head, "Is this how you want to prove it?"

"You know I don't give up," reminded Robin as he let one of his R's fly at Cassandra. His opponent ducked, letting the whirling projectile strike the computer terminal. There were sparks and hissing sounds as the computer malfunctioned. Robin smirked but his little stunt hadn't stopped the clock yet. Tick, tock.

"Not in here," stated Cassandra as she tackled Robin through the doorway. Both combatants caught their breath before Cassandra kicked at Robin, pushing him back against the railing of the balcony they were on.

'At least it's indoors,' muttered Tim inwardly. Still, a fall from it wasn't going to feel good.

"You wanted to be so much like Batman," smirked Robin, "He'd be ashamed to see you now."

"He wasn't my father," retorted Cassandra as she came at Tim again, "Even though I wanted him to be." She knew what he was doing. Angry opponents make mistakes. If he couldn't physically beat her then he would try on his own terms. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to work.

"Trust me, he wouldn't try to anymore," assured Robin as he dodged the punch and hooked his bo under her arm and then behind her neck. Tim maneuvered the stick till Cassandra was hung up like a scarecrow with him behind her and holding onto both ends of the bo.

"You can't win," snarled Cassandra as she tried to get away. Robin rammed his knee into her back, eliciting a cry of pain from his former partner that hurt him far worse than she was hurting.

"Please," begged Robin, "Please help me end this." He kneed her in the back again.

"It will end soon," assured Cassandra through gritted teeth as she slipped her arms out of the lock and chopped both of Robin's knees. She added a kick in the stomach for good measure before rolling away.

"You're not even close to winning," assured Cassandra as she caught her breath, "You're running out of time." Robin knew it was true. The clock was still ticking and he was running out of gas faster than Cassandra was. She was too good. He had to do something to even the score.

"We'll see," replied Robin as he came at Cassandra again. Cassandra whirled sideways to avoid Tim's attack but she felt his hand grab the Batgirl cowl at the back of her costume and rip it away.

"What will that do?" asked Cassandra as Robin hopped up onto the balcony's rail and fingered the cowl and found the special lenses in the eyeholes. He hoped this would work.

"Come find out," dared Robin as Cassandra climbed up onto the railing with him. Both fighters secured their balance for a moment before Robin moved forward to strike with a slash from one of his R's. Cassandra executed a back handspring and kicked the weapon from Tim's grasp. She kept her balance and let a foot fly out towards Robin's face. Robin bent backwards to dodge the kick and then leaned forward as the same leg came back around at him again. He wobbled slightly but flicked something at Cassandra. By the time she realized what it was, the flash bomb had already gone off. That's why he grabbed her mask, to take away the protection of the lenses inside it.

"You're the best," stated Robin as he kicked Cassandra and caused her to fall onto the balcony floor, "but only when you can see what the opponent's doing."

"That's cheating," snapped Cassandra as she shook her head. Her vision had blobs of color in it that was making it difficult to read Robin's moves. She should've known he'd do something like this. It wasn't Robin's fighting skills that made him such a worthy opponent. It was the fact that his brain was so dangerous.

"All is fair in love and war," declared Robin, not admitting aloud that this was both. This wasn't just about him saving the world. It was about him saving the girl he loved from giving into the void. Cassandra swung at where Tim's voice was. They had taught her enough about fighting blind that she could still perform adequately. Robin ducked the blow and moved away, setting off another flash bomb.

"Stop this," said Robin as he kicked Cassandra twice in the leg and then once in the side of the head. Cassandra couldn't see anything but blobs of color and a giant glare as another flash bomb went off.

"No," replied Cassandra as her foot shot out and finally connected with Robin's jaw. The force of the blow made Robin spin on his heel before he collapsed to the floor. Cassandra knew she had an opportunity to finish this. She let her vision begin to clear until she could make out something that looked like Tim attempting to get back up. She kicked him in the head again.

"You can't kill me," said Robin as he rolled into a sitting position and tried to get back up with help from the railing.

"I can kill anyone," assured Cassandra coldly, "You can be the example." She kicked Tim in the chest and saw him writhe in agony.

"I dare you," said Robin defiantly, "Come and do it. You think you're so tough and heartless but I can't see it that way. Prove me wrong, Cass." Cassandra stared at him. He was broken and exhausted. Why was he still trying? Why not accept the inevitable like she had?

"Everybody dies," said Cassandra as she drew her hand back, "I didn't want this. I wanted you to be with me. You brought this on yourself." Robin stared at her. He knew what was coming. It was the same move she had used on that man when she was eight years old. He remembered the first time he ever saw that tape. He remembered wanting to kill her father for trying to turn her into that.

"Stop making . . . excuses," said Robin as he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. Cassandra's arm was still poised for the attack but her body would not respond to her command to strike. She simply stood there, frozen by the fact that she was on the verge of killing the last person she loved.

"I knew it," said Robin before he passed out. Cassandra stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. She . . . she had hesitated. She had done the routine over and over again, practiced that one last shot until it was perfect. But now when the opportunity came . . . she hesitated.

"Everybody," whispered Cassandra as she stared around the room. Memories flickered through her mind, clouding her vision as her past became her present. She had killed before. Why not kill again? Wasn't this the life expected of her? She felt like she was being ripped in half. She had been taught to kill and, paradoxically, she had been taught to protect. She was a walking contradiction, a monument to two polar opposite ideals. She had a killer instinct but still enough compassion to care about people she'd never even met. It was too much for her to handle. She didn't know who she was supposed to be anymore.

"I was supposed to die," said Cassandra to herself as she remembered the fight with Mad Dog, "I was supposed to die." Wasn't that the real reason behind this glorious plan? Didn't she just want to die? Sure there was the supposed revenge on the world and sure there were some notions of justice in there too. But in reality, Cassandra Cain wanted to die because dying was better than living half a lie every single day of your life.

"Why did you try?" asked Cassandra as she looked at Robin, "Why did you love me?" She felt like crying. She kept staring at Tim and the more she stared at him the louder a little voice in her head got.

"We shouldn't be here," said Cassandra as she moved back into her office. The clock was still ticking. Less than a minute till the end of the world. There was still time. For so long, she had defined herself based on her past, on whose blood flowed inside her. First she had run from it then she had accepted it. Now, when it mattered most, Cassandra Cain just wanted to be herself instead of all the things everyone had taught her.

"I love you," said Cassandra as she stared at the clock.

"Voice code approved," replied the computer. The keyboard suddenly sparked from the damage it had sustained and the clock continued ticking.

"System error," declared the computer, "Cannot abort." Cassandra slammed the heel of her foot down onto the keyboard. She hit the machine with her fist. This was her way, hitting something until it refused to get back up. She kicked the computer again and jumped back as something finally exploded. Sparks flew everywhere and the clock finally stopped.

"System malfunction," sputtered the computer before the screen blew out. Cassandra shielded herself from the debris and saw that the explosion had started a fire. She let it sink in for a moment. She had saved the world, the heartless and cruel world that she told herself she hated. Maybe Tim was right. Maybe she was just being stupid about this whole thing.

"Everybody dies," said Cassandra Cain as she grabbed Shrike's unconscious body and dragged it towards the door, "but nobody dies tonight." She understood it all now. She understood why Tim kept fighting.

"Thank you," said Cassandra as she slung Robin's body over one shoulder and Shrike's over the other. The fire continued raging as she carried both of them to safety, the proverbial angel on one shoulder and the demon on the other. She was no hero. She was no villain. All these things had been taught to her. But somewhere inside her, Cassandra Cain was a decent enough human being to see the value of life at long last. Nobody had to teach her that. That came on its own and she had ignored it for far too long.

"Nobody dies," coughed Cass as she carried the two men through the front door and out into the night. She coughed more and eventually collapsed onto the sidewalk, shrugging the burden from her sagging shoulders. There were sirens approaching.

"Sorry," whispered Cass as she grabbed one of Robin's grappling hooks and forced energy into her weary body. She fired the line and hooked it onto a building before zipping up into the night sky.

XXXXX

Robin coughed repeatedly as he opened his eyes and tried to get his body to move. He shook his head and coughed again as he staggered to his feet. Where was Cass? He heard a lot of sirens and yelling.

"Easy, kid," said Detective Manheim as he put a hand on Robin's shoulder to steady him, "You look like hell." Robin turned and saw the fire.

"Cass!" shouted Robin as he moved to go back inside. Manheim grabbed him and held him back.

"We haven't found anyone in there yet," assured Manheim, "You and that other guy, Shrike, are the only ones we've seen." Robin struggled against the detective's grip. Where was Cass? Had she gone back inside to die? Had he lost someone again?

"My partner could be in there!" snapped Robin as he turned to face Manheim.

"You go back in there and you'll die," assured Manheim, "Anybody who runs with you guys has to be tough. You think a fire could stop her?" Robin wearily sighed. His body was still aching from the fight. She couldn't have been in there. She had saved his life. Why go back and die?

"There's nothing you can do," assured Manheim, "You're a detective, kid. Use your head." Robin looked on at the inferno. Manheim was right. It would be suicide to go back in. If Cass was still in there she would've already been dead by now.

"You gonna arrest me now?" asked Robin.

"Nah," replied Manheim, "The coroner had the suit. He paid off one of our boys to take it and falsified the autopsy report in exchange. Between the bogus report and all the tampering with evidence, there's not much of a case against you."

"Any mention of the League of Assassins?" asked Robin.

"We're thinking our boy was working for someone," explained Manheim, "He'll get some weasely lawyer and get off on a technicality. Guarantee it. They the same people who started this bonfire?"

"Yeah," replied Robin bitterly as he watched the townhouse burn. Manheim studied the boy. It was scary to think what he had seen thanks to this lifestyle. The way Tim spoke and the way he carried himself almost made the detective believe that he had been on the job as long as Manheim himself.

"Who was she?" asked Manheim quietly. Robin turned to stare at the detective. What did it matter now? Even if Manheim knew the truth, Cass's records had been erased almost from the moment she had been born.

"Cassandra Cain," replied Robin, "She was always a hero. She just forgot it for a moment."

XXXXX

Tim Drake dragged his sore body through the door of his apartment. He vaguely realized that he would have to write up a case report and give it to Batman. He bit his lip as he thought about how to tell Bruce what had happened. He heaved and choked back a sob at the thought of mentioning that Cass could be dead.

"This is the life you wanted, Drake," said Robin bitterly as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, "I hope you're happy." The reflection didn't say anything in return. Robin took off his mask and unclipped his cape. The gadgets came next. It was his routine and Robin was a creature of habit. But lately, life had become anything but routine. He thought the year off had helped. He was looking forward to getting back to work. Now this had to happen. He had been so sure about everything for what felt like the first time in forever. Now he just felt like a man in the dark groping aimlessly for a light-switch.

"What?" asked Tim as he heard a noise that seemed out of place. His eyes flicked around the room as he turned in its direction. What else could happen tonight?

"Come out," ordered Tim as he saw something glint in the moonlight. Cassandra Cain obliged him, emerging from the shadows with a knife already drawn. Tim figured she must've taken it off Shrike's body before she left. He felt like killing himself. She had saved his life only to end it?

"No," assured Cass as she saw Tim reach for his bo. She turned the knife backwards and presented it to him handle-first, gesturing that he should take it.

"What?" asked Tim as he took the knife from her. She looked him dead in the eye. She had been so wrong to him, so wrong to everyone. She hated herself for that.

"I have dishonored my family," said Cassandra Cain as she touched the emblem of the Bat on her chest, "I have dishonored this family. Please take repayment." Robin looked her in the eye again and knew what she wanted. She wanted him to kill her. If you had asked Tim Drake a year or so ago about his thoughts on killing villains, he wouldn't have given you a clear opinion. At that time, he was sick of the revolving-door policy and about notions of justice. If evil was willing to kill at a moment's notice then why should he continue playing by outdated rules? But that was a year ago and he had been full of sadness and frustration. Maybe the line between good and evil was getting fuzzier every day but he knew what was right and what was wrong.

"No," said Tim as he threw the knife away, "I won't cross that line . . . not even for you, Cass." She looked up at him from where she had pulled her eyes downward in shame and guilt and saw the same Tim Drake she had always seen. She had always admired his determination and now she felt like a complete failure when she compared herself to him.

"Why?" asked Cass as she fought the losing battle to hold back her tears.

"Because," replied Tim shakily, "Because, God help me, I still love you." She collapsed into his arms then, tightly embracing him and pouring out all the confused emotions inside her into heaving and shuddering sobs. Tim rested his cheek against her raven-colored hair and hugged her fiercely.

"I just . . .," sobbed Cass, "I just forgot . . . what to hold onto." Tim softly nuzzled his cheek against her hair and kept holding her, both of them crying. It was so easy to forget how human she was. It was so easy to think about her losing that humanity. But this night, both of them had learned what an easy thing humanity was to lose and how important it was to hold onto.

"I love you," whispered Tim quietly as he held her in the darkness of his room.

"I love you too," whispered back Cass. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips. He returned and for the first time in a long time everything was at peace for both of them. They both ended up collapsing together on his bed, settling comfortably next to each other.

"It's . . . it's been a long day," whispered Tim as he ran his fingers through Cass's hair.

"Yeah," agreed Cass quietly.

"I remember the first time I saw you in regular clothes," said Tim absently, "I thought you were so beautiful. You still are."

"I remember the first birthday you had with me," said Cass, "I didn't . . . I didn't know you that well but . . . I was happy for you." She felt her language problem resurfacing a little. She had tried hard over the year to get better about that but when she was stressed it came back. Right now, neither of them minded that.

"I remember Stephanie's funeral," continued Tim, "I remember staring across the room and looking into your eyes. It was like both of us were thinking the exact same thing and we knew it." Cass nodded sleepily and rested against him. She felt very tired now that her adrenaline was shutting down and fatigue was setting in.

"Cass?" asked Tim, "Who . . . who was your mother?"

"Shiva," replied Cass quietly, "My parents don't matter, Tim. Not anymore." Tim felt so happy in that moment as she snuggled closer to him. Cassandra Cain was not her father's child nor was she her mother's child. Cass was just Cass, the same Cass that he had always known her as. He felt her breathing deepen and found that she had quietly gone to sleep.

"Sweet dreams, Cass," whispered Tim as he kissed her on the head and then joined her in sleep.

XXXXX

Tim awoke the next morning as sunlight streamed through his open window. He expected to find Cass still wrapped in his arms but he found himself alone. The shower wasn't running. Had she gone to the main house? Had she gone to wherever else she could stay in the city? Tim looked over at his nightstand and saw a note. When he picked it up, he suddenly understood why he could never analyze the handwriting on the letter he got that brought him back to Gotham. Somewhere in the span of one year, Cassandra Cain had learned how to write. He sat up and began to read the note.

Tim,

I can't write very good.I have to leave.I need to . . . I need to go find me.You know.I did bad things.I will always be sorry. Please wait for me . . . for me to come back.I swear I will.

Love,

Cass

"However long it takes," promised Tim quietly, "I'll wait forever for you, Cass."

(Author's Note): Epilogue is coming.