Disclaimer: the dog is howling at me because of a delusion some people have. She's saying I don't own young justice. DC does. And here I thought she was a dumb dog who licked pants. XP

Okay, now that i've rotted your teeth out with captain marvel, time to throw you for another loop! I'm getting close to finishing this story on my own (note, still ahead in typing here) but the important thing is that I'll have to go back to typing up 'Where's Robin?' soon. Been focusing on this one a lot. Can you tell? =D Well, enjoy!

Little FYI, I clean for a living. I know exactly what Robin's going through in the first part of the story.

Without Me

Ch. 24 – Fear of the Bat

Scrubbing off all the paint he and Captain Marvel wasted wouldn't have been so bad if he had a good cleaner, a paint scraper, and a few hundred rags. It just took forever because Marvel had to go home early and the sugar rush wore off. Really, when was Robin ever going to learn? Sugar buzzes resulted in really bad headaches. It used to be stomachaches, but as he got older, it was always killer headaches.

Course Flash didn't make him take care of the paint first. The first thing he had Robin do was remove the games he added to the League's computer, then clean up the main hall. That took half an hour thankfully. Marvel took care of most of the cleaning while he fixed the computer glitches he made. Getting rid of the painting evidence from that room was to buy them time should anyone else pop up.

Once the two had started working on the common area, Flash left to take care of a case in Central. Robin was so preoccupied by everything else around him at that moment, he forgot to ask Flash how things were going. It was about another hour after the speedster left that he remembered. "AH MAN! I forgot to ask him about Wally!"

"That's what you get for eating too many sweets," Hal jibbed from the couch. He stuck around to make sure they cleaned the place. Marvel was in charge of the ones he put on the ceiling while Robin started on the symbols around the kitchen. They both occasionally glared at the lazy lantern lounging on the couch as they worked. He was blocking their exits with his ring. There was no escape this time.

"We get it, we get it," Marvel muttered. When he finally had the ceiling scrubbed free, GL let him rush home for a prearranged event.

Then the lantern looked over to Robin, still scrubbing a wall free from Superman's shield (though it was red painted on black for his own amusement). "I've got monitor duty until Supes comes in. Finish up in here and make it look good, or I'll tell Batman and let him pick your punishment."

"Isn't this punishment enough?" The boy wonder whined. His hands had paint in every crevice available, and they were starting to wrinkle from going in and out of the bucket so much. He really should have been wearing gloves.

"Nope!" the pilot grinned. "This is just the natural consequences of your actions. I'm thinking we should take away some of your privileges."

Robin groaned. "What privileges? Not like I can do much around here anyway."

"Oh? How about access to the gym?"

The boy froze for a moment, then looked over his shoulder at the man exasperated. "You have got to be kidding."

Hal shook his head, still smirking. "Nope. See that you get everything done here. Get something healthy in your stomach, then I want you to get to bed. No more late nights for you bird boy."

Robin rolled his eyes and went back to his work. "Roger that, flashlight."

He ran a hand roughly through the kid's hair before leaving him to work. Robin shook his head with a slight smirk. At least he didn't call him boy blunder. After getting caught so easily by Barry, that should have been his name.

Course then again, both Alfred and Bruce repeatedly told him to stop eating so much sugar. It still didn't take much to set him on a sugar high, but Marvel found so many good things! He hadn't even tried half those goodies before. No one would let him. When else was he going to get this chance?

And it was the League's fault for putting paint in the kitchen cupboards. They found them when they were looking for trash bags earlier. Who even put them there? And where were the paintbrushes?

It was nearing eight when he finally set the scrub brush down, rubbing his shoulders in relief. Everything was cleaned off and looking like new. Even Alfred would be impressed with the end results. "Finally."

Robin's stomach grumbled loudly, making him cringe. Sugar in candy and the like tended to make people hungrier later. He hadn't eaten a thing since he started playing Guitar Hero around two. Normally it didn't bother him, but this time hunger hit him hard.

"Alfred wins again." Robin picked up his bucket and dumped its contents into the sink before leaving it upturned in it to dry for a bit. He immediately turned to the fridge and fished out what he could to make a larger sandwich than usual, hoping it'd balance out what was left of the sugar in his system so his nightmare that night didn't turn into one of his Scarecrow hallucinations. Just as he was taking a bite into his dinner, he heard the zeta-tube activate. He let out a slow breath, glad now they had the entryway cleared up first.

Curiosity got the better of him, so the boy wonder slipped out of the kitchen and made his way towards the main hall to see who arrived. His eyes widened a fraction before he pulled back out of sight and bolted back to the common area. Batman was there. Batman was there! He hadn't seen him since Saturday night and now there he was talking to Hal. Was he there because he learned a way to get Robin home? Or was he there because Hal called him and told him about the paint job?

A small swarm of panic filled him as he stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and started searching the whole room for any traces of the mess he made that day. The last thing Robin needed was Batman to be mad at him. Quickly he found a towel and rubbed down the bucket he was using earlier before tucking it and the other cleaning materials away under the kitchen sink. He grabbed a wet rag and wiped down every countertop and surface he could find for good measure before going to the entertainment center and looking it over for any trace amounts of paint. Instead he found dust and proceeded to dust the entire room. He raced around the place, straightening stacks and fluffing pillows as quickly as he could. He threw away a few more pieces of trash he managed to find before taking another look around the room and not finding a single thing wrong with it.

But knowing Batman he'd be able to find something wrong.

Robin bit his lip and silently started to pray the man wasn't going to find one drop of paint or dirt to warrant making him clean the whole cave top to bottom. Bruce would have him do things like that as punishments for his pranks or antics, and frankly it didn't help the kid like cleaning even a little. Sure he appreciated Alfred more and more each time, but the guy was a pro at cleaning. He did it in his sleep!

And Bruce had forty-seven cars! Counting the Batmobiles! He counted once. He cleaned and waxed them all at least three times. Then there were the motorcycles.

The boy wonder took in a deep breath and headed out towards the main hall. No point in delaying the inevitable after all. Either he was going to pass the cleaning inspection or he was going to fail. One way or another, thinking it over and over again until it became too much wasn't a good idea.

As he came closer to the main hall, he heard shouting and some shuffling around. His curiosity perked, Robin hurried along to the source and stopped in the doorway to see what was happening. He blinked in surprise. Batman and Hal Jordon were in the midst of a fist fight. For some reason the pilot wasn't in uniform, puzzling the teen. 'Okay, so he's not here because of my latest prank.'

"Are you guys—" Robin started but his question was answered as Hal managed to break away from Batman for a moment to tap his communicator.

"GL to Superman! Bat's gone crazy! Backup NOW!" The test pilot dove to the side, barely dodging another tackle from the dark knight. Batman threw a kick wildly into Hal's stomach, throwing the man about two feet back. Not letting the man recover, the Bat charged forward, howling almost rabidly as he attacked once more.

For a brief moment Robin watched horrified. He'd seen Batman like that once before, and knew how the man struggled to control himself when he became like that. Bruce barely managed to take his hands off Dick's throat before he choked him to death. There was only one reason for it.

Determination swelled in him as Robin charged forward at his mentor's back, leaping on top of the man and reaching around his neck to haul him into a headlock. "Batman knock it off! He's not your enemy! He's—"

The Bat's stronger elbow threw itself into Robin's side, throwing the kid off of him and bruising a few ribs.

"Robin!" Hal called out, but was quickly punched in the jaw, making talking difficult as he spun to the ground.

The boy easily let go of the man and rolled with the blow, deliberately falling to the ground to soften the impact out of reflex. He shook his head to clear it, his sunglasses having fallen off and shattering from the blow, before getting back up for another charge. Hal was decent fighter against Robin in a sparing match, but the Hal from back home wasn't yet as good a hand to hand fighter as Bruce. His only chance at surviving an enraged, almost rabid Batman was if Dick found a way to get the guy off of him.

Quickly he dashed around to Batman's left side and threw himself around the man's waist. The dark knight yowled, thrusting his elbow into the boy's back to get him off. Dick took the blow, rolling away when he hit the ground, but it wasn't the only thing he took. Hal tried to block the next set of blows, twisting the man above him's fists whenever he could, but found it difficult. Batman trained his entire life to do exactly this after all.

Dick saw the frustration in the pilot's eyes, and knew if he didn't work fast, it'd become horror. He twisted the elongated capsule he swiped from the man's belt, allowing an inch long needle to appear from one end and a button from the other. Before Batman could crack Hal's head wide open, Dick pounced onto his back again and jammed the needle into the neck of his cowl, injecting its contents into the man's body.

Batman roared, letting go of Jordon and using both hands to reach behind him to grab the boy on his back. With all his strength, he threw the kid over his head to the far side of the room. Dick easily twisted the throw into a flip, landing neatly and giving the Bat a hard determined look. The fight was over. All that was left was the finale.

The dark knight ripped the injector out of his neck and looked at it in an animal like way before glaring back at the kid, trying to make some kind of growling noise. But almost exactly like an animal, he started to sway as he tried to get up and charge at Dick. The man made it past Hal's nearly beaten form before passing out from the drug. The boy let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Batman was down and out.

"Hal!" Dick ran to the pilot's side, checking him over. "You conscious?"

"Somehow," Hal admitted after a moment. His jaw was already swelling and his face was going to be covered in bruises. Neither of them would be surprised if he'd need to go to a dentist after this either. Looking over the man, Dick saw yellow paint covering Hal's ring and right hand in general. More than likely the man had a few cracked ribs and it looked like his right arm was dislocated as well. There were marks on his throat too. The only noticeable bleeding Dick could find was from the man's nose and mouth, both easily taken care of.

"Geh, looks nasty," the boy admitted as he helped Hal raise his good arm to pinch his nose, "but you'll live. Just don't expect any new dates for a few weeks."

"A regular comedian aren't ya?" He groaned, trying to get up but failed miserably, especially since Dick was pressing him back down.

"Stay down! We don't know if you've got a concussion or not." The boy's determined glare reminded the lantern the kid was experienced in surviving these kinds of fights, especially with the Bat. Once he remained settled, Dick started scrubbing off the yellow paint on his ring. "Paint pellets…"

"What did you do to him?" Hal turned his head slightly to look over to Batman, unable to believe the kid took the guy down like that.

"Antitoxin sedative. One of Bruce's concoctions." He continued to doggedly scrub off the paint, wiping off chips with his sleeve. "We have one on each of our belts and gave one to Gordon back home. It's in case something Joker or Scarecrow or even Poison Ivy makes takes over our reason. Like right now."

Dick could see it clicking in Hal's head as he finished cleaning the ring off. "You mean, you've seen this—"

Recognized – Superman 01

The man of steel flew straight through the light to their side in a panic. "What happened? Where's Batman? What did he—"

Dick pointed to the black jumble on the floor. "He's over there, sleeping like a baby."

Superman jerked his gaze over to Batman's passed out form, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wha—"

"Apparently whoever he fought this week's concoction hadn't left his system yet," the boy concluded. "I had to put him down."

The man jerked his gaze back to Dick's face, shocked beyond words. "You…"

"If you don't mind," Hal interrupted, "I'm the victim here. Help me get to the med wing Big Blue."

"Oh, right." Superman slipped his arm under the pilot's back and helped him slowly to his feet, looking him over at the same time. Dick knew it was more than just a casual probe too. Clark was always using his xray vision to make sure Bruce wasn't fibbing about his physical condition. "Good thing you stayed down. You nearly punctured a lung."

"I was more worried about brain injury," Dick muttered lowly, taking to his feet as well. He looked over to Batman on the floor, watching his still form while remembering his enraged state a few minutes ago. He felt the alien's scan more than saw it, taking a deep breath to avoid objecting. "I didn't get hurt that badly."

"Say that to your ribs!" The man of steel objected. "And that bruise on your shoulder's only getting worse!"

"I'll join you in medical when you come back for Batman," the boy promised, his eyes not leaving his mentor's double. "Someone should be here in case he wakes."

Hal jerked his head around in alarm. "I thought you said it was a sedative!"

"My Batman's been working on becoming immune to sedatives," Dick explained. "I don't know how far along this one is. Go, I know what I'm doing."

To end the argument, he went back to Batman's side and knelt beside him, slipping off the man's belt and searching his gloves before the two men started making their way to medical. Once they were out of earshot, Dick glanced once to where they exited, then back to Batman. A touch of sadness filled his eyes as he watched the man slumber.

"What did you get yourself into this time?" he whispered. Homesickness and worry then returned to his face. "And what's happening to my Batman without me there?"

A/N: heh, promised you a new twist didn't I? Didn't think it'd be a good idea to just make it easy on them. First robin think's he's in trouble because of the paint job and does a rushed cleaning (who hasn't done that?) then realizes the two aren't sparing and takes down batman. There's a hundred very good reasons for there to be a robin at his side, one of them being to keep him from going rabid. This is one time everyone sees what a robin's useful for.

Yeah I don't know if Bats has that kind of concoction, but here he does! he really should have one too, just in case. and it would be one thing on both their belts they'd know about. Give one to Gordon too, just in case. Me paranoid. That's why Bats is so easy to write.