I don't own DC, otherwise there would be no five year gap.

Chapter 8—

So much for instincts, Robin thought. Their first thought was to retrace the steps and find out who they were up against; but as the boy wonder opened his eyes groggily in time to see the door to the cage slam shut just a metre from him, he knew something had gone slightly wrong. Before straining to remember what had happened, Batman's training first compelled him to check for his belt, missing, his gloves, missing, even his cape had been taken. The reassuring weight of the domino mask calmed his rising panic. Through the bars of the cage he saw the pile of his stuff on a short table to the right of him, just out of reach.

He looked around, finally, and saw a normal living room; soft cream carpet, similar walls, a sofa against one wall and a TV opposite. He peered at the machine as it came into focus for his slowly adjusting eyes—he sagged, not interested in a gardening program. He was in some indistinguishable suburban home that was in good keeping, he had to admit. A waft of air blew in form what must have been a kitchen because it was leaded with the scent of cookies. He was instantly reminded of M'gann and the Boy Wonder face-palmed. What had he gotten himself into?

"Murrell?" Angel's slurred voice dragged his attention from the room to the corner of the cage.

Seemingly, Sloane had gauged it safe to stick him with company. He felt a pang of guilt as he sister asked for her brother. Murrell was her brother on her mother's side, the only sane person in the house that Angie could talk to, as Angel or as Estella. Robin reminded himself to ask Murrell, his step-brother in a way, of his vigilante name, surely he had one; they were all heroes. She was Angel, her mother was Feathers, Murrell was something and her three other brothers probably had there own names too, even if Chase was only nine, after all Robin had started at that age.

Robin moved to sit beside his sister as she slowly came to. Memories surfaced, making Robin wince. They were wandering, no place to go, just bored. Then they were fighting, Sloane was there. Then they were falling from the short drop off the one-story roof. Clearly it had been enough to knock them out, as it was he had a headache.

"It's me." He murmured softly.

The fog lifted from her brain and Angie just smiled, leaning back against the cage bars and the wall behind. She pulled her knees up to get comfortable and winked at Robin. The guilt washed away and left a sense of relief that he wasn't alone. Of course Angie knew how he felt about dragging her into this, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She looked over where they were with a look of confusion. Admittedly, Robin had been expecting a warehouse, as cliché as it was, one that smelled like rot and blood dripped from dark crevices. But no, they were in Granny's front room. There were no windows but two ordinary doors opposite one another, both locked no doubt.

"Comfortable. I smell biscuits."

"You mean cookies." Robin teased her with a smile, remembering how much she hated when he pointed out her British accent hen she enunciated, mistook a couch for a sofa and cookies for biscuits. "Yeah, odd place."

"I like it." Sloane pushed through the door, Robin glanced past him to see Harley smiling at him as she leant against a kitchen counter. "It is home, what do you think?"

Angel padded her hands on the soft carpet beneath us like a cat would settling down, "You might as well pin us down with pillows and force us to nap."

He crouched before her, his face pressing against the bars, "Wait 'till I show you the cellar."

Robin cringed at remembering the dingy walls, a cold stone. It was a place of utter darkness except the staircase winding up to a place Robin was never conscious to see. One table took up place at the end of the room, on it lay several instruments that brought the boy pain beyond belief. He had thought it had been a warehouse then, it hadn't crossed his mind that a cosy home sat above the origin of his nightmare. Sloane stood, crossed the room to stare at the TV pointedly for a second and faced us.

Now he was in full light, all of his sickening features shone for Angel to see for the first time, but Robin just already had that God awful face seared into his brain by his own screams. His hair was shaved to within a millimetre of his head and a stripe of red started from somewhere on his back and ran up over his head to stop on his nose. His eyes, also red, glowed fiercely, like a hunter eying its prey. He smiled widely, with right angle teeth as white as a fresh sheet of plain A4 and joined Harley in the kitchen to ask of the Joker and when he would be back.

"Cellar, he mean's a basement, right?"

"Yep, we're done for." Robin closed his eyes.

"Is it just him, the Joker and Harley?"

"Yeah, he has an army of robots though, they look like armoured racoons." He whispered.

"Do they follow the same algorithm and AI?"

"They use this one server, I came close to hacking one before but I got stopped. They have the strength of Superboy, Angie, and the database of Red Tornado. They can intercept pretty much any move we try. Trust me."

"Who're Superboy and Red so and so?"

"Superboy and Red Tornado, I'll introduce them to you sometime." Robin noticed Harley peeking from through the crack in the door. He carried on talking in bored tone as if he hadn't noticed, "KF will beg for you to join the team, if he hasn't reached his limit already."

"They're talking 'bout random stuff." Concluded the Joker's batty assistant and she moved away after catching only the tail end of their innocent conversation.

"Hey," Angel whispered, "do you think you can reach your gloves, I see artificial auras in here."

"You can pick up machines?"

"No, but they do leave a footprint, like a space where something should be whether it's someone or nothing. It's unidentifiable but the void is too big for it to be a mobile phone someone's carried in."

"In America, they're called cell phones."

She sighed exasperatedly and Robin smiled at her reaction but otherwise moved to reach though the bars. His arms were just too short, Angel could do it—she maybe younger than he was but she was a swimmer with longer arms. Sloane barged through into the room and buried a knife into his side. He recoiled in pain but then froze all to aware that if he moved too much more damage could be done. No vital organs had been hit but the Boy Wonder had to bite his lip to stop crying out. The captor ripped the knife away, spat at the boy and returned to Harley.

"Oh Robin, I'm sorry. That's my fault."

"Can you fix it?" He asked, finding his voice to be stronger than he had expected. Stay strong, he told himself.

She placed her hand on the arm he cradled he side with and Robin relaxed as the pain dissolved. Gingerly she held the wound, closed her eyes and murmured meditation chants under her breath as she healed her brother. It would be quicker to heal herself but as it was Robin would be fine in no time. With heavy lids, Robin watched the clock as ten minutes passed. Angel was done and wiping his blood off her hands. After healing so fast, his body had used up so much energy in the healing process, so he curled up and fell asleep.

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Suggestions are welcome, I'm making each chapter up as I go along so feel free to drop an idea by me.