IMPORTANT: If you are one of the many who read the first version of "Surf Sand and Superheroes" please make sure you have read the Re-done final scene. I'll put it this way, if the scene you read involved Batgirl, then its no longer in context with the story. So please make sure you know how it ends now, Thanks.

Young Knights:

Issue #4: David versus Goliath

Taking in a deep breath of Gotham harbor's salty and smog filled air made Nightwing's nose twitch. The winds played across his face, tussling his hair into a tangled mess, but he didn't care, truth be told he liked it messy; it was a trait common among Robins, former and current that he had noticed. Dick pressed his forearm into his eyes, rubbing them wearily, he really wanted nothing more than to crawl back into a bed, be it his… or Babs'… but he couldn't think of that now, didn't want to mull over how he had once again taken the easy way out. "Better for both of us," he muttered. A glint of sunlight along the shoreline caught his eye. This wasn't a public beach, and normally it was kept clean. Getting a pair of tweezers from his costume, Nightwing pulled a small needle and syringe from the sand, the remains of some blue liquid still on the inside. Forgetting his depression and forgetting his uncomfortable standings with Barbara, Dick flipped on his communicator, his voice nothing but business. "Oracle, this is Nightwing, I think I've found something.

. . . . . . . . .

"I'm telling you Dana, this dinner could turn everything around! I just might be able to get Drake Industries back on the map in two years!" Jack Drake fixed his bow tie and adjusted the collar of his tuxedo, giving his suit a final inspection in his bathroom mirror."

"I believe you Jack, I really do." Dana walked in from the hall, looking absolutely stunning in a dark red gown that fully complimented her husbands suit.

"Then why do you seem so sullen?" he gripped her arms and looked lovingly into her eyes.

Her expression was poignant, yet somehow apprehensive, "Have you called Tim yet?"

Jack immediately looked away, his face a mixture of shame and defensive anger, "no…"

"Jack!" Dana pressed on, "He has a right to know…"

The eldest Drake sighed in defeat, not really even wanting to play Devil's advocate in this debate because, well, Dana was right, "I'll call Tim the moment we get back from the party, I promise."

His wife smiled, god he loved that smile, "Alright, then let's go show the rest of Gotham's high society why they want Jack Drake back.

. . . . . . . . .

Back in Japan Tommy Chang was by far one of the most respected and one of the most feared leaders of the Triad. Selected to rise into the ranks of the Draco's leaders and was given the task of setting up shop in Gotham as an outlet into America. He was the kind of man who would murder his own grandmother to get a step ahead and not think twice about it. With that said however the man called Oni, Tommy Chang's personal assassin and bodyguard, scared the living shit out of him, though Tommy would never admit it.

So it was now, as he sat in a plush leather chair seated in an empty warehouse, with a man tied to a wooden chair across from him and the fearful warrior standing between them, that Tommy suppressed a shudder.

Oni smiled, the kind of smile that would make Adolph Hitler cringe in a cold sweat, the combat knife spinning slowly through his fingers, tracing patterns lazily into the air. The sweat was pouring down the bound man's brow in bullets, just like Oni liked it.

"Oswald Cobblepot has recently come into possession about an organization known as the Draco." Oni leaned down in front of the man, pressing the blade to the man's throat, where did he get it?"

The man was visibly shaking, "I… I don't know…"

"Don't lie to me," he leaned in, putting pressure into the blade, slitting into the man's throat. Through years of practice, Tommy kept watching, never flinching, never choking, and never as much as a quivering lip. He was stone faced, in complete control of himself throughout the man's mutilation.

At the end of it, they had learned little, not that the lack of valuable information had lessened Oni's enjoyment of it all. "I need to take care of some business," the assassin mentioned, fitting a new pair or wire rim sunglasses on his face.

"Fine," Tommy waved him away, secretly ecstatic to have some time away from this man that he could only describe as mathematically psychotic.

. . . . . . . . .

His feet collided with the skyscraper roof; full out sprinting he reached the other end of the building and leapt off in a blur of red, green and yellow.

Faster…

The wind rushed around him, slapping the exposed skin of his face and arms, pushing his cape up behind him like a flag in a hurricane.

Go faster damn it

He shifted his weight and center of gravity, feeling a rush of blood shoot to his head as he twisted into a headfirst dive to the pavement below. His teeth were clenched so tight that it hurt, his fists balled to the point that he was starting to feel them go numb.

Need the speed, need to let it clear me out…

"All units, this is Oracle," the digitized and masked voice sounded in his ear, "We've got reports of terrorist activity, a small faction has taken the Gotham plaza ball hostage."

"Number or suspects?" Robin heard himself succinctly asking.

"Intel gives us about ten, small group but well armed,"

His grapple launched before Oracle had finished her sentence, and with the skill of a veteran acrobat, Robin the boy Wonder launched himself back into the air. All thoughts of evil long lost relatives, unsolved mysteries and personal demons were gone. He was Robin, the Teen Wonder, and he had a job to do, "I'm in the area, I'll handle it."

"You should wait for back up"

"No time," he interjected, "I said I'll handle it.

. . . . . . . . .

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a good old fashioned robbery," The leader of the thugs shouted, Facing the crowd of Gotham's elite, a veritable mass of sheep dressed in tuxedos and gowns, Easy pickings, he thought.

The ballroom was huge, located at the top of the Gotham Plaza towers; the room was a massive oval that extended into an arched ceiling made almost completely of skylights, with a brilliant chandelier at the apex. The floor was made of black marble with flecks of jade throughout it. In the middle of the dance floor was a beautiful fountain, shooting a steam of water straight up, flanked by four smaller jets of water that danced in arcing patterns, lights within the fountains base shifted color, giving the watery display an almost surreal effect, too bad that it was all going to waste now.

Jack Drake clutched his wife in terror, trying to think of someway to protect them from the criminals! How could this happen, why now? Please god, he begged silently, please help us.

And as if in answer to the elder Drake's prayers, one of the skylight roof's panes of glass shattered, Robin's lithe and agile form seemingly soaring down upon them. His hands shot out, twin throwing birds puncturing the neck of one thug and the chest of another, the paralyzing poison going to swift work as they both hit the floor with a thud

Two… Tim thought to himself.

He landed in a crouch with back to the terrorist who'd been commanding the crowd, letting his legs absorb the impact as his fist snapped back into the man's nose and he to crumpled into unconsciousness.

Three,

A Bola came from his utility belt, and Tim snared another in record time.

Four,

I can hear one trying to make his way through the crowd, sneaking up on me and using them as cover. Idiot, businessmen and philanthropists don't wear Doc Martens…

Another poison tipped throwing bird and that moron was out of the game.

This is too easy… He mused to himself, then one of the crowd caught his eye, and her companion only furthered his distraction.

Dana? Dad?!

"Look out!" Jack Drake screamed and on reflex Tim jumped in time. The last thug had been hiding with a stinger missile launcher! Twisting in the air, Robin dodged the projectile as it tore through his cape and launched a ball of blue gel at the launcher's muzzle. The goop smacked against the weapon and expanded and glued over the muzzle, rendering the powerful machine useless.

"Huh…" The crook only had a moment to examine the gunked up weapon before a green gloved fist floored him.

Six, plus the ones outside make ten. That's all of them.

"Is everyone okay?" Robin's eyes met with his father's, who was still holding Dana close and he gave a reluctant nod. And even though his eyes were masked, Jack knew Tim was thankful for the assist. "Alright then, let's get you people to the ground floor."

"Oh, but the party's just started," A sound like a thundering stampede that Tim realized were the footsteps of a single man, the voice accented and deep, like the roar of the tidal wave and the fist that connected with Tim's jaw, sending blood spewing from his lip and nose and Robin himself rolling end of end felt like it may as well have been Superman hitting him.

"Robin!" Oracle's voice resonated in his ear as he pulled himself to his feet, spitting blood, "Robin what is it!"

Robin snapped out his staff, dropping to a crouch as he felt fear creep into him, a fear that was only held back by a determination that grew within Tim, this monster was not going to hurt these people.

I won't let him hurt my family.

"Bane," he replied, "It's Bane."

. . . . . . . . .

Babs' eyes went wide, the blood drained from her face and she wanted to puke. But she didn't have time.

"Batman, Nightwing, come in!" She was nearly screaming into her headset, "Robin's engaged Bane at Gotham Towers, get over there now!"

The first reply was a very angry and aggravated Nightwing, "Traffic's gridlocked, I can't get high enough to swing," She could hear the grating of metal on asphalt, "I'm going underground, ETA ten minutes." He chocked, knowing it was far too long of a wait for Tim's sake.

"Tim may not have two minutes!" Oracle hissed in spite of herself, "Batman?"

"Five minutes at least," he answered, the anguish clear in his voice.

"no…" Babs' sobbed.

"I'm going" Cassandra walked into the room and for the window, already pulling her mask over her face.

"Cass, you're still hurt."

"And if I don't go, Tim may be dead."

. . . . . . . . . .

He wanted to vomit, he wanted to cry, and he wanted to wake up screaming. The only thing that Jack Drake didn't want was to be standing there holding his wife as he watched his son get pummeled by a monster. This man, who could make a steroid induced Stallone whimper, was sending punch after punch into his son and there was nothing Jack could do. This freak with some vivid green liquid being fed into the base of his skill was killing his son and there was nothing Jack could do. But looking at the fight, watching Tim struggle Jack knew he was wrong, he could do something. He could believe in his boy.

. . . . . . . .

Robin felt another freight train of a fist blow into his mid drift, sending him back a few steps as he swung his staff at Bane's neck only to have it yanked from his grasp in mid air, popping the blisters forming beneath his gloves and jabbed into his Adams apple, making Tim collapse to his knees choking.

I'm getting really tired of people using my stick against me!

He made it to his hands and knees before Bane's monstrosity of a fist closed around his leg. Bane swung Robin like a rag doll, smashing him into the fountain centerpiece. Tim felt his face split open as blood seeped into his eyes. The intangible feeling of gravity lost and then regained as Bane smashed the teen's body down into the fountain, shattering the glass floor and lights below. On instinct alone Tim rolled from the debris before the water electrified.

For what felt like an eternity, Tim just stayed there, lying sweaty, soaked and definitely bloody on the floor. He wanted to sleep, to let everything slip into darkness. He wanted to give up.

No!

The voice screamed inside his mind, forcing Robin to pull himself up, to stand tall in defiance of the terror and almost certain defeat he was facing, "I… I won't let you hurt them!" The words came ragged but strong.

"Foolish boy," Bane chided, stepping closer, "Haven't you realized, I'm not here to hurt them, I'm here to hurt you!"

Bane pounced again, grabbing the haggard Robin and spinning him about, locking his massive arm around Robin's neck and squeezed.

Under the mask Robin's eyes bulged, he felt his air getting cut off, tried in vain to pull the arm away and would have had more luck trying to get Batman to wear a tutu.

Think Robin!

He kicked and twisted, nothing work, the grip only getting tighter.

Don't give up, think!

His eyes darted every which way, over the crowd, trying to come up with a solution, all the while, feeling his vision close in.

Think!

As his vision clouded and narrowed, one person came into Tim's sight with crystal clarity, his father.

Don't think, act!

"Time to die, little Robin."

Tim's sneered, feeling a growl come from his stomach, bringing a new burst of desperate energy, "You first!" His foot kicked up and back over his own head, smashing into Bane's face and shattering the man's nose, causing him to let go of his opponent. Robin wasted no time as a Throwing bird slid into his palm and with lightning reflexes he slit the tube the fed the venom into Bane's head.

Without missing a beat he snatched the tube still attached to Bane's head and with a growl of determination and rage Robin plunged it into the fountain's electrified water. The growl became a howl and then a scream of absolute pain as the electricity coursed through Tim's body, dancing across his teeth and making his blood boil. But like a good soldier he kept the tube submerged, never taking his eyes off Bane.

Come on… fall.

The monster's hands inched closer to Tim, trying to throttle him.

Fall…

Bane's hands were literally surrounding Tim's throat as the boy wonder hunched forward from the staggering pain, "Stop it…" Bane hissed.

No! Fall God damn it!

He could feel Bane's fingers brushing his neck

Fall!

One of the lenses in Bane's mask shattered from the pressure and Robin's glove began to sizzle in the water.

FALL!!!

Then it ended, Bane's hands slipped away, and the monstrosity toppled backward as Robin pulled his hand from the water with an ear splitting scream. Gasping for air, Robin looked down at the fallen super villain.

I… I did it?

Before the thought finished itself, Robin felt the ground rushing up at him.

. . . . . . . . .

Cassandra had made it to the Gotham towers just in time to see Tim plunge his hand in the water. She swung the gap between her perch and the skyscraper and fell in through the same window Tim used, running for the boy as he fell. Cassandra fell to her knees as she reached him and the Boy Wonder fell into her arms. He was hurt and bad, a lot of the blood was dry and his skin smelled somewhat… cooked and his costume was singed and burned. But he was breathing, slow and steady and Cass felt her heart skip a beat with relief. Beneath the white out lenses of his mask, Tim's eyes cracked open, and he looked up into Batgirl's masked eyes, still making eye contact, "Did I get him?"

Despite herself, Cassandra smiled, "Yeah Robin, you got him."

"Good," and he shut his eyes, nestling into the nape of her neck, passing into a comfortable darkness. Cassandra didn't question it, didn't even feel shocked at how right it seemed.

And the entire audience, the room of near hostages with the Boy Wonder's own father among them, watched on in amazed and respectful silence.

The End

. . . . . . . . .

Next Issue: Cassandra gets the jump on Tim at school and kidnaps him for some fun on the town, but things aren't all sun and roses for the Teen Wonder. If you thought Tim had it bad now just wait until you see what happens next. The enigmatic Oni makes his play and it only spells disaster for Tim and his family. Plus, just what is it that Jack and Dana want to talk to Tim about. Find out, next issue!